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Monday, December 7

Isles of the Damned: Part 5e – R’lyeh

They reached a circular room at the top of the stairs. An enormous pit was in the middle and a creepy, expressionist sculpture at the other end.

Vlad wiped ichor off of Grungronazharr. “Those were some big scorpions.”

Beldin beat his chest. An ugly purple wound bulged from one of his forearms. “Dwarves don’t poison easy.”

On the other side of the hole sat what appeared to be a grotesque sculpture of black iron, a collection of limbs twined horribly and grasping at the air with long, wicked claws. Forming a backdrop for the misshapen array were a pair of wings, torn and broken but still spanning over a hundred feet. Between them, hanging monstrously below the ribcage on a serpentine iron neck, was a face. It was a bare black skull with six long tentacles in place of its maw. Burned into the forehead of the villainous visage were five stars.

“There he lies,” said Harry. “The wicked one himself!”

“Leviathan, you mean?” asked Vlad.

Harry nodded vigorously. “Aye. Cadic flung Leviathan into this island, and then piled his cult’s ill-gotten gains atop him. When Cadic ripped the island out of Arcanis and set it wandering, he coated Leviathan’s body with molten metal, and he made a tower of the same. The treasure lays straight down there,” he pointed down the hole, “hundreds of feet. But beware, horrible things await anyone who tries to take the booty.”

“We don’t want the treasure,” said Sebastian. “We’re here to stop Leviathan.”

Something rustled behind the remains of Leviathan, cutting off Harry’s reply. more

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posted by Michael Tresca at 6:53 AM


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