Having hidden the bodies of their fallen adversaries, and knowing that a search party is prowling the area, the band of adventurers takes the opportunity to enter the mine – hopefully without being detected. They heave open one of the massive doors and peer inside. They see a ten-foot wide, round tunnel curving downward and to the right. The stone walls are striated by grey, red, pink, and beige layers of stone. A fine dust of salt lingers in the air. Luminescent crystals set in sconces at intervals along the length of the tunnel allow even a human the ability to see adequately, if somewhat dimly. They find a metal bar leaning inside the doorway and they use it to secure the door shut, hoping that this will hinder any pursuit by a returning search party.

They head down the mine shaft which curves in a wide, downward spiraling loop. Having made one full revolution, they come upon an intersection. Scouting ahead, Mishok spots a pair of hobgoblin guards within that intersection. They spot him as well, and they quickly duck out of sight, around their opposite corners. Mishok notices that they are both grasping ropes that lead to a set of pulleys mounted on the wall. Curious, he approaches them, attempting to present himself as if he belongs there. As soon as he enters the intersection, the hobgoblins yank the ropes, dumping, with a crash, a tremendous pile of rocks and rubble. Mishok, luckily leaps aside from the worst of it, and only takes a few glancing blows. He is knocked forward and to the right. The intersection behind him is effectively filled by the rock fall, separating him from the rest of the team, and leaving him face to face with one of the guards. The other guard seems to have been left on the far side of the rockfall.

Cycek sends Fuzzidong to find a way up and over the debris. The helpful weasel scrambles up the fallen rocks, finds some openings up near the ceiling, and passes through to the tunnel beyond. A narrow route thus identified, the rest of the party slowly and carefully clambers over the treacherous, loose rocks, and joins Mishok, who has just slain the hobgoblin guard in hand-to-hand combat.

Mishok leads the way, putting the rock-fall behind them, and explores the mine shaft. It curves in a large descending loop, with a few branching passageways to either side. They find a larger chamber where several passageways intersect in a sort of staging area. Several mine carts sit at the ready, and rocky debris is piled along the perimeter. They select a passage that seems more freshly excavated. It too curves away and downward. As Mishok explains it, the curving aspect of the tunnels is due to the natural structures of the salt veins, but the result is very limited sight lines. Thus, it is not long before they have rounded the bend and can no longer see the tunnel entrance behind them. To their consternation, they soon hear harsh voices and the booming tread of heavy footsteps behind them.

They turn to see a hulking, stonelike behemoth bearing down on them. Nearly nine feet tall and built with the solid, bulky stature of an ogre, this imposing figure seems to be carved out of stony slabs of salt. It has powerful legs like pillars, and massive arms like battering rams. It is being commanded by a pair of hobgoblins who are dwarfed by it. They follow behind, barking orders in goblin-speak.

The monster quickly sets upon Sartan, slamming him with fists resembling boulders. He fights back, hacking at it with an axe. He learns the hard way that attacking at close-range is hazardous. He is blinded by a stinging spray of salty grit. 

Sartan’s colleagues, farther down the tunnel, fire arrows. Several of them connect, leaving divots in the monster’s bulky crystalline torso, and flinging out more shards of salt. The hobgoblins return fire, but fail to connect with any targets. Davros and other members of the party move farther down the tunnel, keeping their distance from the deadly fists of stone, while focusing ranged attacks on the two hobgoblins. It is not long before the two hobgoblins are brought down. Mishok slips past the creature, and out into the main passageway to watch for additional enemies. He sees none, but he does take note of a large metal door farther down the main passageway.

Meanwhile, Sartan has begun shouting commands to the salt monster in goblin-speak. The dim-witted creature accepts these commands, and it begins running down the tunnel at Sartan’s behest. In doing so, it slams into Cycek at just about the moment that a new threat emerges from the far end of the tunnel.

A horrid nightmare of a creature shambles into sight. It has leathery red-brown skin, stretched over what appears to be two human forms merged together in an obscene assemblage of parts. Two distorted semi-human faces stare balefully from a pair of heads fused side-by-side into one lumpy visage of malice. It lurches forward on four disjointed legs, and four arms reach out aggressively for something to destroy.

Sartan orders the salt golem to attack. It barrels toward the leather creature and pummels it with two heavy fists. The leathery creature is rocked on its heels, and its already-distorted frame is knocked all the more askew. But it keeps coming.

Krago, intent upon stopping the original monster, strikes the beast in the back with his war hammer. The ill-conceived attack does little to slow the creature, but it blinds him with a face full of salt shards. He stands still, shaking the stinging salt out of his eyes. Cycek uses this opportunity to leapfrog over him. He launches himself up and over Krago and over the head of the salt monster. He lands atop the head of the leathery monstrosity. It is greasy, but smells delicious. He stabs it in the head with his dagger and tumbles off its back, falling to the floor at the feet of an oncoming hobgoblin. He launches himself upward, burying his blade in the hobgoblin’s vulnerable nether region. Blood gushes forth, and the hobgoblin shrieks as it dies in agony.

The leathery creature shoves past its salty assailant and goes for the nearest party members. It comes upon the still-blinded Krago. It strikes him two terrible blows, and Krago is driven to the ground. He lies bleeding on the floor of the tunnel while the melee commences around him.

Sartan orders the salt golem to “Attack big man!” At that moment, Sartan himself is the nearest creature meeting that description. It turns to him and strikes him a dreadful blow. Cycek, covered with hobgoblin perineum blood, and barbecue monster grease, pulls out his short sword and stabs it deep into the midsection of the barbecue creature. The hilt slips out of his grasp, and the sword is left embedded in the  monster. The injured creature begins to thrash wildly, lashing out at anything within reach. Sartan grabs the sword handle and holds on tight. The monster twists and turns and a huge gash is torn open, severing skin and sinew. Sartan sees an opportunity to finish it off. He commands the salt golem again, “Attack the four-armed monster.” This time the monster understands and complies.

The salt monster pounds the weakened barbecue monstrosity to the ground, and following its command to the letter, keeps on pounding it. Bits of flesh, bone, and gristle fly as the terrifying rocky fists crash down over and over again upon the gruesome wreckage of mangled flesh. To Cycek’s chagrin, his shortsword is smashed into a bent, ruined piece of junk. He grabs a longsword from the fallen hobgoblin.

Mishok runs forward to attend to the grievously wounded Krago. He calls upon the healing grace of Divoc, and brings his fellow dwarf back from the brink of death. Sartan, meanwhile, regains verbal command over the salt golem. He orders it to run down the tunnel. As it turns and thunders away, the party notices two startled men peering at them from the far curve of the tunnel. The pair let out a squawk of fright and flee before the oncoming golem.

Mishok and Sartan follow. They see the two men slip past a bulky metal machine that fills much of the tunnel, and disappear into a hole at the ragged end of the tunnel. The salt golem is too large to get past the contraption. It rams and bashes at it until it is knocked at an angle and off to the side. It bullies its way past the damaged machinery and follows the men through the hole and into a dark space beyond. They hear its heavy footsteps pounding away.

Curious about this machinery, the group gathers and inspects it. It is a boxy steel tank on heavy iron wheels. A massive crank with four handholds is mounted on a steel shaft at the back, and a massive drill bit protrudes from the front. Some of the metal casing has dented, and a pair of support braces have buckled. It lies canted to the right, with its left and rear wheels off the ground. The drill bit protrudes through a hole in what would be the end of the tunnel. It is pitched somewhat forward as if the floor has given way before it. They notice words engraved on the side “Property of Shadowfurst Stoneyard.” Below that, smaller, is the inscription “Frandlehoobin and Son.”

As they discuss their next course of action, Sartan, injured in the battle, swigs the cloudy “healing” potion he had received from Gré, the elven druid. A strange feeling comes over him. His wounds persist but he somehow feels the potential for more power. If only he could shake this growing dizzy sensation. He becomes dizzy, staggering about, then begins speaking boisterously. He is quite drunk. Yet he revels in the newfound strength, constitution, dexterity, intelligence, wisdom, and charisma that is sure to be his as soon as he can sleep off his inebriation. They decide that next, they will investigate the iron door that Mishok has seen.

The four adventurers, along with Krago, agree to investigate the disappearance of Blasingdell’s men. After a night of rest, they depart on a beautiful autumn morning. They skirt the edge of Blasingdell Mine road, heading north. It’s a simple gravel road, but it is broad and in good repair. It winds its way up into the hills through farms and orchards, which soon give way to woods.

Not far from town, there is a spot where the road is flanked by 2 stone outcroppings. An iron chain has been drawn across the road and is secured by spikes driven into the stone.  A placard swings from the center of it. Written in a firm, clear hand is the statement: “Private Property. Road Closed.” Then in small letters: “Blasingdell Mining Coop / Wend Property Management Company.”  It is signed with a flowing black letter S. 

They duck under the chain and proceed up the road. Before long, Fuzzidong alerts to a disturbance. Pausing to look back, Cycek notices a wild canine of a some sort, perhaps a fox or a coyote, warily observing them. Curious, Cycek tries to speak to the animal, much to the chagrin of the mistrustful Davros, who would rather shoot it. The animal steps behind a tree, and momentarily an elven woman emerges from the other side of the tree. She speaks to the group, introducing herself as Gré, druid of the northern woods. She informs them that she was sent by Bontelan Wright, to seek news of the four of them, and to deliver a message. Despite Davros’ mistrust and threatening words, she provides the following information:

Bontelan is in the town of Rennet’s Cove, far to the south in the County Moldavia. He, traveled there to pay respects to the recently deceased elder Count Moldavia, but has learned the the new Count (the old count’s son), has gone mad and is believed to be responsible for a massacre on the grounds of their estate. What this means is that Wright may be delayed in Moldavia while they deal with the upheaval in that county. Meanwhile, Bontelan is concerned for the safety of his crew, and hopes for the success of their mission to retrieve the cache of Durgeddin weapons. He has evidence, gathered by another team of operatives, that the movement of hobgoblins into settled provincial lands is escalating. Furthermore, he has reason to believe that wealthy, influential powers from as far away as Tethyr may be supporting the hobgoblins. Bontelan encourages them to get the weapons to the authorities in Shadowfurst in all possible haste, as open conflict between the hobgoblin horde and Provinicial populations becomes more imminent. Worse, he fears that the aggressive gnolls are not far behind.

Gré then offers them a set of four flasks containing healing potions. On her trip here, she was wounded in a skirmish, and had to take one of the four potions she had brought from her alchemical mentor. To replace it, she brewed one of her own. But she is new at potion making, and fears that the remaining one may not be as effective as intended. Nevertheless, the explorers accept the gift, again, despite Davros’ concern that she is trying to poison them. Sartan agrees to take the “uncertain” potion. Her mission now complete, Gré speaks a few hushed words to Fuzzidong, and then disappears. Cycek notices a bit of rustling in the leaf bed, and believes that Gré has transformed herself into a tiny animal, perhaps a mouse, to elude their detection and ensure that she cannot be followed.

The group continues up the road, and Cycek fades back to make sure they aren’t being followed. He detects a movement in a treetop across the road, and soon notices that a blue-haired goblin is observing them, leaping from tree to tree like a squirrel, following the progress of the party. Cycek fires an arrow, triggering activity from a second goblin which had been unnoticed. The first one engages the party in an exchange of arrow fire, while the other one tries to flee and perhaps raise an alarm. But, the goblins don’t make it. Sartan and Cycek shoot them down.

Continuing on, they soon arrive at a clearing at the entrance to the mine. This area appears to be a staging area for transport in and out of the facility. Peering from the cover of the encroaching forest, the party sees a pair of hobgoblin guards standing before a huge set of heavy wooden doors set into a cliff face. Heaps of rubble, broken boulders resulting from years of excavation, are piled around the perimeter of the clearing and heaped up against the cliff wall. To their right is a low wooden outbuilding, perhaps a storage shed or stable, with a modest, wooden-framed watchtower attached. A single cart with a pair of draft horses harnessed to it, sits unmoving with its inattentive hobgoblin driver napping in the seat. They notice a steady column of grey smoke streaming from the crown of the hill behind the mine entrance. They smell a curiously delicious aroma, like smoked ribs. The group is reluctant to approach the well-guarded entrance more closely, but is interested in investigating the source of the smoke. They withdraw from their vantage point and disappear into the woods.

Cyceks leads the group quietly through the woods, gradually circling around to the northwest and uphill. They observe a great deal of disturbance along the way. Heavy, booted footprints mar the ground, and the sound of birdsong is nearly non-existent. In several places, the cautious Cycek notices pit-traps placed along the trails. The pit are are concealed with canvas tarps covered with leaves. The pits are armed with sharpened wooden poles, and they seem to have been recently placed.

When they arrive at the top of the hill, they find a partial clearing. The density of the woods has been thinned out and maintained as such. The hill provides a view to the south where one can catch glimpses of Blasingdell a few miles down the road. There are a few trees, rocks, and some pieces of ancient stone masonry, but the area is mostly open. Their exploration reveals that the smoke is issuing from a circular hatch. An iron collar approximately 3.5 feet in diameter juts about 2 feet up from the ground. It is capped by a flanged grate. It is hinged on one edge, and fastened with a padlock at the other. A double-chain runs down into darkness. It appears the chain is attached to the flanges, allowing them to be pivoted into a closed position, or pulled back open.

Searching the area more, they also discover the body of a repulsive creature which Cycek identifies as his favored enemy: a gnoll. It wears a necklace of desiccated ears and teeth: hobgoblin, elf, maybe even human. It wears coarse skins and leather. Its mangy fur is festooned with fungus, and parts of its body are scarred with swathes of seared, melted wounds. They leave it where is lies, partially hidden in the shade of a shrub.

It is difficult to peer down the hatch with the amount of smoke billowing out. It still smells delicious. They decide to plug the opening by tearing down a limb from a nearby tree and laying it across the opening. The weight of the branch also partly closes the flanges and does an effective job staunching the flow of smoke. They all hide in different locations surrounding the hatch and wait to see what happens.

About 30 minutes later, they hear hobgoblin voices. Two hobgoblin guards, dispatched to investigate the problem with the hatch, emerge from a trail from the east side of the hill. The “goblin” speakers in the group understand the gist of the conversation. One of the guards is complaining about having been sent up the hill into the sunlight. He deems it beneath the dignity of a warrior, and he resents being ordered about by Scaythe. Furthermore, he does not like what Scaythe and “Slender James” are up to in the mine… “making monsters.” His companion argues that as soldiers, it is not their place to argue. Their superior officer has made the decision to work with Scaythe, their “ally,” for a strategic purpose, for the betterment of the Impaled Heart tribe. He asserts that they should shut up and do their jobs.

The two guards arrive at the hatch and examine the tree branch. They look a bit puzzled. They examine  the branch and the nearby tree. One of them grunts that stupid humans should never have left trees in the vicinity of this hatch. They seem to accept that a random act of poor landscape maintenance led to this mishap. They toss the branch aside, and head back down the hill to report their findings.

Very little smoke now comes from the hatch. It appears that the source of the smoke has been quelled.

Cycek and Davros follow the guards, quietly, and the rest of the group follows further behind. They find that the access trail leads down though the woods and down the east side of the hill, eventually wrapping around to the far side of the mine entry clearing they had observed earlier. From their new vantage point, Cycek and Davros can see that behind the wooden building, a pair of hobgoblin guards is attending to a large bulky reptilian creature. It has blue green scales, eight legs, and is outfitted with a saddle and riding harness. A large, imposing hobgoblin sits on the saddle while the two attendants seem to be inspecting and adjusting straps, readying their leader to ride. The two returning guards salute the rider and then head to to main entrance, where now only one guard stands. They pull open the two enormous doors. One of the guards heads into the mine, and the other remains stationed outside the doors, which they swing shut again.

The group decides to retreat to to top of the hill and figure out their next move. They consider their options: sneak in the main entrance, fight their way in, or explore the area seeking another entry point. They decide not to explore, recognizing that there may be more goblin scouts in the vicinity who may raise the alarm. Realizing that the outpouring of smoke from the chimney has all but ceased, they take a closer look at it. They find a straight shaft descending into darkness, lined with corrugated metal. It is capped with a flanged vent hatch, which is hinged at one side and locked with a padlock at the other. Davros picks the lock and Sartan and Mishok carefully open the lid, trying to stay quiet. The sides of the shaft are somewhat greasy, but Cycek figures he can get down the shaft without having to use the chain which would almost certainly make noise. They tie a long length of rope to him as a failsafe. He carefully descends and about 60 feet down he slips. The rope holds him and he regains his foothold, but in doing so, he bangs against the metal hard enough to make a it clang. He waits quietly, listening. He hears unintelligible grunts and moans from below, and sees a dark silhouette moving against an dimly glowing orange background. He seems to hear voices raised in anger, but muffled as if farther away. Once the noice subsides, he continues downward. He realized that by the time he hits the bottom of the shaft, it would have been 120 to 150 feet down. He stops his progress about 20 feet above a creature, that has come into clearer view. It appears to be humanoid, with an awkward stance, and extra limbs that move haphazardly. The creature has brownish skin, and it moves restlessly within the confines of the shaft. It stands upon a grate, under which embers glow, giving off a small amount of smoke. It still smells delicious, reminiscent of maple, applewood, peppercorn, herbs and meat. Cycek notcies that there seems to be slivers of light entering from an uneven seam of a door in the side of the metal shaft. The creature lurches back and forth flailing its limbs. It is unfettered but does not seem to have the wherewithal to consider climbing the shaft. A sharp word from beyond the door seems to chasten the creature. It quails at the raised voice and stills its clumsy, agitated movements.

In the relative stillness, Cycek hears a bit of angry conversation. A booming voice scolds, “I sent you to see how all this smoke backed up into the workshop, and you come back telling me that a branch fell onto the vent! A branch? Just happens to fall directly on the vent on a perfectly calm day!? Don’t you know there are gnolls about? Or those interlopers from Blasingdell? I want a fully staffed party out there now, investigating this situation. Go to your captain with my orders and see that it is done now!” Cycek climbs back up and reports what he has seen and heard.

Knowing that trouble is coming, they close up the hatch, disguise their disturbances and retreat a fair distance into the woods to the west of the hill’s crown. Some 30 minutes later, more hobgoblins emerge. This time a huge hobgoblin captain rides the back of the large reptile they had seen earlier. He is accompanied by a couple of guards on foot and a pair of goblin archers. The reptile seems to have an acute sense of smell and it soon leads them to the dead gnoll. It sniffs around some more, apparently detecting various scents, perhaps confused by the ever-present aroma of smoked meat. But the hobgoblins leader seems to believe that gnolls may be nearby. His small group retreats down the hill to gather more forces to seek the culprits.

The group emerges from their hiding places, uncertain of the location of the goblin scouts. Carefully, they take several items from the dead gnoll, and prepare a scent trail back down the west side of the hill. They leave a necklace of teeth and ears and a spear along the way for any pursuers to find.

Returning to the road, they sneak back up to the entry plaza just in time to see a larger force of foes emerging from the mine. They count 6 hobgoblins, 6 goblin archers, the hobgoblin captain on his fearsome steed, and a grotesque, leathery-skinned creature that towers above the rest. It’s lanky form features four sinewy, muscular arms and four legs. The torso seems to be composed of two human torsos stacked one atop the other. Two heads, with grimacing shriveled faces, peer in opposite directions, and appear to be fused to the top of one gangly, long neck. This menacing group heads up the access path, bound again for the top of the hill, and out of sight.

From their vantage point, the party sees that there are still two guards at the door, an archer in the tower, and a cart driver still sitting, bored, on the horse-drawn cart. They decide that this is their opportunity to strike. They hatch a plan, whereby Davros will sneak up the tower and assassinate the archer. At that same moment, the rest of the group will assault the guards, hopefully taking them out before an alarm can be raised.

The execution of the plan is less that perfect. Davros ascends the tower quietly and moves to run the goblin through with his rapier. But his ill-timed sword thrust is deflected by a piece of leather armor. The startled goblin squawks with alarm. The rest of the group springs into action, still managing to get the drop on their foes. Sartan wreaks havoc with his bow, immediately slaying the two guards stationed at the door. However, unbeknownst to the party, the rubble around the mine conceals a number of goblin archers. Several goblin arrows hit home, injuring Sartan and Davros. Cycek and Krago climb the roof of the out building, where they can get a better shot at their enemies. Davros’ opponent fights back and then escapes down the tower’s ladder. Before the fleeing goblin can get too far, Cycek shoots him down. Shots are fired back and forth, and slowly the numbers of goblins diminishes. Mishok, in frustration, runs at one of the pesky remaining goblin and smashes him to smithereens with his mace. Sartan and Davros finish off the last two before they can flee and finally all is still.

They quickly gather up the dead and hide the bodies in the rubble. For now, they have unimpeded access to the doors of the mine.

The fire at Salt of the Urth burns down, and the residents of the town tentatively shuffle out into the street. The hobgoblins have gone, for now, but the men have not returned. Wicklow and the townspeople alike are horrified by the murder of Freyla.

Wicklow in fact, is in rough shape. His mind is released from the goblin shaman’s spell, but he is distraught with guilt. He is not blameless, for he harbored a gullibility and an eagerness to play the hero that the hobgoblins preyed upon. He already had a need to be seen as brave and competent, which he allowed to steer his actions. He brought the tribe to his town at least in part on his own volition, foolishly trusting that the Impaled Heart tribe would be powerful, if misunderstood, allies in protecting Blasingdell from the gnolls. Having encountered gnolls close up, he regarded them with such terror, that the hobgoblins seemed perhaps not kind, but reasonable in comparison to the savage gnolls. In fact, it was his traveling companions, the prisoners from the hobgoblins stronghold in the Stone Tooth, Geradil and Courana – or rather, their terrible demise, that so swayed his thinking. Traveling through the wilderness back to Blasingdell, they blundered into a hobgoblin scouting party. On the verge of recapture, the unlucky trio found themselves embroiled in a confrontation with a group of gnoll trackers. Wicklow was soon in the unlikely position of fighting alongside those who were once his foes. The gnolls targeted the obvious easy marks, the simple civilian couple, loving the kill more than the honorable victory over a respected opponent. They tore the hapless couple apart, and the hobgoblins, ever the battle tacticians, took this as an opening to counter attack. In this moment, Wicklow, in his fury, found an opening and impaled one of the vicious gnolls with his sword.

In the aftermath, perhaps some of the hobgoblins did harbor some sliver of respect for him. But Chargah saw right through him. She read his thoughts and knew she could manipulate him, through both the force of her captain’s personality, and her own magic. They treated him as an esteemed member of their clan, but what they really did was to inspire him to bring them to his hometown, and to guide them to the mine.

Arriving at Blasingdell, it was Wicklow who convinced the town leadership to accept the presence of the hobgoblins. The mayor, sir Miles Berek was convinced, but others were not, most notably the sheriff, Grendar Kuln, and his constable, Dara Whitewood. The sherrif insisted upon ridding the town of these unwanted visitors, and look at what happened to him… they turned him to stone!

The party gleans this information through conversation with the shellshocked townfolk. They rest through the night, and in the morning they arise with a plan to visit the mine to find out what has befallen the missing men of the town. Before they set out, they loot the bodies of the fallen hobgoblins, finding some modest coin, and plenty of serviceable arrows. The deceased hobgoblins wear “Impaled Heart” military garb while the bodies of the fallen goblin archers are clad in mismatched pieces of makeshift armor, some pieces of which seem to be of Duergar craftsmanship. They find in the possession of the late Captain Skalp a letter from “Scaythe” reporting that scouts have returned with news of nearby gnolls on the move, and advising him to remain vigilant while in transit back to the mine. The adventurers equip as many of the women in the town as they can with bows and arrows taken from the slain.

Dara Whitewood and Wicklow will stay behind to defend the town to the best of their ability should any more trouble arise. Dara warns the departing heroes, that during her time “undercover” as a barmaid, she overheard the hobgoblin bosses speaking of an “ally” who has taken up residence at the mine. She, as well as most of the town, are bitter that the owners of the mine – the Wend Family – have leased the mine to the hobgoblins.

Davros and Cycek wait impatiently into the closet, and after some minutes of hearing nothing, they open the door and look around Goerth’s empty room. It turns out to be not as empty as they had thought. They hear a voice utter some incomprehensible syllables and suddenly a jagged iron crown materializes atop Davros’s head. Goerth materializes as well. He levitates near the ceiling, one of the eye flaps on his skull cap is snapped open revealing a blue crystal eye that glows with malice. That malicious gaze inspires Davros to pull out his rapier and stab Cycek. An instant later another Duergar appears and lashes out at Cycek, delivering a glancing blow.

Goerth, floating above the combatants, moves into the opposite corner of the room. Cycek follows him, attempting to leap up and slash at him. He misses, and lands atop a pile of broken debris. Davros follows and stabs his elf companion again. This vicious wound brings Cycek crashing to the ground, unconscious and dying.

Down the corridor, the others hear the commotion and come running. They arrive in time to enter the fray. Davros breaks free of the charm that had spurred him to attack Cycek. He sees his companion lying bloodied amid the debris and moves to help him. Meanwhile, the others clash with their Duergar foes, and soon bring them both down.

Examining the bodies, they discover that Goerth had wielded a high-quality morning star, crafted by Durgeddin. The crystalline eyes in his head appear to be precious sapphires. They do not trust the power in those gems, so they leave them alone. But, they concoct another plan. They will take Goerth’s head, and leave his body behind, making it appear as if his own guard had betrayed him. They toss the body of that guard down the chasm. 

Creeping around the edge of the chasm, they are spotted by Ghared from across the way. She calls out to them, “Did you succeed? Did you take care of Nightscale?” Mishok replies, “We sure did – the dragon is dead. Come see!” Ghared and her guard disappear from view and the party hustles down the ladder.

“Here to pay your rent, are you? Well, you’re late! And I don’t tolerate delinquency! If you want to keep the flesh on your bones, you will turn over all your wealth to me immediately: your gold, your silver, your gems, your weapons, rings, potions, anything and all of value. If not, well… How does disintegration sound? Hmmmm?”

This is what Nightscale has to say to the pitiful little beings standing around gobsmacked on the shore of her black lake.

She turns to the Duergar guards who wish they could turn invisible again.

“Well? Why are you here? Here to beg for more time? Hmmmm… well there is no time. I will devour one of you and feed the other to my pet. I’m sure he’ll love the taste of one of his dwarf kinfolk. Oh… but that would leave nobody left to go take my message back to Goerth, and let him know how much I hate for tenants to be late with their rent. Sigh…. I suppose I can always go tell him myself.”

A spray of caustic, venomous fluid erupts from her fang-filled maw, hosing down the two Duergar. Their armor, clothes, and skin sizzle and hiss. The two shriek in agony, and fall dead in smoking piles of ruined flesh.

The self-satisfied dragon turns to glare at Cycek and demands, “Now – for you!!!! Ready to pay up? If they won’t pay me, then you will!”

Cycek replies, “You know, I have a problem with that…”

Nightscale is puzzled, as if anything less the obedience and quivering fear is so unimaginable as to be beyond comprehension.

”You see,” explains Cycek, “those guys you incinerated… they forced us to come down here and try to kill you. Now that they’re gone, we have no interest in inconveniencing you, so we might as well just go back where we came from.”

Nightscale seems to take an interest in this alleged plot by the Duergar against her.

They hear a voice from across the lake: “You bloody fools… give her what she wants and then run! Run your stupid asses off!!!”

”Who’s that?” asks Cycek.

”That’s my pet… no concern of yours,” replies the dragon, “So you say the Duergar sent you to kill me. A laughable idea, but one that should not go unanswered. I have a proposition for you. I’ll allow you to live, if you bring me the head of that bloated Duergar, Goerth, their chief.”

The party swiftly, and wisely,  accepts this proposition. The dragon disappears beneath the water’s surface, and the team retreats into a secluded area of the cavern to rest and strategize. The injured Davros remembers his bottle of healing hooch. He swigs half of the bottle, and although he feels somewhat rejuvenated, he also feels drunk. After about an hour, Nightscale, impatient with their procrastinaton, re-emerges and harangues them to get started. Her appearance gives Cycek an idea. He takes the half-filled bottle of hooch, and suggests that they will kill Goerth using Nightscale’s acid. She thinks the idea is deliciously murderous, and agrees to supply some acid. They fill the bottle from a dragon-teat and they part ways.

The four climb the ladder and find a hidden door at the back of the shelf overlooking the chasm. A little exploration brings them through another hidden door and into a closet which opens on none other than Goerth’s private chamber. Peeking through the door, they see an immensely fat duergar reclining on a bed. They recognize this unmistakable individual. This is the leader of the mining clan they met below Xodar’s lab. The last they had seen him, he was battling a demon amid a swirling vortex of water and arcane energy, before being lost in some kind of inter-dimensional abyss. Yet, here he is, large as life. As before, he wears a leather studded skull cap with flaps that cover his eyes. He appears to be drinking a tankard of ale while perusing the pages of a book by touch. 

Mishok decides that he will sneak into the room, and refill the Duergar captain’s tankard from the bottle of acid. If Goerth should notice him, Mishok figures that he can pass himself off as a Duergar servant refilling his master’s beverage. He sucessfully sneaks across the room, pours the lethal draught into the half-empty tankard, and then sneaks back into the closet and waits.

Before long, they hear Goerth let fly an agonized bellow. They hear crashing sounds as the obese Duergar thunders about the room, hoarsely cursing and coughing horribly. The sounds of his pain and fury grow quiet, but not silent, as he runs howling into an adjacent room. Listening carefully, they hear another voice. They quickly craft a plan, should the injured Goerth re-emerge with help in tow. Sartan and Mishok take positions at the edge of the chasm, while Davros and Cycek lie in wait within the closet. They will attempt to lure Goerth out of the room, down the corridor, and to the precipice where they will shove him over the edge. Now, they just have to wait.

Ghared interrogates the captive party. She demands to know why they are here and who they are working for. Were they hired by the hobgoblins? She expresses some grudging respect for their battle prowess, and recognizes that they have some skills she can use to her advantage. She exacts a toll from them and then hatches a plan. She offers to let the party return where they came from, or she can show them on their way to the north chambers of the complex, which she asserts are haunted. But she has a proposition for them that they may find more profitable. Her Duergar tribe has a demanding “landlady” to whom they owe payment. The “customers” in their sword-making business, Ulfe’s hobgoblin tribe, are late in payment. Frankly she thinks that with the help of the party, they can do away with the landlady, and retain payment from the hobgoblins. Then they can re-invest in their sword-making efforts, rather than stay just barely ahead of the rent demands. The party would be welcome to the landlady’s present hoard of loot, and the Duergar would be free of their constant need to pay “rent.”

The party agrees to this. In exchange for their freedom, and for a chance to earn some loot, they will attempt to bring down this landlady. It turns out the landlady is a dragon… but a young one. Ghared thinks that with the help of a couple of her toughest guards, the party can beat the dragon. She allows them to retrieve their weapons and then leads them into the Foundry.

There, they find a couple of swordsmiths at work, under the supervision of one who is introduced as Snurrevin. Ghared is clearly not above board in this scheme, as she blatantly lies to the Snurrevin. She passes the four off as a delegation of potential new customers, ones who have greater resources than the hobgoblins. She is taking them on a tour of the operations. Snurrevin is initially puzzled by this, but he finds the promise of greater resources appealing, and he quickly becomes very solicitous, eager to convince these new prospects of the quality of their wares, and the great opportunity to soon begin manufacturing weapons to rival those of the famous Durgeddin weapons.

Ghared is eager to cut this conversation short. She excuses herself and her guests and takes them on the next leg of the “tour.” She brings them to the east end of the cavern as Snurrevin and his bladesmiths return to their tasks. The roar of a thunderous waterfall grows louder as they approach a deep chasm over which the river pours, throwing up a plume of mist. Ghared brings them near the precipice and gestures to a stone shelf across the way. There, they see a rusty metal ladder descending into the depths. She tells them that here they toss their “rent” over the side, but she knows that there is a long way around to the opposite shelf, to access the ladder. That route would take them through “haunted” areas of the complex. She will send two of her guards with them as guides and combat support. Cycek has an alternate idea to get to the ladder. He ties one end of a rope to his belt, and another end to the handle of one of the unused forges. He takes a running start and leaps out over the chasm. His trajectory carries him across the gap, and the arc of his fall allows him to grab the ladder about 20 feet down. He climbs back to the top and secures the other end of the rope to the ladder, creating the means for the rest of the group to cross over.

The first to attempt the crossing is one of Ghared’s guards. His climbing skill proves to be less than his confidence and he loses his grip on the wet rope. With a yell, he falls into the darkness. Sartan decides to go next, wisely tying himself to the rope, and ensuring that his passage is safe. Next, Davros, who was not paying attention, foolishly attempts to climb across without any such safeguards. He slips from the rope and plummets into the chasm, to almost certain death. Sartan shakes his head, sighs, and says, “What an idiot.”

The rest of the party learn the lesson and make sure they are tied off before proceeding. They all make it across and then climb 120 feet down alongside the waterfall, to a lower cavern where the water thunders into a pool. Just downstream, they find the unconscious forms of Davros and the Duergar guard washed up on a gravel shoal. Remarkably, both are still breathing. Mishok administers a healing spell and brings both fallen idiots back to their feet.

The waterfall feeds a stream that flows northward to join another river emerging from the east. The combined waters flow swiftly westward. The group follows a path through the cavern, crossing a sturdy dwarven-made bridge of stone along the way. It becomes apparent that the river is flowing from a subterranean lake to the east. They proceed across another bridge, but in their eagerness, they fail to notice that this one is not structurally sound. It collapses under their weight and Mishok is cast into the rapids. Luckily, although bruised, he manages to cling to the rocks and haul himself from the current.

Crossing the broken bridge requires athletic leaps by each of the party members, but before long they are reassembled on the opposite side. The path narrows and hugs the shore of a still, dark pond. This requires the explorers to move along it in single file. Cycek leads the way, and he can see an island far out in the lake, although the far side of the cavern is lost in darkness, even to his keen elven dark vision. Despite the unclean appearance of the water, Cycek notices a dark shape moving in the depths, not far from shore. It soon resolves to a large, reptilian form. Before they can move to safety, a black, serpentine neck emerges from the dark waters, and a wicked, draconian face leers down at them. It is the dragon, Nightscale.

Having survived a tough battle with a bizarre cave creature, the adventurers continue exploring the caverns. They find what appears to be a series of small jail cells, one of which contains the skeletal remains of a halfling. Sartan notices that the big toe of its left foot is missing. This rings a bell with him and he fears this might be the remains of his one-time companion, Lefto… another fatality of Bontelan Wright’s ill-fated expedition of twenty years prior. They also find a key on the floor outside the cell. They take this item and then retrace their steps back through the caverns. Cycek again explores the flooded room only to find himself exposed to some sort of nasty infection, which Mishok immediately cures with Divoc’s divine intervention. They also find themselves again confronted with the gray ooze that had just recently attacked Mishok. This creature apparently had the means to slither under the locked door and move itself into position to ambush the party. This time, it is slain.

The group ascends the spiral staircase, returning to the glittering caverns above. They blunder into another ambush. The reptilian humanoids they had encountered earlier, have assembled their warriors and, relying on their natural camouflage, laid a trap for the returning explorers. But the wary travelers spot one of the hidden attackers moments before the trap can be sprung. Nevertheless, a fierce battle ensues. The explorers defeat the ambushers, and then seek refuge among the dwarven sepulchers they had discovered earlier. Seeing this as a safe place, one where the superstitious troglodytes would not venture, they decide to rest and recover from their recent battles. However, to their dismay, they are attacked again. This time, the reptilian tribespeople send a pair of trained giant subterranean lizards to flush the resting party from their safe zone, while their archers fire arrows from afar. This gambit also fails, and soon the lizards are slain, and the remaining troglodytes scattered.

Having their rest disturbed, they decide to arise and set out to continue exploring. Down a winding tunnel, they discover a makeshift kennel of sorts, housing a mangy, captive bear. An adjacent tunnels leads to the outside, giving forth on the north side of the Stone Tooth, overlooking the forestlands below. They lure the bear out of the cave, and release it to the wild. The fresh outside air and the sunlight is such a pleasant sight after the stench and darkness of the troglodytes lair, that they decide to leave the cave behind as well, and spend a day camping in the woods.

After a full night’s rest, the party explores the region to the north and east of the Stone Tooth. They investigate the lake to the east, and observes several things of note. There seems to be a current below the surface that leads them to suspect the presence of an underwater passage through which water must drain. They also spot some rather large reptilian footprints along the shore. They believe this to be evidence of the troglodytes and their giant lizards making regular forays out of caverns.

The morning wears on, and the adventurers feel they have discovered all the are likely to find in the region. They are frustrated at having found no trace of Durgeddin’s weapon cache, and reluctant to explore further within the caves. Nevertheless, they do return to the caves, hoping to find some passages they had not yet encountered. In doing so, they soon find a room in which a pair of skeletons lay covered with yellow mold. They wisely avoid the dangerous spores and manage to relieve one of the skeletons of a prime specimen of a Durgeddin sword. They set fire to the mold and then return to the main, large chamber comprising the Glitterhame. At the east end of the cavern, they find a small, sturdy door of iron plates, bearing silver runes of Durgeddin. Forgetting that they had recently discovered a key, Davros begins to pick the lock. But before he can complete the task, the group is ambushed by a pair of horrid worm-like predators. They successfully fight them off without incurring anything more than flesh wounds, and then get through the door as quickly as they can before any more of the creatures can emerge.

They find themselves in a broad corridor of finished stone. The follow a long stairway up to an octagonal chamber. The floor is inlaid with cracked, dusty blue tiles. The wall are of marble. Three large statues of dwarven warriors brandishing axes seem to guard two doors. Sartan investigates one of the statues and notices that the raised arm seems to have a thin gap at the shoulder joint. On a hunch, he jams a dagger into it. Mishok tries one of the doors, and discovers that it is a false door. It opens just a crack, but when it does, one of the other axe-wielding arms come crashing down, inflicting an injury upon the unwary dwarf. Distrustful of the remaining door, the explorers instead investigate the rest of the room. They faintly hear the sound of metal striking metal. They also notice that the dust is disturbed in a path leading from the top of the stairs to the back side of the east statue. Behind it they find a hidden door. The door opens upon another stairway heading upward and to the east. Halfway up the stairs they are startled by a booming voice declaring “Haaghat! Haaghat Ormath Turnamin!” There is no obvious source of the voice, but Mishok realizes this is Dwarvish. He translates the words as “Alert! Alert! Intruders approach!” Concerned by the attention this loud voice might have brought, and noticing that the hammering sound  has stopped, the party becomes very cautious. They climb the remaining stairs and reach a stone door carved into the image of a stern Dwarf’s face. They cautiously push it open, and find themselves peering into a great torch-lit hall, with a high vaulted ceiling, and lined with elaborately carved columns. The walls once bore extravagant mosaics, but they are now damaged and defaced, as is the rest of the once magnificent hall. On the far side of the hall, atop a marble dais, a mighty empty throne faces them. They see no sign of any person or creature, but a commanding voice suddenly come to their ears from an unseen source, “Go back the way you came! This is your only warning!” The party is, as always, defiant. Cycek talks back to the unseen voice, and the several members of the group take positions inside the great hall. After a brief exchange of angry words, arrows fly out of the darkness, and several find their mark. The archers are revealed as Duergar that had been concealed by their power of invisibility. They immediately enlarge to jumbo size and move to attack at close quarters. A fight ensues, nearly killing Cycek. Ghared, the apparent leader of this band of Duergar, demands that the party surrender. “Face it! You are bested,” she yells, “Throw down your weapons and surrender, or your elf friend dies!”

The party reluctantly gives up the fight. Their weapons are confiscated, and they are taken into custody. They are sat in a ring at the foot of the throne, amid makeshift sleeping pallets and a small campfire.

The four visitors to Blasingdell gaze about the interior of “The Salt of the Urth” looking for a patron with whom to strike up a conversation. A dusty looking older man seated at a table in the corner beckons them over and gestures to the empty chairs. He introduces himself as Shadwick. He is foreman of the salt mine and has just come in to unwind after a long day. His name rings a bell, and they recall that this is the gentleman whom Hilbert the cart driver had suggested they seek out. The four introduce themselves, and Shadwick, curious, asks what brings them to the out-of-the-way little town of Blasingdell. Sartan is quite open, telling him that they are heeded to the Stone Tooth seeking information about his lost colleagues from long ago. Shadwick recognizes the names that Sartan gives, and he ruefully breaks the news that he is familiar with that long-ago adventuring party, and has reason to believe that they came to a bad end. He suggests that they join him at his home for dinner, and they can talk it over. Sartan buys the remaining 10 bar patrons a round, and they walk out into the night with Shadwick. They walk through the dirt roads of the little town, to a humble thatch-roofed frame house. Shadwick calls to his wife to put out extra food for guests. She is somewhat flustered, but she is a good hostess and she pulls together what meager fare they can spare. Shadwick calls for his son, who is just home from work (also at the mine). Wicklow is a man in his late 20s. He has unkempt brown hair and a stubbled chin, and like most of the locals wears simple work clothes. He is surprised to see guests in his house – but he too is open and welcoming. Over dinner, when presented with the nature of the adventurers’ quest, Wicklow relates his recollections of the Krago expedition, and the time he spent with them. About 20 years ago, Krago, Ahura-Mazda, Lefto, Marvin, and a wizard whom he can’t quite remember had come to town on their way to the explore the stone tooth. The Shadwicks had befriended them while they spent some time in town before making their foray to the Stone Tooth. A young impressionable lad with a taste for adventure, Wicklow was quite taken with this group of hearty explorers. They told him stories of their exploits, and he hung on their every word. Wicklow now can still recalls the enthusiasm with which those explorers approached life. They were heroes to him. Eventually, they set out on their journey, and were gone for days, maybe a week, maybe more… it was so long ago, and he was so young that he can’t be sure. But they returned. No, only some of them returned. The mysterious wizard was missing, as was the halfling, Lefto. Krago and his remaining team looked beaten up, and disturbed. They no longer had the lightness of heart from before. They did not say what happened, other than to say they they meant to go back to the Stone Tooth and get their friends back. They stayed a couple of days to lick their wounds and then they grimly and resolutely set out again. Before they left, Krago left the boy this relic they had retrieved from the dungeons beneath the stone tooth. Wicklow unveils a short sword that he has had in his safe keeping ever since then. He prizes this item, and keeps in in memory of that heroic band, for he never saw them again. Now, years have passed, and his own urge for adventure has lain dormant, while he turned his attention to the responsibilities of adulthood.

Sartan examines the sword, and sure enough it bears the mark of Durgeddin. He chastises Wicklow and his entire family for being so naive and trusting as to reveal this valuable weapon to a band of heavily armed strangers. He assures them that he means them no harm, but it was very foolish of them to be so open with strangers. They need to be wiser about who they trust. Wicklow and his family are duly chastised.

Cycek asks whether Wicklow might consider joining them on their adventure. They have a shared interest. Plus they could use a guide, and Wicklow could have the adventure he has foregone all these years. These leads to much discussion among the Shadwick family. Ultimately, the reluctant parents have to admit they their son is an adult and has to make his own decisions. Sartan decides to test his aptitude for swordplay. They each grab a poker from the set of fireplace tool and try to disarm each other. Sartan notices that Wicklow is quite strong and agile, having spent many years at hard physical labor. He has very little experience or technique with weapons, but he seems physically well-suited for the life of an adventurer.

They all turn in for the night. The adventurers sleep on the floors of the dining room and living room of the tiny home. In the morning, after a modest breakfast, they spend some more time training. They have him try various weapons to see what suits him best. He has had a great deal of experience swinging hammers, but he seems most comfortable with a shortsword. They discuss options for obtaining some armor for the young man. He seems to be coming to a conclusion that yes, he will go on this adventure, but for today he must go to work. In his absence, the rest of the group go to the Kheldegan Tolm’s Superior Dry Good and General Store.

Kheldegan is an old dwarf. He tells the party a bit about the history of the hobgoblin wars, which he actually lived through. He knows of the legend of Durgeddin. He has heard rumors of demons in the forest and hobgoblins returning to the area. The party confirms the truth of these rumors. Kheldegan greets this news with the impassive acceptance of one who has seen much and is not surprised to see it again. He fears demons, and hates hobgoblins. But when they tell him of having encountered Duergar he responds with utter revulsion. “Duergar are a disgrace to Dwarvenkind!”

The party decide to purchase a week’s worth of provisions for the Shadwick family. The pay Keldegan, who will deliver the groceries to the Shadwicks. As they leave the general store they ponder spending another day preparing Wicklow for the journey, should he decide to accompany them.

Captain Skalp is not at all pleased with the situation, and even less so with Cycek. He swings his greatsword and hacks at the unconscious ranger, inflicting another bloody wound.  Dara lets out a yelp of dismay. Lieutenant Frightengale swings his weapon at her, but the nimble Dara scampers out of the way, only to be again accosted by Wicklow. At that moment the door flies open, and in strides none other than Krago. Sitting astride his shoulder is Fuzzidong, still adorned with Greasy Rag about his neck, like a filthy cape. Krago quickly takes the measure of the scene and runs toward the scrapping Wicklow and Dara. He throws himself between the two and tries to get his arms around his old friend, trying to get him to see reason. Dara takes the opportunity to run toward Cycek, and she drags the fallen hero out of harm’s way, depositing him near the barroom door.

Sartan runs forward, out of the worst of the fire, and attacks Captain Skalp. He is proving to be an effective fighter with a halberd, keeping his opponent at a distance, while dealing severe damage.

Mishok moves his spiritual weapon into range of the two hobgoblin officers. He swats at Frightengale, giving the lieutenant a hard bash over the head.  But the battle is not yet won. Sartan and Mishok continue to engage the tough hobgoblins, while Davros sees an opportunity to dash into the bar and staunch Cycek’s bleeding. He manages to quickly stabilize his fallen comrade using hasty battlefield first aid.

The fight goes on, but the fire is spreading. In fact the east wall suddenly blossoms into a fall of flame, hastening what seems to be the inevitable demise of the “Salt of the Urth” tavern. When Captain Skalp falls to Sartan’s blade, Frightengale decides the time had come to vacate the premises. He heads for the door and encounters a bit of luck when a young girl steps across the threshold. This is Frieda, the brave girl that earlier had helped Sartan and Mishok dispatch the hobgoblins who had entered her home. Frightengale grabs her and drags her into the street, where he is met by one of his soldiers coming the other way. The soldier has dragged a woman from her home. The two hobgoblins make a stand, with their captives, near the well in the town square. Frightengale yells at the adventurers who have gathered around the front of the tavern, “Stand down or these two will die, here and now!”

The adventurers are distracted from this unfolding hostage crisis, by a movement to their left. The spell-casting goblin has appeared around the side of the building, and is preparing some kind of incantation. But before she can execute the spell, she is felled by a well-placed arrow from Davros’s bow, and a blow from Mishok’s spiritual weapon.

They turn their attention back to the drama at the well. The woman in the grasp of the hobgoblin soldier looks familiar. As Krago exists the burning building with Wicklow in his grasp, it suddenly becomes clear… it is Freyla Shadwick, Wicklow’s mother.

Sartan takes a gamble and fires an arrow at Frightengale, sinking the shaft into the hobgoblin’s neck, killing him. The girl escapes the failing grasp of the dying hobgoblin as the bleeding body flops backwards and tumbles down the well.

The soldier, desperate but defiant, threatens to cut Freyla’s throat. The captive woman struggles weakly, and then, seeing her son outside the bar, calls out to him. Wicklow seems befuddled. He shakes his head as if struggling to come out of a dream. Before he can speak or act, the callous hobgoblin makes good on his threat. With a quick swipe, he cuts the hapless woman’s throat and shoves her body toward the open well. In a blink she disappears into the dark shaft. The shocked adventurers start forward, instinctively wanting to save her, and the hobgoblin seizes the opportunity to make a run for it. Sartan fires an arrow, bringing down the vicious brute, sending him sprawling in the dusty street.

A brooding quiet settles on the scene, even as women from the neighborhood step out of their homes, wondering why their men have not been returned from the mine. Smoke billows from the “Salt of the Urth” as the building is engulfed in flame and begins to collapse upon itself. Krago grimly places an arm around Wicklow who, like the tavern, seems to have collapsed upon himself in the street. He holds his head in his hands and his shoulders shake with silent sobs.

Cycek has been dragged out of the building before it is consumed. Mishok calls upon Divoc to heal his companion, and shortly the elf is up on his feet, wondering what happened. The rest of the team tries to figure out a way to save Freyla. They retrieve her body from the well, but it is too late. She is dead, and there is nothing they can do about it.

Lieutenant Frightengale and Wicklow arrive at the Salt of the Urth with their prisoner, Cycek. Frightengale dismisses the door guards and sends them down the street to assist with the surprise door-to-door household inspections. Cycek is dragged across the threshold, into the tavern, and is presented to the local hobgoblin leadership. Seated across the once-welcoming taproom, are a hulking, armored hobgoblin officer and a tiny, withered goblin. She is clad in a grey cloak festooned with decorative chains made of bones, claws, and teeth. Flanking them are two tall, hairy bugbears. The lieutenant allows his esteemed companion, Wicklow, to proffer their guest (prisoner), Cycek, to the officer, who introduces himself as Captain Skalp. Skalp calls to the serving wench to bring ale. Cycek recognizes that this “wench” is, in fact, constable Dara.

Wicklow extolls the virtues of his elf friend, trying to persuade the Captain that this would be a great addition to their team. Skalp mockingly thanks the “great warrior” Wicklow for his wisdom in bringing him such a worthy recruit. The hobgoblin captain turns to Cycek, and tells him that if he wishes to join the Impaled Heart Tribe, then he is going to have to make an oath and prove his commitment. The serving wench brings mugs of ale and sets them on the table. Before she turns to go, Skalp takes her by the arm and says, “Cycek Spytek, you have been honored with this opportunity to swear an oath of allegiance to the Impaled Heart Tribe. Now, prove yourself worthy. Take your dagger, and cut her throat!”

Cycek wants nothing to do with taking such an action and immediately counter offers. Wicklow turns to Dara, seeming to see her with freshly opened eyes. The tiny goblin shaman turns to him and utters a short, unintelligible phrase. His eyes seem to go glassy, and he turns away from Dara. Skalp insists, “Do it now! There is no place for squeamishness among us. Kill her now!” He holds Dara tightly as she thrashes, trying to escape. Cycek tries talking his way out of this situation, but Skalp quickly loses patience. “Enough!” he shouts, “Wicklow! Show him how it’s done. You slit her throat. Do it now!” The goblin interjects her own grim encouragement, “Yes… yes. Kill her now, boy. You’re not afraid to take a life!”

Wicklow pulls out a blade, and with only the slightest hesitation, slashes at her exposed neck. But Dara is fighting for freedom, and she is a skilled fighter at that. She thrashes in the grasp of her foes, and manages to shift her throat out of the path of the blade in the nick of time. She receives a flesh wound to her neck and begins to bleed profusely.

Cycek takes the opportunity to spring into action. He leaps across the table, and lands in between Dara and Skalp, knocking her out of the hobgoblin’s grasp and sending her staggering away from the fray.

Outside the bar, Davros has been listening and watching the developments. Now realizing that the situation has spiraled out of control, he calls to Sartan and Mishok, and fires an arrow through the window. He hits the tiny goblin. She lets out a hiss and withdraws from the combat, disappearing behind a chair. Mishok and Sartan run to join Davros at the tavern’s west wall, but the movement attracts attention from the hobgoblin guard who has been hassling the neighbors across the street. Soon, they are under attack by hobgoblins from the street, while trying to engage the enemies within and save Cycek from impossible odds. Mishok climbs through the window. Sartan slays a hobgoblin and then follows. The two bugbear guards rush them.

Wicklow, still trying to comply with the command to kill Dara, continues struggling with her, but finds himself no match for the combat-trained constable. She pulls out a kitchen knife she had secreted in her belt, and deals a couple of non-lethal wounds in an attempt to subdue her one-time crush.

Mishok conjures an ethereal club, and directs it to bash one of the bugbears, which it does quite soundly. But he is shortly thereafter dealt a shock. The goblin shaman steps out of hiding and with a wave of her gnarled hands and a hissed phrase, she sends a powerful bolt of lighting through both Cycek and Mishok. Captain Skalp presses the advantage and swings his great sword at the still-twitching elf. Blood spurts from a grievous wound, and Cycek crashes to the floor. The goblin shaman again ducks out of view.

More blows are traded and soon the two bugbears lie dead on the barroom floor, and another hobgoblin lies dead in the street. Lieutenant Frightengale enters the fray, attempting to bring down Dara, who is now clearly not the docile serving wench they had taken her for. The goblin shaman steps out of hiding one more time. She waves her hands, and speaks a few arcane words. A huge ball of fire erupts in the middle of the tavern, singeing Sartan, and setting the floor, ceiling, and furniture on fire. The goblin announces, “We don’t need this place. Not this bar, nor this town. Let it burn and you can burn with it!” She turns and nimbly leaps upon the sill of the eastern window, and exits the burning building.