>>5341722It is a long march, and over the course of it, the red glow of the setting sun gives way to darkness, as might be expected… But then, to your surprise and initial confusion, the sky seems to open up anew and spill yet more heavenly blood upon the cliffs, a second sunset—or sunrise?—from the opposite direction. It is only when you wind the final path that the source is revealed to you, and your confusion turns to delight:
>20The dwarven fortress is wrecked, alight with flames despite its sturdy construction.
The bulk of the tunnels below bore into the earth, and much of their defensive bulwark—a towering, imposing structure—is also stone, but there are some uses to which stone cannot be quickly and efficiently put. All of these were made with wood from the forests below, and ALL of them are ablaze. Dwarves—small, squat, hairy ape-folk, uniformly bearded and roughshod in appearance—run about frantically, trying to stomp out or smother flames. A few pour water upon the fires from buckets, but this only seems to spread it further, and the majority seem to be reverting to sand. By their utter disorganization, you can assume one of two things: their competence and organization was grossly overstated, or the mission of sabotage has been a huge success, and their command structure is in complete disarray.
“What are they shouting?” you ask the Translator, falling back to do so.
“Many things,” he says with clear pleasure, “all of them quite bad for them. They say that monsters have attacked the fortification from below—that they have killed their Chief Trader, that they have killed MANY. None of the dwarves now knows who is in charge, and their forces are apparently engaged below, trying to drive them back.”
You grin a terrible grin.
“Well then, shall we create a second front?”
You sit astride the basilisk—a creature that, though not enormous in size, is great enough in length to support you atop its barrel-like body with is six powerful limbs. Too late, the dwarves catch sight of your silhouettes, cast into shadows by the flame but still visible in the murk thanks to their race’s darkvision. You share that trait, though, and you see with wicked glee the effect that the terrible glare of your mount has upon them—they double over, recoiling in pain and confusion as the paralyzing eyes of the creature take their toll on all it surveys.
