Varkoth the Conquerer

With the giants beaten the group delved deeper into the dungeon. There were more traps and taunts left behind by the Bloodstone but the vigilant group managed to avoid the traps. They were however getting tired of the of the endless darkness and the bleakness of the labyrinth. At last they were out of the dungeon, but still deep underground. Blueterion marvelled at the new giant hammer she had found, as she attuned to this new weapon, she understood that it had immense power.

The cavern Miri had led them to was vast with no sign of the edges in sight. Morthos looked up and thought about how Honkess would have been relieved to have been able to stretch her wings, the ceiling had to be at least two hundred feet high. Along the ceiling were glowing amber stones that seemed to form a spine and rib cage. Norbert explained that these glowing bones were those of the radiant dragons that had been trapped within the earth during the forging of the world. The caverns formed around their long-decomposed bodies with only their petrified glowing bones remaining.

Miri led the group to her home, a small town of ogres that had been cursed with lycanthropy. The wizard that had infected the group of ogres had expected to create an army of blood lusting ogres with regenerative traits, that could change into giant werewolves. However, the lycanthropy disease had an unexpected effect, it reduced the ogre’s aggression and increased their intelligence. They had far more control over the shape changing and could resist the urge of the full moon. The ogres tried to live in peace with other humanoids, but they were not trusted and often harassed into leaving an area. Eventually they settled underground.

Miri told the group how the ogres had found peace for nearly a century. This area of the underdark had been fairly peaceful, the duergar and other creatures tended to leave them alone. They had dealings with a few drow elves, but they tended to live far deeper than Miri’s people and were not commonly seen. Things had changed recently, armies of bugbears bolstered by Fomorian giants, and humanoid followers of the Bloodstone. The attacks had been stopped but some of Miri’s people had been abducted in the attacks.

The group rested for a couple days enjoying the space before heading back into the dungeon. Miri decided to travel with the group and led them to another entrance that would take them to a lower part of the dungeon. Some of Miri’s people had gone in through the lower entrance to find what was causing the attacks on the town but they had never returned. Miri hoped that by joining the group they might find them and the others that had been abducted.

The group followed Miri along a winding downward path until the came to a stone wall that had been recently covered over with wooden supports and a large wooden door. With a couple blows from her new hammer of thunder and lightning Blueterion made short work of the door. They were once again in the Bloodstone’s labyrinth. They came across a few bugbears as travelled deeper into the dungeon, the bugbears were defeated quickly and easily.

They then found themselves in a great hall adorned with emblems of the ancient fire giant folk that had once thrived here. Great pillars spanned the forty feet from floor to ceiling and three lava rivers that had once run through the room had long cooled and hardened. It appeared though that somebody had been working to repair the great hall and restore the rivers by clearing away the hardened stone.

“Ahh Blueterion, it is so nice to see you after all of these years” said a deep voice that echoed within the chamber. Blueterion recognized the voice as that of Varkoth. “I have watched your progress from afar, perhaps I judged to hastily all those years ago” said the ruler of her people, a man that despised Blueterion simply because she was different. He claimed that her differences were disabilities, but Blueterion saw her differences as strengths.

“So you’re the Bloodstone, why hide who you are Varkoth” Blueterion replied with clear contempt in her voice. This was the man that had forced her to leave her family and her home behind. Her hand gripped her new hammer.

“All things have their reason Blueterion, but I must say you have become an impressive warrior. You have exceeded everything that I would have ever thought you would achieve. I apologize for that misunderstanding Blueterion and would extend an offer of reconciliation”.

“You offer the beads of peace in one hand, but surely hold a blade in the other, I would never trust any deal that you would propose” Blueterion said, the desire to rage and smash the vile man filled her. Her grip on the hammer’s handle tightened.

“You could return to Zarathen, see your family. I am certain they miss you, it has after all been an incredibly long time since they have seen you. I would make you a queen, second only to me, and you could lead Zaratehn with a new vision. Join me and you can return home”. Varkoths voice was soft, with a hint of compassion but his words were hollow.

“I will return home on my own time, I would never join you Varkoth”.

“I have wronged you I get it, but you and I are Zarathanian, you and I are from the same home. Joining me would bring peace and prosperity to Zarathen and the world. I have found a higher calling, a mother that I never had. If you miss your mother and your family join me, convince your friends to leave and join me. Become a queen. Reunite with your family, help them and your people. That is what is important”.

“We will not be leaving” said Morthos to fill the moment of silence. Blueterion just stared at Varkoth as if thinking about what he had said. Morthos wondered if she was considering the offer.

“Then I am afraid you will need to be taken care of, Blueterion help me, and I will make you queen of as many lands as you like, your family will become kings and queens as well. What I have begun will be the greatness of our people. Help me kill these people and we can bring greatness to our people together”.

“I SAID NEVER’ Blueterion roared as she threw the hammer at Varkoth. The hammer struck the evil red dragonborn in the chest sending him sprawling to the ground, it was then the assassins hidden in the shadows attacked.

Ash and dust swirled in the torch light as the Trollskull Syndicate stood back-to-back among the pillars the of the ancient runes. Arace, gleaming in radiant plate, held his shield high as Bob nocked another arrow, his gaze locked on the shadows creeping through the craggy terrain.

Then the air boomed. A thundercrack of arcane force erupted as Varkoth descended from a burst of fire and smoke, crimson scales gleaming like molten metal. The red dragonborn wizard’s eyes pulsed with malevolent energy, and with a flourish, he slammed his staff into the ground.

The earth groaned in response. From the stone around them, three massive earth elementals clawed their way free, while twelve black-cloaked assassins flowed forward like ink.

“Scatter and strike!” barked Arace, his voice righteous thunder.

Blueterion roared, already hurling herself into the melee with reckless abandon. Her great hammer, crackling with lightning, carved into the nearest elemental, each swing sending shards of stone and sparks flying. Miri dashed towards a pillar to find some cover and then started firing from her powerful rifle in quick succession. One assassin dropped, pierced through the throat before he even reached the group.

Bob faded into the shadows, moving through the chaos like a ghost, blade flashing in silence. Each step was a calculated kill. Two assassins fell before they knew he was behind them.

Morthos, ever the showman, danced through the battlefield. He spun, strumming his lute filling the air with the music of confidence, weaving spells and steel into an artful display of misdirection and mockery. “You call that a fireball?” he laughed as he deflected a spell with a glimmering countercharm, sending his own psychic blades into a wizardly assassin's mind.

Norbert stood at the rear, robes torn and face smeared with ash. But his hands glowed with immense power, arcane sigils swirling as he unleashed Chain Lightning across the ranks. Three assassins spasmed and collapsed, smoke curling from their armor.

But the group were out numbered and the regrouping enemies pushed forward. One elemental caught Blueterion mid-charge, slamming her into the ground with a thunderous crash. Miri shrieked as knives thrown by assassins pierced her armour, and forced her from her position. Morthos staggered, bleeding from multiple wounds, but still playing music and casting enchantments. Bob was forced to retreat, two assassins in pursuit.

Arace squared off against Varkoth himself. Holy energy surged around the paladin as he smote the Varkoth again and again, divine light clashing with arcane radiance. Norbert, realizing the nature of the foe, shouted, “It’s a simulacrum! The real one’s not here!”

But it was too late to stop. The Syndicate was locked in survival.

With one final cry to his god, Arace drove his blade through Varkoth’s heart. The dragonborn’s body shimmered, cracked like porcelain, and exploded into shards of ice and illusion. The simulacrum was destroyed—but the threat remained. The real Varkoth still lived, and the Syndicate was barely standing.

Bloodied, bruised, and half their number collapsed or barely conscious, the heroes circled together.

“We have to go. Now,” Norbert rasped, blood on his lips, hands shaking as he clenched the staff of heroism, the fear inside him faded as he concentrated on the spell.

“No time for flair,” muttered Morthos.

Norbert began the incantation. The assassins regrouped. The remaining elementals thundered toward them smashing everything. Without the simulacrum controlling the creatures they had become frenzied smashing at everything. Pillars were shattered and the room was starting to collapse.

The spell finished just as an elemental launched a massive piece of pillar toward them—and in a flash of light, they vanished.

The Trollskull Syndicate reappeared in a courtyard outside Trollskull Tavern. A startled stableboy screamed and fled as the six bloodied adventurers stumbled into him.

Arace collapsed to his knees. Bob checked for pursuers. Miri groaned and flopped over. Morthos dramatically sighed, “Let it be known, death was but a breath away.”

And Norbert, pale and panting, whispered, “He’ll come. Varkoth knows now.”

Blueterion chuckled hoarsely. “Good. So do we, he will fear us now.”