Flights of Fantasy

Audience with Gloomfang

After arranging a watch, the party settled into the routine of sleeping on the rough ground of the cavern network. Hours passed uneventfully. Dragov drew his turn at watch and slowly blinked sleep from his eyes.

Suddenly, a flash of light erupted from the hallway that had so recently witnessed their brutal combat against the troglodytes. Shouting incoherently, Dragov sprang to his feet and rushed out into the corridor. Before him stood an enormous lizardman, fully fifteen feel tall. Its scales were coal-black, with occasional streaks of sliver and it wore simple hide clothing, although Dragov could not fathom any natural animal with so large a hide.

“Cower before Grubnub, human! Cower before the scion of the dread Gloomfang!” The lizard creature’s voice was somewhat high and thready, as though it was straining its voice, trying to impress.

“Uh, what’s a Gloomfang?” Dragov reasoned that if this creature proved hostile, at least he could try to delay its attack.

“Gloomfang is the god that rules these caverns! None can pass through them without Gloomfang’s permission! It is the will of dread Gloomfang that you grovel before him and pay him homage!”

“I don’t grovel.” Dragov had not even heard Alaith approach. The silent and dour elf already had his wicked axe drawn and looked to be sizing up the lizard.

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