Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [50]
The party crawled single file through the booby-trapped chamber and made it to the other side safely. Corran started to speak, but Kestrel hushed him as she examined the steps for more unpleasant dwarven surprises. Though he bristled under the rebuke, the paladin held his tongue. She cast a discerning gaze at each tread and riser, running her fingers along the cold, smooth stone. Though she found no evidence of additional traps, her sensitive ears detected a faint shuffling sound above.
“Wait here,” she advised the others. She silently crept up the stairs, stopping before she reached the top. From this vantage point, she could peer over the second-story floor and see most of the room while remaining hidden in the stairwell.
This level of the tower comprised a single room with shelves full of scrolls. Wooden cases similar to wine racks lined the wall, with each diamond-shaped opening holding its own roll of paper. The documents merited only a cursory glance, however-it was the dozen or so orogs in the chamber that arrested her attention. They occupied the center of the room, effectively blocking the stairs to the third story. The humanoids stood in perfect formation, their eyes blankly staring straight ahead. She studied the unit for a leader but didn’t discern one.
A fly buzzed past Kestrel’s ear, landing on her forearm. She brushed it off, but the pesky thing buzzed around her face again. “Shoo!” she whispered, batting it aside. The fly finally got the message and sped off to bother someone else.
She observed the orogs for a few minutes longer. The guards stood so still they didn’t seem to breathe. They merely gripped their short swords, ready for combat. As she watched, the fly that had irritated her flew into the midst of the orogs and landed on one humanoid’s snout, where it proceeded to dance around the creature’s nostrils. Just watching the insect made Kestrel’s own nose itch, but the orog didn’t so much as flinch. He continued to stare straight ahead.
Kestrel returned to the group. In a hushed voice, she reported what she’d seen.
“Maybe we can parley with them as we did with those other orogs guarding the cult sorcerer.” Jarial glanced up the stairs. “Do you think they would be willing to talk?”
“I’m not even sure they’re alive,” Kestrel responded. “I mean, the whole thing with the fly-”
“They might be under the influence of a charm,” Ghleanna said. “Or in a state of suspended animation.”
Corran rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his fingers stroking the rough stubble of the past three days. “If that’s the case, can we figure out a way around them? We need to reserve as much of our strength and resources as possible for the cultists in the Room of Words.”
“You all think too much.” Durwyn grabbed his bow and nocked an arrow. “We waste time. We can handle a dozen orogs.” He mounted the stairs.
Kestrel stared after him, surprised by his assertiveness. “Wait for me!”
The others followed close behind. As soon as Durwyn rose high enough in the stairwell to sight the orogs, he stopped and let the arrow fly. Another shaft quickly followed. Both arrows found their targets, felling a pair of humanoids.
The rest of the orogs started forward. Kestrel maneuvered around Durwyn and hurled her twin daggers at two of the creatures. Behind her, she heard Ghleanna utter the words of a spell.
Kestrel’s first dagger struck an orog in the throat. He sank to his knees, then slumped over. Her second dagger, thrown with her right hand, hit its victim in the side. Though the blade had buried itself in his flesh, the creature’s face didn’t register the slightest discomfort. He continued his advance as if nothing had happened.
Ghleanna’s incantation also had no effect. “These are no ordinary orogs,” the sorceress said. “That spell should have put two of them to sleep.”
The orogs closed in. Their movements lacked fluidity. Though they moved quickly, they jerked and lurched, as if they were marionettes on