RAVEN'S GAMBIT

The dead were buried with reverence. Each name spoken, each stone placed, another reminder of what had been sacrificed in the mountain’s cruel halls. The wounded lay bandaged, the exhausted finally allowed to sleep. Raven, from his perch in the Citadel of Twilight Winds, looked down upon the survivors. Only 31 remained of the original 69 champions he had summoned. His breath stirred the clouds, his wings curled around the looming spires.

Would they be enough?

At first light, the remaining warriors stirred from their rest. With grim resolve, they returned once more to the haunted passageways of White Plume Mountain.

They passed again through the flooded chambers where allies had died—where a sea hag and the great beast Uchuulon had been slain. Rangers led the way, discovering a submerged path that clung to the western wall. Though one stretch of it was broken, the survivors either leapt the short gap or swam across.

They regrouped at the stairs and climbed, emerging into a corridor that stretched north. A door lay immediately to their right.

Hachiro Noboru opened it. The air shifted as they passed through, and the passage stretched forward before narrowing into a strange, cylindrical tunnel.

It was spinning. Slowly, hypnotically. The interior gleamed with some slick, oily substance, and just beyond, another room shimmered faintly in the shadows.

Kael 'Fingers' Vire inspected the strange tunnel carefully, then turned with a shrug. “No traps… but it’s clearly meant to stop us. Slippery and spinning—meant to humiliate or maim.”

Without waiting, Kael tried it. He immediately slipped and tumbled to the floor. Groans echoed. Laughter, repressed. Kael finally dragged himself back and scowled. “Someone else try.”

Talia Windstep, ever graceful, slipped through with calculated steps. “Not too bad,” she called. Lira Valesong cast a light spell on her rapier and followed.

“There’s a door to the north,” Lira called out after stepping across. Kale 'Whisper' Stronemarch offered to follow. He handed his torch to Thog Skullsplitter.

“Careful,” the half-orc said, sniffing. “Smells flammable.”

Kale crept across. A glimmer in the east wall caught Lira’s eye.

“GET OUT!” she screamed—

A flaming arrow streaked from a hidden slit and slammed into the tunnel.

FOOM!

Fire roared through the spinning cylinder. Kale dove and rolled, barely avoiding serious burns. Heat blasted those on the far side, but no one else was harmed.

As the last embers died, Lira threw open the door.

Inside: a simple chamber, a candlelit table, an open tome… and shadows.

From those shadows, a warrior clad in half-plate armor and bearing a bastard sword surged toward her. The blade clanged against the doorframe as Lira dodged.

Then—shhhhhwick!—an acidic arrow streaked past Talia and sizzled against the stone.

Lira lunged, her rapier turned away by the warrior’s shield.

Kale and Talia fired arrows, both deflected.

The enemy’s sword plunged deep—Lira screamed, blood gushing from her gut.

Then, twin magic missiles zipped from the darkness. They struck Lira.

She collapsed, lifeless.

Kale loosed another shot—then more missiles screamed from the shadows. Kale died with a gasp.

The tunnel’s flames had cooled. Thog Skullsplitter barreled through. He slipped and slid across, rising to meet the enemy.

Hachiro Noboru followed, katana slicing—missed.

Thog swung, hitting solidly. The enemy grunted.

Talia fired again—but the sword cleaved her cleanly. She fell headless.

Magic missiles slammed into Thog. He growled, barely standing.

Theron Blackroot launched his Eldritch Blast. It missed.

Elowyn Mosswhisper charged with her wolf, but her scimitar missed. The wolf sank its fangs into the warrior’s calf, but he hacked the beast away.

More missiles—Elowyn reeled from the force.

Thog and Hachiro engaged again, both missing. Theron tried again—his blast finally struck true, burning through armor.

Elowyn missed again. Her wolf lunged but failed to find flesh.

Varek Duskwither slid through the tunnel on his back and stood just as the warrior swung again. Missed.

The wolf was struck down by more missiles.

Blood pooled. Chaos reigned.

Then—SCHLICK!

Thog Skullsplitter’s axe cleaved through neck and bone.

The enemy warrior collapsed, his head rolling away.

A scream tore from the chamber beyond.

Elowyn fell to her knees beside her wolf. Varek stormed ahead.

Within the next room, a robed woman stepped from the shadows—and transformed.

A werewolf.

Varek swung, missed. She clawed him.

Hachiro and Thog charged.

Theron tried to join, but slipped and slid through the tunnel once more.

Elowyn, enraged, slashed with her scimitar—no effect. The blade left no wound.

Claws raked her in return.

Hachiro cut deep—but no blood flowed. Thog’s mighty strike wounded the beast, but it still lived.

Theron’s next blast fizzled uselessly.

Elowyn stepped back and whispered a druidic incantation. Roots exploded from the ground, tangling the werewolf’s limbs.

The beast howled, trapped.

Everyone rushed in. Swords. Arrows. Blasts.

The werewolf’s cries faded.

And then, silence.

Only 28 remained.

Outside, in the Citadel above the world, Raven stood.

His claw tightened around the edge of the spire.

“Soon,” he whispered. “One way or another… it ends.”

TO BE CONTINUED...