As might be expected, we barricaded the room as best we could, and headed upstairs with our guest to report to the Captain. He was, perhaps understandably, not happy with the news. “I send you to go get the quartermaster out of getting drunk and you find an invasion plot?” Honestly, I would rather have found Brother Maylen alive. Captain Moran was not exactly pleased - but it wasn't as if we didn't have proof - rat bites, rat corpses, and an elf who very clearly wasn't supposed to turn up in the basement of a presumedly secure keep. After we had delivered our report (and Vash) we were dismissed to the shrine of Pelor to tend to our injuries, and he went about the business of dispatching soldiers to secure the basement, and to bring Vash to Lady Amara to report matters.
We had a few minutes to catch our breath before Sammeas ducked in - one of our fellow guards, who we'd occasionally walked the walls with - to let us know that we'd been ordered to report to Lady Amara's war room at once. As Kiendra put it, “This can't be good.” We accompanied him to the inner keep, where the Lady, the Captain, a number of other guards, and the great Sir Dekkon were already in attendance. The meeting was short, and to the point – by Pelor's guidance or by merest Fortune, we'd stumbled on something of significance, a peril that might have gone overlooked, given the timing of our fast. It was also clear that we'd have to alert the other major settlements in the region - the dwarven clan of Flintburn, who less than subtly tended to insist that they had original claim to the entire region; the dwarven clan of Grayforge, from which Kiendra hailed; the fishing village of Jefrys, from whence our keep often received supplies; and Gaion, City of Five Gates, where Vash had been exploring the ruins before things went badly south. Sir Dekkon was leading an expedition to pass the word along to our allies to alert them of this new threat, and the Lady requested that we accompany them. What could we say but yes?
As such, we were assigned to Sir Dekkon's command, and after a visit to the new quartermaster (Sister Wendolyn having taken on the responsibilities of fallen Brother Maylen) to acquire food and other supplies, we joined our party at the courtyard. There were seven of us - Sir Dekkon, of course, paladin of Pelor, guardian of the light, and so forth; myself, cleric of Pelor and your hopefully humble author; Kiendra, mighty warrior and not someone I'd wish to challenge to a drinking or wrestling match; Sammeas, fellow guardsman and merry prankster; Haran, half-elf archer and rather cute; Durn, veteran guardsman with years of experience; and Vash, the elven prisoner who had alerted us to the scope of the problem.
One thing that quickly became apparent – paladins, by and large, are known for their strict discipline, and at times, it can be a challenge to keep up. Sir Dekkon was a picture of duty, proceeding quickly apace as we set off down the cliff, carefully picking our way down to the fishing village of Jefrys. We stopped but briefly outside the reeve's residence, where Dekkon went in to pass on the word, and minutes later we were on our way to our next main destination - the caves of Flintburn. We passed the watchhouse at the crest of the road, and perhaps a half hour later came to our first obstacle. At one point along the trail, there is a chasm ten feet wide that normally is crossed by a rope bridge. I say 'normally' here, because normally said rope bridge is intact, and normally, the ropes on our side of the bridge do not appear to have been cut. It was a foreboding sign.
Sir Dekkon ordered that Haran, Sammeas, and Durn keep watch with him as the rest of us sorted out how to get the bridge back in order; this was a terribly good place for an ambush, after all. Vash managed to get a workable loop attached to one of the posts on the other side, and Kiendra volunteered to jump across with a safety rope attached to her in order to reattach the rope to the end of the bridge so that Dekkon and I could haul it up. All of this was accomplished in relative speed - but it had set us to a sense of wariness. Even 'Sir Shinypants', as Kiendra called him, was on edge – and sweating.
Perhaps it was the thinning mountain air and all of that armor; perhaps there was something else sapping his strength. Either way, Sir Dekkon had set a grueling pace to make up for the time lost dealing with the bridge, and it took a heavy toll on everyone - including himself. He was pushing himself too hard, and it showed; the moment we reached a clearing, he called for a break, and took off his helmet to breathe more easily. We stopped to get a drink, and we were tired from the forced-march time. This may explain why nobody noticed anything wrong until a green object the size of a pancake - only fatter and with long, spindly legs - practically flew out of the underbrush, biting deep into Dekkon's face before leaping off and vanishing into the grasses again before he could strike it down.
More spiders surged from the grasses - glossy black beasts and dull brown ones, a veritable horde, bodies easily larger than a fist or perhaps a child's head. Two of them swarmed at me, one sinking fangs into my leg, the other leaping at my throat and narrowly missing as I ducked aside. I heard Durn scream as one bit into his throat, and he collapsed backwards; Haran desperately flailed to try to skewer the pest that had latched onto her thigh even as she collapsed, her face already blotching from the venom. Another managed to sink its teeth into my leg as I readied my mace. After that it became a surprisingly desperate melee; Dekkon hacking and slashing at the fell critters as they threatened to overwhelm him; Sammeas rushing to strike down one of the spiders that was attempting to bring down Dekkon before himself being laid low by a venomous bite; Kiendra cutting through the pests with her axe; Vash sending bolts of crackling magic into the melee and desperately trying to keep out of reach; myself calling upon Pelor's light to strike down spiders hither and yon.