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The Escape

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The Escape

Dorf watches his friends as they try to recover from the fight, he knows they are hurting just as much as he is from losing Uptharr. He steels himself against the pain pushing it down deep inside where it will fuel his rage in the future. He will deal with the grief someday, but today he needs to see his remaining friends safely out of this dungeon. Guilt weighs heavily on him as he realizes Uptharr would still be alive if he hadn’t dragged them all down here to save Hruna. Dorf paces the hallway looking for anything hidden or out of place, trying to distract his mind from the terror of his friend disintegrating in front of his eyes. Frustrated at finding nothing he prowls the hallway keeping an eye open for any dangers.

As the Tiny Hut spell takes hold for the first time since they've been down here, Mutt allows himself to relax a degree. Removing the bedroll from his pack, he leaves it rolled up and places it under Azalie's head while Fizz finishes casting Lesser Restoration on Azalie. Her breathing seems to steady and the greying rot that was spreading throughout her arms has stopped progressing but doesn't go away. Mutt frowns inwardly as her color remains pallid and her breathing weak. Mutt looks down and sees the look of concern still on the gnome healer's face as Azalie doesn't fully recover. Forcing a smile for the sake of the rest of the group, he places a hand on Fizz's shoulder.

"Thank you, Fizz. You may have saved her life just now. We'll find a cure for Azalie, don't you worry. If anyone can do it, I know you can."

Mutt takes a few steps away from the group and sits cross-legged, closing his eyes and just breathing for several moments. He idly fingers Uptharr's holy symbol around his neck and tries to process everything that just transpired. The hole left by Uptharr's missing presence feels like a physical, tangible thing. It feels like Mutt can almost reach out and touch where the paladin is supposed to be. Mutt shakes his head and forces down the emotions that threaten to push their way up from his gut. Removing the flask of spirits from his pack, he takes a long pull and coughs as the fiery liquid makes its way down his throat. Mutt continues to trace the counters of the holy symbol and curses himself. This was why he refused to get attached to anyone. This was why he kept everyone at arms' length. If you don't get close to anyone, they can't let you down. They can't betray you. They can't make you hurt like this when they're gone. Mutt looks to the rest of the group. Azalie's shallow, restless breathing and the surviving Howlbears working through their own individual grief and his heart breaks a second time. He pushes the negative thoughts and poisonous feelings from his mind and stands before the group. Clearing his throat, he waits until he has their attention before proceeding.

"Uptharr was the first person I noticed when I joined that caravan that brought us all together." Mutt chuckles. "I mean, how could you not? The man was huge, and I can't remember the last time I saw hair that fiery red."

He pauses for a moment, then continues.

"It wasn't the height or the hair that made him stand out to me though. It was his presence. The way he stood tall and just brought a sense of protection and comfort to everyone around him. Caravan roads are always dangerous, but people just seemed to feel safer and less worried with him around. It wasn't anything physical about the man that brought that sense of calm, peace, and comfort. It was his spirit. His energy."

Mutt toys with the holy symbol around his neck. "His physical presence may be gone, but his spirit and energy have not left. They're here with us. In all of us. Uptharr lives on in each and every person here. As long as a Howlbear draws breath, Uptharr lives." Mutt smiles at Hruna. "That includes you too, Hruna." Mutt smiles at everyone in the group. "Does anyone else want to say a few words?"

Azalie listens to Mutt talk about Uptharr, but his voice feels far away, like he's speaking from behind a closed door. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do. The loss of Uptharr tears through her chest, sharper and deeper than anything she’s ever felt. Tears run in thin streams through the blood on her face, carving painful paths down her cheeks. How is she supposed to survive losing another friend? Another piece of her?

She tries to explain how she and Uptharr met, how they bonded so quickly, how he had become someone she trusted without even realizing it was happening. But the words won’t form. They fall out in broken shapes, heavy with grief.

“I am really going to miss him,” she whispers. “He was… very important to me.”

The ache is too much. Azalie folds inward, covering her face with her hands as she curls into a ball. She wants the day to end, wants the world to stop pushing her so far past her limits. “I will follow you guys,” she manages through a sniffle. “Let’s just get out of here.” Her voice is barely more than a breath. Her body feels like it’s shutting down. She closes her eyes.

Fizz listens to Mutt's words with tears still glistening in his eyes.

"He sure was big Mr. Mutt! Big and strong as an old oak tree."

 "I would give anything just to feel a fresh breeze on my face again! I'm sorry to leave our things behind my friends, but I think we should take the chance to escape now. Without Uptharr... (Fizz pauses to collect himself), we don't stand a chance against an army of Drow."

Mutt continues to smile widely at everyone.

"Rest now. We need to turn our focus to getting out of here. Azalie still needs help and we're not out of the woods yet."

Mutt eats several bunches of grapes and washes it down with the last of his water. His stomach still growled, but it would have to wait. He walks over to Orin and looks warily at the orb. He looks from the swirling darkness to the wizard and realizes just how glad he is Orin is here with them. Mutt gestures to the orb shaped opening and looks at Orin. "It sure looks like that's where the orb would fit, but any idea what happens when we put the orb in there? Will it just open the door or what else could happen?"

Inside the sheltering shimmer of Mutt’s Tiny Hut, Orin sits quietly while the Howlbears grieve, recover, and take stock of what’s left of them. A few berries offer some relief from his growing hunger as he watches Mutt speak of Uptharr with reserved softness, watches Fizz cling to Azalie, watches Hruna’s stern face crack under the weight of loss. No words he could offer would lessen what has happened, but as Mutt addresses him, he stands and speaks.

“The Oculus is dangerous. Touching it directly risks letting fragments of Malefax’s mind reach out. Maybe not enough to control you, but enough to wound the spirit, for sure.”

He looks to Azalie. “It's not what is causing the rot in her, but it resonates with it. The closer she is to the orb, the more strain it puts on her body. Until she’s healed, we keep her as far from it as we can. I will carry it when we leave, but we should take precautions when handling it."

 “The Oculus is the key for this door, and I agree that we should return to the surface. Get help for Azalie. Warn the folk of this place. Recover. Maybe learn more of this... thing," as he eyes the Oculus.

He turns to Mutt. “When we’re ready, use Mage Hand. Keep it between us and the orb. Once we've unlocked this door, we can stow it - wrap it in a blanket and drop it in a satchel. I will maintain my wards and let you know if there is any danger."

“Let us return to town,” he says quietly. “For Azalie’s cure. Then perhaps we can return here... for Uptharr."

Mutt nods, "I agree, lets Rest now. We need to turn our focus to getting out of here. Azalie still needs help and we're not out of the woods yet."

One by one, the Howlbears fall asleep inside the safety of the Tiny Hut. For once, they actally feel safe.

The silence that follows is thick enough to smother.

Azalie jerks awake, disoriented for a moment. The tiny hut Mutt conjured glows softly around her, warm and protective. Everyone inside is sleeping, finally safe for the moment. She lets herself breathe.

She needs to go to the bathroom.

She moves to wake Hruna. She touches her arm, then gives her a gentle shake, then says her name softly. Hruna doesn’t move. “She must be exhausted,” Azalie thinks. The others are worn thin too, especially the boys. She decides not to disturb any of them.

She steps out carefully. Halfway through the opening she freezes, listening. Nothing. Not a single drop of water, not even the scrape of stone shifting. The air feels heavy, pressed tight around her.

Then Mellon bursts out of the hut in a sudden rush of feathers. Azalie jumps so hard she draws her flameblade out of instinct. “Mellon,” she hisses, gripping her sword, “you scared the shit out of me.”

The bird flutters to her shoulder, but her focus is already on something else.

A faint glow shines from the exact spot where Uptharr fell. Soft and familiar. It looks almost like the shimmer of his shield.

She steps toward it, slow and careful.

Azalie kneels at the place of his last stand. Her hand finds her moon petal necklace, her fingers brushing it in a slow, trembling rhythm. Her eyes close. Her head dips, shoulders sagging under the weight of everything she’s carrying. She wonders—again and again—if she could have done something differently.

Her breath slows. Her mind blurs at the edges.

Then she feels something shift.

Her eyes open.

Uptharr stands in front of her.

She can’t stop the tears. They spill instantly.

“Oh Azalie,” he says, his voice warm and steady, “don’t cry for me. I am with Tyr, and He is with me.”

She knows it must be a dream, yet everything feels real enough to hurt. Her hand stays on her pendant, stroking it gently as if grounding herself.

“Why did you have to die?” she asks. “I was just getting to really know you. It feels like we’ve known each other forever.” She lowers her head. “You were the only father I had. I know that sounds strange, but I’ll miss you like I lost a father.”

Uptharr laughs—bright, full, and so unmistakably him. His eyes shine with tears of joy. “I will be watching from above,” he says. He places a hand on her head and pulls her into a hug. His warmth washes over her, and she knows in her heart he is safe.

“Now go tell the others,” he says, turning to leave.

“Tell them what?”, she asks

He stops. Closing the distance in a flash. His hand clamps around her arms. His expression shifts. His face tensed and serious.

“Tell them they are coming,” he says. His breath chills her skin. “He knows.”

The world shatters—

She jolts upright inside the hut—breath ragged, skin slick with sweat,

Azalie gasps awake, heart hammering. This time she knows she is awake.”

Her heart slams against her ribs as she spins, searching the darkness, every sense alert.

Mellon screeching above her.

“Everybody wake up!” she gasps. “We have to MOVE!”

The others stir immediately, without hesitation, as if they have practiced this before.

Fizz trips over his own feet. Dorf’s axe is already out. Orin’s runes light. Mutt turns, instinctively shielding Azalie with an arm.

Before anyone can speak—

they all feel it.

A psychic tremor. A cold, slick pressure brushing at the edges of their minds.

Then—a sound like wet stone being pried apart.

Boom…Boom…BOOM.

The great stone gate they passed through—the one sealed by Malefax’s wards—is being forced open.

And now, with the god of rot dead, its protections are gone.

Low chanting echoes beyond the cracks. Multiple voices. Drow. Mind flayers.

They have been working at the gate for hours while the Howlbears slept.

And now—

“—the wards are failing,” Orin breathes. “They’re opening it.”

Mutt dispels the Tiny Hut instantly.

The psychic pressure intensifies. Someone on the other side is probing. Searching.

For them.

You have seconds—not minutes.

Orin shoves the wrapped Oculus into Mutt’s hands. “Mage Hand. Now.”

Mutt summons it with a flicker of arcane force. The spectral hand lifts the orb.

The runed door at the far end of the chamber flares to life—crimson sigils spiraling, awakening.

POWER HONORED, POWER FREED.PROVE YOUR CLAIM AND THE WAY SHALL OPEN.

Mutt presses the Oculus into the recess using the Mage Hand.

The stone convulses—the runes blaze—and a vertical seam splits through the door.

The ground rumbles.

Behind you, the main gate shrieks as something wedges fingers—or tentacles—into the widening crack.

A voice whispers inside your skulls.

“They are inside.”

Azalie pales. “It wasn’t just a dream,” she whispers. “Uptharr was warning me.”

The runed door grinds open, revealing a narrow tunnel sloping upward into darkness. Cold, fresh air drifts down from somewhere far above.

“Go!” Dorf snarls. “Everyone MOVE!”

Fizz grabs Azalie’s arm.Mutt ushers Hruna forward.Orin backs into the tunnel last, wand raised.

The moment Mutt’s Mage Hand withdraws the Oculus—the door slams shut behind you with the sound of a mountain collapsing.

Something hits the far side with tremendous force. Dust sifts through the cracks. A chorus of furious, alien minds batter at the runes.

The door holds.

For now.

Orin exhales shakily. “It will not last forever. We need to keep moving.”

The Ascent:

The escape tunnel is narrow—barely wide enough for one at a time—and spirals upward like a vein cut through the mountain. The air grows colder. Cleaner. Alive.

Your footsteps echo as you climb. The ground trembles once—maybe a distant explosion, or the runed door taking another hit.

After several minutes, light appears ahead—faint, gray, and real.

The passage ends at a jagged opening, half hidden by snow-laden boulders.

Dorf squeezes through first, pushing aside ice and rubble.

And then—you step out into daylight.

The wind hits like a blessing. Cold. Sharp. Free.

Above you stretch the great white peaks of the Spine of the World—towering, ancient, untouched. The sky is pale winter blue. The sun hangs low, glinting off the snowfields below. It's cold, but you barely notice.

For the first time in days, the air tastes clean.

For the first time in days, you breathe fully.

Behind you, deep within the mountain, you still hear echoes and rumbles, you cannot tell if the Runed door is still holding them back, or if they are in the tunnel.

Not yet.

You are outside. You are alive.

Azalie leans into Mutt’s shoulder, exhausted. Fizz clutches her hand. Dorf scans for threats. Hruna sobs quietly into her palm. Orin stands with the Oculus held carefully at his side, face unreadable.

The world is wide open.

You have escaped the Pit of Maleficence.

Azalie is dying.

Uptharr is gone.

The Oculus is yours.

Xal’Zyress knows.

What do the Howlbears do next?

XP Awarded

Current Time: 6:25 AM

Date: Tenthday, 30, Alturiak, 1742

Temperature: 21°

Current Phase: Exploration

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