Our mood was amiable as we pushed into the eastern corridors, and we continued our pointless chatter. We were too cocksure of ourselves after all the victories we have won before, and we let our guard down. That almost cost one of my arms.

We were climbing a steep rock separating two chambers when part of the stone came alive and snapped at my hand! I desperately flailed, tried to find a new crevice to hold on, but the creature was not content to leave me to my own devices, and now it went straight for my face. I let go, kicked myself away from the rock, then unceremoniously slammed into the ground. By Jove, it hurts!

“What the hell is that?!” I shouted.

Beldrak decided too that not getting his limbs bitten off was the better part of valour and jumped down. Then he answered.

“That, lad, is a grick. And where there is one, there is usually another.”

“Found it!” screamed Jim as a great grey beak tore into his thigh. Then he kicked, fell, and now we all three were on the ground, looking up at the two bizarre stone-imitating monsters as they slithered towards us.

”Damn, they are ugly,” muttered the wizard as he prepared a mote of fire. Nobody argued with him. Jim cursed, and pressed his palm onto the wound, stopping the bleeding and fusing the flesh back together. I took aim and hurled my first javelin.

The gricks were durable beasts, but their main advantage laid in their superb mimicry. With their surprise gone they had to get into melee with us, and if Jim and I excelled at something, it was hacking monsters into pieces in close combat. While the tiefling kept the one on the right at bay, I chose the one on the left. The beast writhed, tried to squirm past my shield, but it ran into Shatterspike every time. I wore down the critter’s patience, and soon enough, it thrust too far, too slow. My blade came down. The grick let out a high-pitched scream as my steel split its back open. It was not dead yet, but it did not attack anymore. I finished it off with a savage thrust. The elongate body writhed once more, this time in agony then did not move again.

Jim and Beldrak meanwhile killed the other grick, and now Beldrak was in the process of opening up the beast’s bowels with a knife.

“What are you doing?” I inquired.

“Hm? Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know. These critters have gizzards like birds, and they swallow all kind of stones. As there are abandoned mineshafts here, there is a fair chance the wee critter ate something precious at some point. Some gemstones are very hard, and thus make excellent filler stones for gizzards. Also, after you are done cutting your beast open, be so kind and hack off the beaks. They are worth fifty gold apiece.”

The rest of the morning went by without us springing another ambush or trap. We systematically mapped out the corridors, and a little after midday, there were only two avenues of investigation left. On the utmost eastern fringe of the maze, there was a strong door built from stone, reinforced with steel, that we couldn’t get open. I even tried to batter it down with Shatterspike, but the blade that usually cut through stone as it was wood, bounced off this gate harmlessly. So, this way was barred for the time being.

The other way led downwards. It was a narrow spiral staircase where we could go only in a single file, and Jim even had to lower his head a little. Not a very encouraging place to be, I thought. My candle enlightened mucky stairs, crummy walls, and suddenly a waterdrop glinted too. The ceiling wept cold water, and the sound of dripping was incessant.

Then we started to hear another sound, a loud, deep rumble. At the base of the staircase, in a giant hall, there was a waterfall. All the little creeks of the upper levels were gathered into a large, fast-flowing stream, and hurtled into the deep. The river first rested here in a large, circular pool. Then, after it gathered some strength, it started running faster and faster. The narrow bed of the new-born stream seemed to seethe with anger and impatience, a layer of white foam covering it at all times, and the water furiously gushing onwards.

We rested here, marvelling at the beauty of the stones, the cavern and the waterfall, and ate our lunch. Beldrak even went inside the lake: the water was calm and shallow at the bank. He swam a few strokes, dived, then came up shrieking with excitement.

“There is something under the waterfall!”

Despite the many fish we could observe, the water was very clear, so it is no wonder that Beldrak could see even the bed of the lake. His dwarven eyes were attuned to darkness after all.

“I am not strong enough to swim all the way to the waterfall,” he mused calmer now. “But maybe…”

Before any of us could answer him, the wizard took a deep breath and was gone once again. We saw him swim nearer to the centre of the lake with a few powerful strokes, then staying at one place, his legs kicking tirelessly, and his hands outstretched towards some unseen object. Then he stopped struggling against the current and let himself drift back to the bank. There was a war hammer in his hand, bearing the unmistakable sign of its maker. The wizard’s unseen hands delivered to us a weapon of Durgeddin.

This was the second relic from the great dwarven smith, as Jim procured a sword from one of the chambers that were covered with poisonous mushrooms.

“What do you reckon these two are worth?” I asked.

“To baron Alton? Six hundred gold apiece, maybe even more. Both are decent work, but neither of them is a real masterpiece. If we find one of those, I reckon we could get thousands just for that.”

“While you are resting, I will go and check out those rooms,” said Jim, and gestured towards the entrances that were cut into the eastern wall of the cavern. “Those seem to be simple enough storages.”

“Splitting up, a splendid idea,” nodded Beldrak sagely. “Getting us all killed through recklessness is what Arnold is supposed to do. Don’t steal the poor man’s thunder!” 

Jim thus pacified, we waited patiently for Beldrak to recover his strength. Then, instead of going into the storage rooms, that Jim wanted to check, the wizard led us along the fast-flowing river.

“I don’t like those rooms,” he said. “The more I think of them, the less I like them. One can see the crates inside. Why weren’t they carried away yet? I bet those entrances are trapped. We should try to find another way to get into them.”

Thus, we went around the storages in a wide arc. The river wasn’t always visible, sometimes it wormed itself into the rock, sometimes it appeared again. We found some other rooms. One that laid deeper than the corridor was flooded with six feet high water and held the skeletons of dwarves chained to the walls. A place of a cruel, merciless execution. There were small columns erected before the dead, just outside their arms reach, and two of the columns still sported potions. It only took Beldrak a few minutes to identify them – they were potions that allowed people to breathe underwater for an hour. No doubt, they were placed before the prisoners to give them false hope and entice them to struggle in the hope of prolonging their own torture.

Chained to the walls, water rushing in, the level of it rising every minute… A chill ran along my spine as I imagined what the poor devils must have lived through. The fate of those who have reached their own potions must have been even crueller than of those who failed. They stood in the dark, the water already closed above their heads, and they hoped against hope that someone will save them before their hour is up.

We pocketed the potions, and Beldrak said that we will have to come back to bury these skeletons. We agreed.

The corridor became now a cavern that was untouched from dwarven hands – we were walking on a way now that nature itself cut into the rock. The river was on our left, roaring louder than ever, straining against its narrow bed. There was another bank over the churning water, giant boulders sitting on a plateau of yellow and brown stone, sharp, and elongated rocks hanging from the ceiling.

I did not like the sight.

“There is something really threatening about those,” I gestured. “That big one hanging in the middle is the worst. Can gricks grow so large?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Beldrak absentmindedly. “Ah, here we are!” We found a great door of stone and steel sunk into the wall. “It will take a while to open, but I think I know the mechanism.”

“Maybe I can help,” Jim stood at his side.

While they were occupied by picking the lock, I stood to watch. To be fair, I was a rather useless guard in the dark cavern. The trembling light of my magical candle only let me see so far. How did I even spot those Troglodytes back then before Jim and… What was that?! A tentacle appeared at the edge of the light, then disappeared again before I could shout. Am I imagining things? Who cares, you idiot! If I am wrong, they will just have one more thing to laugh about. I cleared my throat.

“Jim, Beldrak, do you see anything particular with tentacles in that direction?”

There was a click, the door opened, and Beldrak turned towards me.

“What were you… Damn it’s a roper!”

The monster slowly crept out of the darkness, so I could be doubly sure now that I didn’t imagine things. It was the giant hanging rock, that was so suspicious on the other side of the river. This close I didn’t even understand how I ever mistook it for a rock. The thing had eyes, a big mouth twisted into a toothy grin, and at least two dozen long, agile tentacles that were pulling and pushing the monster.

Suddenly four of the roper’s limbs rushed at us. I beat one away with my shield, stepped on the second hard, but the third coiled around me, while the fourth tried to wrestle Jim.

As often before, Beldrak’s steel nerves proved to be our salvation. The wizard instinctively knew what to do. Red flames lashed out of the wizard’s extended arms and burned through the tentacles. I was free again as the feeler’s loosened around me, then harmlessly fell on the ground. With an inarticulate battle-cry, I ran at the monster and slashed at its body with Shatterspike. The blade barely scratched the critter, its hide was as hard as the rock it mimicked.

Suddenly flames flared up from behind me, barely missing my head. I instinctively ducked and glanced back. Beldrak burned away four more tentacles that were trying to sneak up on me, while Jim was busy casting one of his lesser spells, maybe the bonfire, or some other one. I had no time to determine which, because the monster leaned over me, and tried to gobble me up with its razor-sharp teeth. I threw myself to the right, covering myself with my shield the best I could. The roper’s body was much slower than its feelers, so it did not catch me, but it still bit off a good chunk from my shield. The creature’s fangs ground down the hard oak, and even the steel brim in a moment. It would go through my armour just as well, I thought.

I was on my feet again, screaming and slashing, but Shatterspike, the blade that usually cut through even stone, harmlessly bounced off the monster’s skin. Then the roper started to turn towards me again, tentacles coiling angrily on the ground, on the ceiling, in the air.

Beldrak let out a shrill cry, and a flaming sphere, fiercer than any I have seen him summon before, slammed into the creature. The tentacles wriggled, and even the body spasmed in agony.

That was the moment when I had to decide. I could have pressed hard, attacking the monster again and again, until I found its weak points and killed it. Beldrak could keep the tentacles away as long as he had magic left, and Jim could use his lesser spells.

The other option was a retreat. I am not a particularly cautious or considerate man once it already came to melee, but a monster that could chew iron-reinforced hard oak as it was soft bread, gave even me a pause. Or better said, I was scared witless. So, using the quiet moment the wizard gave me with his blazing ball, I ran.

Beldrak and Jim seemed to have concluded even before me that not getting horribly mauled to death is the better part of valour because they already pulled back into the corridor behind the great stone door which they opened with such an opportune timing.

“Please tell me that ropers are solitary creatures,” I wheezed to Beldrak as the door closed with a loud bang behind me.

“I wish I could,” he answered ruefully. “But I know virtually nothing of the wee critter besides its name. Also, the only piece of advice I have ever received concerning ropers is ‘be elsewhere where they are’. It pains me to say, but even my usually boundless knowledge of Tegilpén’s fauna has its limitations.”

“Unlike your modesty, but not unlike our hideout, sadly,” I remarked after looking around. The corridor ended in a dead-end after mere twenty paces, but there were four doors as well, and Jim was checking them one by one. “Jim, cheer me up, and tell me you found a way out.”

“As if,” the tiefling sighed. “All the blasted doors lead to blasted dead-ends. The only way out is there,” he gestured towards the exit whence we came. With impeccable timing, the roper chose this moment to slam into the door and made us all jump back in fright.

“Maybe it will go away if we wait enough?” I asked hopefully from no one in particular.

“A plan, as good as any,” shrugged Beldrak.

“As long as the door holds out,” muttered Jim.

We searched the corridor and the cells and tried not to take notice of the violent siege that the roper conducted with increasing vigour against the great stone door separating us from each other.

“A long-dead dwarven warrior, eight pieces of platinum and a key,” summarised Beldrak our results. “You want to know what I think?”

“The poor bastard fled here when the fortress fell, shut himself into these rooms, and then died from thirst or succumbed to wounds,” I answered. “In my experience, sieges are a grim business even when you are on the winning side. Being on the losing side is something I don’t even like to think about.”

“And the roper was already here by that time,” said Jim. “The orks would have broken down the door otherwise.”

That was certainly not a cheerful thought.

“You think the monster won’t just go away.”

“Not likely, no.”

So be it.

“Stand in the back, and prepare your lesser spells,” I sighed. As they obeyed, I took a deep breath, and suddenly opened the door. Without wasting a moment, tentacles surged in, two going for me, and other two speeding towards my comrades. Beldrak hurled a mote of fire towards the monster, that towered a mere few paces from the door, while Jim summoned a purplish, almost transparent skeletal hand that tore into the creature. It was quite a view, but nothing else, the roper didn’t even flinch.

I leapt, and both feelers aiming to capture me coiled around the place where I just was a moment ago. Using the opportunity, I violently shoved the door close. The roper squealed, as its tentacles were caught between the frame and the door, but the feelers were not entirely severed, as I hoped they would be. Beldrak cast flames, and burnt three tentacles crisp, while the fourth was wrestled into submission by Jim.

“Quick,” the tiefling panted. “Bind it!”

It was a good idea. One of the cellars had steel rings affixed onto the wall, and we bound the thrashing tentacle to it. After the feeler wasn’t able to thrash around anymore, I went back to the door.

“This might even work,” I muttered.

When I opened the door, the roper went straight for me. Four again? I remarked myself unnecessarily. Maybe it cannot control more at the same time? Or it just likes to do things this way? I should ask.

The monster, contrary to me, did not waste its time on incoherent inner rambling. All four feelers coiled around me and started to drag me towards the door. I slashed and hacked, severing two limbs, but I would have perished if not for Jim, who used his magic to shut the door again. Meanwhile Beldrak, forgoing his magic this time, wrestled and bound one of the half-severed tentacles, so I could deal with the last one.

“We have won,” announced Jim. “A few more rounds like this, and we can kill it.”

“Our common sense, adaptability and methodical approach won,” I corrected him pompously. “Human resourcefulness always triumphs over dumb animals.”

“I am quite pleased with myself too,” agreed Beldrak. “However…”

He stopped, and we looked as the bound tentacles stopped struggling against the ropes, sagged, and then withered away.

“…have you ever heard the saying about drinking away the price of the bear’s pelt before you caught it?” the dwarf finished sourly.

“We say ‘Don’t count your chicken before they are hatched!’” sighed Jim. “But I catch your drift.”

I opened the door again. The roper was nowhere to be seen.