Taen had no further time to spare for his companions, however. The largest wyvern, driven beyond rage at the burning touch of the half-elf's arcane acid, launched an all-out assault against him. The half-elf ducked once beneath its snapping jaws and dived forward, curling his body into a ball and springing to his feet in order to avoid the sweeping dart of its poisoned tail. Off balance from his defensive maneuvers, Taen could not avoid the creature a third time. He cried out as the beast's stinger plunged deep within his chest. Before it could withdraw it, however, he slashed down hard at the extended tail, severing it with a single swipe.
Taen stumbled back, the tip of the wyvern barb still embedded in his breast, pulsating as it spewed its deadly toxin. The half-elf's veins ran with poison, and he could feel the cramping of his heart muscle. It was as if hot acid flowed through the pathways of his body, searing away tissue and life. He gasped once for air, trying to force his lungs to work, but they would not obey him.
He stumbled and fell to his knees just as Borovazk ducked beneath a wild snap of the wyvern's jaws and brought his own axe down on the creature's neck. The enchanted blade cut swiftly through its scale and skin, biting deeply into tissue and bone. The wyvern gave a strangled, gurgling hiss, then collapsed to the floor in a ground-shaking heap.
As the ranger turned to see what had befallen Taen, the half-elf could see the light of victory dim then disappear from the Rashemi's eyes. He wanted to see more, to tell the ranger that he would be all right, but a shimmering gray haze began to gather at the edge of his vision. The pain of his wounds floated away beneath a growing lassitude. Twice now he had come to the doorway of death. It was unlikely that he would pass this way again. A part of him raged against the unfairness of it all-that he had survived so much, only to fall in a dank wyvern cave at the edge of nowhere. Another part, however, had already begun to let go.
The gray fog deepened, drawing like a curtain before his eyes-only to disappear in a burst of light and warmth. Pain returned, like an old friend, to his body. He gasped as his lungs sucked air into their expanse, remembering what it was to obey him. He could see his companions standing around him: bloodied Borovazk, grinning despite the torn flesh hanging from his shoulder; grim-faced Roberc, cleaning his gore-covered sword and offering Taen a simple nod of his head; and standing behind them Marissa, her hand still glowing from the spell she had just cast.
"Try as you might, Taenaran," the druid said with a wink, "you can't get rid of us that easily."
Laughter rose up in him at that, and he groaned as it aggravated his wounds. Though they had removed the barbed stinger from his chest, it still ached fiercely. Carefully, they helped him to his feet, and together they explored the rest of their surroundings.
The cavern itself stretched its rounded expanse in all directions. Stalactites hung unevenly from the ceiling, their jagged lengths resembling giant, twisted teeth. The surface of the dull gray stone that made up the majority of the cavern ran unevenly-forming deep ridges that often flowed back into themselves.
"Well," Roberc asked as he peered through the shadows at the cave wall, "where have we gotten ourselves this time?"
Taen grunted at the question. Clearly they had stumbled into the wyverns' lair, that much was certain from the stench of rotting meat and the pile of splintered bones tossed around the cavern, but where exactly that might be was anybody's guess.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. "Something-or someone- interfered with the teleport spell."
"Then we could be anywhere," Marissa said. "There's no telling how far away we are from Citadel Rashemar." She sat down on a small outcropping of stone.
"Do not worry, little friends," Borovazk said, his voice echoing in the vast cavern. "We are not too far from the citadel."
"How do you know?" Taen asked the ranger. Perhaps there was hope for their quest after all.
"Listen," the ranger said, pointing his finger up toward the ceiling. "Do you hear that? Is the prydvya, the singing wind. It only blows that hard in the highest places of the Sunrise Mountains. Citadel Rashemar must be close."
Taen cocked his head and listened. Indeed, he could hear a high-pitched wail coming distantly from beyond the walls of the cavern. The wind's sharp wailing would need to be very strong for them to hear it deep within the cavern.
Something else registered in his sensitive half-elf ears as he listened to the shrieking of the wind-the sound of something, or someone, scurrying across rock. If he strained, he could also hear the creature's snuffling inhalations. It grew louder as he listened.
"We have company," Taen whispered softly, not wishing to alert whatever was drawing near them.
"I heard it too," Roberc whispered back. He quietly spoke a command to Cavan.
The animal cocked its head once then silently padded off into the darkness. Within moments, a high-pitched shriek filled the cavern, followed by the familiar low warning growl of the war-dog.
Taen and the others ran toward the sound, weapons already drawn to face whatever threat Cavan had uncovered. When they arrived, their light revealed the war-dog's powerful jaws clamped around the muddy wool cloak of an orange-skinned humanoid. The creature's wide mouth hung open, revealing a set of small, sharp fangs, and its deep-set eyes whirled and gleamed a sickly yellow in the arcane light. It gibbered and cried out in a harsh language that sounded to Taen like the retching and hacking of a plague-wracked human as it caught sight of the assembled companions.
"Goblin," Roberc said with obvious disgust. "They're like rodents. If you see one, there's bound to be more hiding under rocks nearby."
He then spat a series of unintelligible words at the frightened creature in what Taen reasoned must have been its own tongue. The goblin fell silent at the sound of its language streaming forth from the halfling's mouth.
Watching it cringe and cower at their presence, the half-elf felt a confused rush of pity and disgust for the goblin. Alone and even in small tribes, the creatures were usually nothing more than nuisances. Like orcs and others of their ilk, however, goblins were quite fecund and often bred like vermin. Roberc had spoken the truth-goblins very rarely ventured out by themselves, and once they gathered in significant numbers, they could present a real and powerful threat. What in the world would this one be doing skulking around a wyvern's cave?
"No hurt! No hurt!" the goblin shouted in broken, heavily accented Common, interrupting Taen's musings. "Yurz not meaning any harm to gr
… great lords," it stammered out.
"What are you doing here?" Taen asked harshly.
"Elfling call off monster wolf," Yurz cried in a piteous tone, "then I tell all." The creature cowered further against the uneven stone wall of the cave but stopped as Cavan growled deeply at his movement.
Taen frowned and looked at Roberc. The halfling cursed softly then barked a command at Cavan. Instantly, the war-dog released the goblin's cloak.
"Don't even try and run," Roberc said and spoke once more in the creature's tongue.
When he finished, he pointed at Borovazk. The hulking ranger had drawn his bow and now aimed a sharp-tipped arrow at Yurz.