By Abercrombie
Date: 28 August 2025
Chronicle Day: Day 152 (continued)
Abercrombie’s recollection, frae the conveyor halls tae the wyrmlings’ flame.
The Conveyor Halls
Rudy slipped ahead, quiet as a mouse in slippers.
He found a chamber filled wi’ inactive automatons —
chwarves, as we’ve taken tae callin’ them —
clockwork dwarves hangin’ from a conveyance chain, like a dry‑cleaner’s rack gone mad.
A hole in the ceiling.
A hole in the floor.
The chain ran diagonally between them.
Four automatons visible…
but Rudy reckoned twelve in total.
He returned tae us, then scouted again —
a second room, identical tae the first.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
He urged us tae follow his exact footsteps, movin’ as silently as possible.
The Alarm
Just as Rudy reached the fourth room,
a black stone in the doorway of the third chamber flashed red.
A klaxon blared —
a sound like a forge siren meetin’ a banshee.
The automatons in the third and fourth rooms activated.
Battle was joined.
Ryn, movin’ down the corridor, stepped on a pressure plate —
the second room activated as well.
Three rooms.
Three waves.
Clockwork hell.
We fought through them, gears flyin’, metal screechin’, sparks showerin’ the floor.
When the last fell, the chains advanced —
new inert automatons slid into place, ready tae awaken if triggered again.
Throsh, ever curious, found another pressure plate.
The third room activated again.
We cleared it again.
The Armoury
Beyond the conveyor halls lay an armoury —
racks of weapons, polished and waiting.
Each of us claimed a +1 weapon if we lacked one already.
A fine haul, and well earned.
Secret Doors and the Grotto
A hidden door led tae the grotto beneath the kitchen,
where the oozes and mushrooms had lurked earlier.
Rudy found a second secret door.
Kaz, in typical Kaz fashion, headbutted it open.
A corridor stretched beyond.
The Wyrmlings
Sergei scouted ahead.
Two juvenile red dragons — wyrmlings —
each the size of Sergei himself, prowled the chamber.
He wisely chose not tae provoke them.
He found a bronze bull ring, flipped through the bestiary,
and held up two fingers tae indicate the number of dragons.
We backtracked tae the bronze bull head.
The Door Mimic
We affixed the ring.
The bull head snapped back —
eyes glowing red,
snout widening into a toothy maw.
It toppled forward onto Sergei and Ryn.
A door mimic grappled them both —
stone‑flesh, tendrils, and teeth everywhere.
- Flying Death struck true twice
- Sergei pummeled the creature
- Throsh whispered dissonant horrors, but the mimic barely flinched
- It bit Sergei and clawed Ryn, drawing blood
- Kaz vaulted over all three — Sergei, Ryn, and the mimic —
was immediately grappled, took a heavy hit…
and landed the killing blow
The mimic slumped, dead at last.
The Antechamber and the Runes
We entered an antechamber, a 10‑foot‑wide door on the far wall.
Ryn enchanted two spears from the armoury:
one with the Cold rune,
one with Acid.
Kaz and Sergei, free of the mimic’s grasp, opened the door.
Twin bursts of flame roared out.
The heat is on.
Battle with the Wyrmlings
Kaz hurled a trident, hoping tae knock one from the air.
Flying Death struck once — but only once.
Sergei attempted a parkour leap off Ryn and the wall —
slipped —
fell —
and somehow still landed his attack.
Throsh cast Haste on Kaz.
The nearest dragon tried tae tear Sergei apart.
Rudy hurled daggers —
one struck,
a second struck well,
a third struck hard.
Ryn slapped Sergei with a semi‑closed fist —
a dwarven blessing o’ sorts —
granting him a boost tae his next jump.
The dragon clawed Kaz, who retaliated in kind.
Kaz then howled, activating the gift he’d earned in the arena,
and in that moment he interpreted Sergei’s intent, urging him tae leap.
The wyrmling, confused by the sudden battle‑cry, shrieked back in frustration.
Flying Death struck again —
once —
my aim slightly off.
Sergei leapt, uppercutting the dragon on the way up,
and hammering it on the way down.
Throsh cast again.
I loosed a bolt as the dragon swooped —
and downed the beast.
Ryn fired his bollocks;
the other wyrmling fled down the stairs at the far end of the chamber.
Retreat and Rest
We retreated tae the kitchen.
Throsh cast Tiny Hut.
We dragged the slain wyrmling inside and sealed the room.
Before bedding down,
I carefully skinned the dragon, preparing the hide for field tanning.
A fine trophy, and finer leather.
We closed the trapdoor and barricaded the only other exit.
The hut shimmered around us, warm and safe.
A long day behind us.
A longer one ahead.
