103 Monolith - Earth Spirit’s Lair
For a long period druid has already felt some monotonous shocks from the ground, wandering
the wastelands. It was a sun-scorched part of the continent, where on the one hand the flow of
foam covered the ferocious waves of the sea and on the other human territories began. The
enchanted forest was left behind in the south.
Wasteland belonged to no one, and who would need it? No fertile land or minerals - only sands.
Moreover for centuries it harbored serpent people and other nasty green-skins in its bosom.
It was not of ordinary, as everywhere, orange and sand colors, but dark and grey shades. Some
say that a young forest grew here previously, carefully planted by dryads from the south, but by
strange reasons the soil became dry and uninhabitable extensive land.
Some time wandering here by unknown paths the druid came upon an attractive trail. It turned
up out from beneath, as sensed before, but more obvious now. Flat hills were replaced firstly by
deep gorges and later by small mountains.
He understood - this was the hunting grounds of the earth spirit. And by that mean his path
would lie underneath. He desperately wanted to avoid this circumstance, but his duty pushed
him forward into the holy holies.
Having reached another crevice, he stopped to examine it - full of tunnels and small passages.
The numerous portholes on the sheer indicated that here one moved not only horizontally.
Entering the cave druid for next several minutes, tried hardly to adjust his vision to darkness,
that wandered here forever, not like up above - the sun just reminded about itself throughout
the narrow slits.
He rambled for about an hour without any luck, being alert and suspecting something wrong
behind every corner, all in vain. But as he tried to relax a bit - a huge beast appeared from the
ground beneath, baring a few rows of fangs, and certainly sharp.
The wild shouts rang out some tiers below.
It was a basilisk. Scaled and very long. He blew pompously throughout his nostrils curls and by
the great surprise - burrowed back into the ground. Not even an eye to blink, though how he
could in such a spectacle.
Druid knew that this was some kind of an invitation to the banquet being the main course. And
also knew where to go to capture him.
Shouts done obviously not by the basilisk came closer with every step, permeated throughout
the cave and tensed the situation. Now he was not only tracing the basilisk, but he was hunted too.
As turned out later these caves swarm with various primitive races, but more beasts. Goblins,
ogres and snakemen. Especially the last will be glad to defend their master.
The main thing is not to lose vigilance and keep the shadows, especially to mask traces in what
nature helps him tirelessly.
But of course when you bash head-on with a dark-green snout, no stealth will help - you have
to accept a battle, nothing else. And the victory is not on the green-skin’s side.
A battle party of goblins has slipped right in front of him, having no interest to the druid that
looked like a protruding root and lichen. At least this time there was no fight.
The subsequent rally among a succession of moves led him to the obvious place for an ambush,
and he just stuck to the nearest wall, as the previous location burst out with a basilisk. Druid did
not wait - attacked him first - carefully, so not to destroy the spirit, but demonstrating his power.
A strange spirit that is - fled again. What is going on here?
The search proceeded. Again and again. The endless tunnels fighting along the hordes of
aggressive and anxious. Battle after battle now grew more into a non-stop show, rather than
a basilisk chase. Continuous retreat forward up to the unknown.
A warm flow of wind pierced the body, and with it the sound of the water, then most likely the
underground lake laid somewhere near, and thus, a less room to surround the druid.
With “to surround”, he was right... but the lake was at least in a mile below.
He was deadlocked by a small piece of ground where a long natural bridge had its start. It merged
together two cave ends. There were some other bridges upwards and downwards but smaller
than this one. Seldom heighted stalactites lazily dropped water below and merged into one another.
The basilisk already awaited the druid on the other side of the bridge, relentlessly clacking his beak,
inviting to his stomach. And the green-skins will soon be upon him and will try to edge out, even
ogres came here. That it happened.
Nothing else left but give a fight on the bridge. Battle on two fronts. The war drums thundered
and crappy goblin weapons squealed - the battle began. One after another snakemen and goblins
fell of the bridge, only they could reach the druid. The basilisk only tried to catch him with his tail,
nothing more.
Having won more than half a way, the druid ruined the nearest beginning of the bridge, displacing
him farther against the primitives. The bridge wasn’t damaged too much, but the flow of the horde
decreased tenfold, now they had to jump across and that was not always successful. This maneuver
helped not only the druid but the basilisk. He used the moment to strike the human by his slippery
tail - to let him dodge, but only once.
A fall down…