Prototype's Gate

Astarion, leading the group , raised his hand to signal everyone to halt. The cave was dark, filled with the muffled sounds of skittering legs and dripping water, every noise amplified in the tension that had settled over them like a shroud. Astarion slipped behind a boulder, his movements fluid and almost predatory, then pointed silently toward two towering stone columns up ahead.

There, suspended on a web bridge between two massive columns, was a spider the size of a tank. Its grotesque form was similar to the smaller spiders they had faced before, but with a chilling difference—its eyes glowed an ominous red, and a distinct pattern resembling a crimson skull marked its back.

"That’s their queen," Tav whispered, his voice barely audible, yet it carried the weight of dread.

"That’s a big fucking spider," Karlach muttered, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight. The creature was a monstrous nightmare come to life.

Astarion pointed to the web bridge the queen was traversing. "We can hit her with a Fire Bolt while she’s on that bridge. It won’t kill her, but it’ll send her crashing down, and then we can finish her off together," he explained, his voice steady and confident. "But the real problem are those." He pointed downward.

The group followed his gaze, looking down to see what he was indicating. A few meters below, phase spiders patrolled the area around a gaping hole that emitted an eerie green light, casting sickly shadows across the cavern floor.

There was a brief silence as everyone processed Astarion’s strategic insight. They hadn’t expected such tactical thinking from him.

"What, did you think I’m just handsome?" Astarion quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’d like to inform you all that I’m at least as smart as I am good-looking."

Tav couldn’t help but roll his eyes, but there was a hint of respect in his tone as he addressed the group. "We’ll try to drop the spider queen first, just like Astarion suggested. Once she’s down, Astarion can lure the rest of the spiders with a minor illusion. I’ll hit them with a fireball when they’re clustered together. Karlach, Alex—you’ll engage them up close while Astarion supports Shadowheart. I will cast invisibility on both of them , they will circle around and hit the queen while she is distracted."

Shadowheart nodded resolutely, her face a mask of determination. "I can do that," she affirmed, her voice steady.

"Everyone get into position," Tav instructed, his tone brokering no argument.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at Tav, a hint of mock indignation in his voice. "Why don’t you ask me? Maybe I can’t do it."

Tav shot him a dry look. "I know you’re capable enough."

Astarion blinked, clearly taken aback by the rare compliment. "...Thanks," he muttered, the surprise evident in his voice.

With the plan set, Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Alex carefully climbed down using some spider webs and vines as a improvised ladder positioning themselves close to where the spider queen would fall. Tav stayed behind on the higher ground, ready to unleash his spells from a safe vantage point.

Astarion moved with a practiced stealth, casting a Minor Illusion as he did. A small, translucent cat appeared near the patrolling spiders, its innocent meowing echoing eerily through the cavern. The effect was immediate. The spiders, drawn by the sound, rushed toward it, their grotesque forms scuttling over the rough stone. Even the spider queen paused on her web bridge, her red eyes gleaming as she peered down at the commotion.

Seizing the moment, Astarion quickly cast Fire Bolt. The fiery blast struck the web bridge, burning through the thick silk strands with a hiss. The spider queen let out a shriek of surprise as the bridge collapsed beneath her, sending her plummeting to the ground below, crashing onto her smaller offspring with a sickening thud.

Tav was ready. With a focused gesture, he hurled a fireball into the writhing mass of spiders. This time, the fireball was brighter, hotter, a ball of pure destruction. The explosion was devastating, incinerating most of the brood in an instant. The few that survived were severely burned, their exoskeletons cracked and smoking. Whatever Tav had done to amplify the spell had worked; the devastation was near total.

Karlach and Alex didn’t hesitate. They charged into the fray, weapons ready to finish off the remaining spiders. But the queen, though badly injured, was not done yet. She unleashed a bone-rattling screech that echoed through the cavern, causing everyone to wince. Her cry was a summons, and the response was immediate. The eggs surrounding her burst open, and dozens of small, blue spiders emerged, joining their larger kin in a frenzied attack.

As the smaller spiders swarmed toward Karlach and Alex, Astarion and Shadowheart made their move. They become invisible, vanishing from sight as they stealthily maneuvered around the chaos, heading straight for the spider queen. The invisibility faded just as they reached their target. They exchanged a quick, determined glance.

Astarion was the first to strike, his dagger held in a reverse grip as he plunged it into the queen’s abdomen. At the same moment, Shadowheart thrust her hand forward, dark, putrid energy swirling around her fingers as she cast Inflict Wounds. The spell connected, and the queen let out an agonized scream as her flesh began to rot and decay from within.

But the queen was not done fighting. She phased out of existence, reappearing directly behind Astarion and Shadowheart, her massive fangs bared and ready to strike. Just as she lunged, another fireball from Tav crashed into her already damaged abdomen. The impact was devastating. The spider queen wobbled, her legs buckling beneath her as she finally collapsed, her monstrous form crashing to the ground with a final, shuddering death rattle.

Both Astarion and Shadowheart breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in their bodies easing as they watched the queen’s lifeless body slump to the floor.

"Guys, a little help here!" Karlach’s voice cut through the moment, her tone strained as she grappled with a spider attempting to bite her face.

Astarion and Shadowheart rushed to her aid, Tav providing covering fire with blasts of Fire Bolt and Ray of Frost. The battle was fierce but short-lived; soon, Shadowheart delivered a crushing blow with her flail, bashing the last spider’s head in with a satisfying crunch.

"Ugh, spider blood," Astarion muttered in disgust, shaking his boot in an attempt to rid himself of the sticky mess.

"Good job, everyone," Tav called out from his perch above, his voice echoing through the cavern.

"I fucking hate spiders," Karlach growled as she slumped onto a nearby rock, catching her breath.

While Karlach rested, Alex and Shadowheart began searching the area for any valuable loot. Tav carefully climbed down to join them, his eyes scanning the cavern for anything unusual. It didn’t take long for Shadowheart to find something—an oddly shaped, purple crystal ball. It shimmered with the same eerie luster as the eyes of the cursed book they had found in the cellar.

As she stood to show the others what she had found, the air suddenly grew colder, a sense of dread washing over the group. Before anyone could react, the spider queen, thought to be dead, phased back into existence right next to Shadowheart, her massive fangs aimed directly at her head.

Time seemed to slow as the queen lunged, her deadly fangs inches from Shadowheart’s face. But Alex was quicker. He rammed into the spider queen, knocking her off course. But in a terrifying twist of fate, the queen managed to phase out once more, taking Alex with her as they both vanished and reappeared over the gaping, glowing hole.

Everyone watched in horror as Alex and the spider plummeted into the abyss, their cries of alarm echoing in the cavern. Helpless to intervene, the group could only stare, their hearts pounding as their companion disappeared from sight.

...

As he fell, Alex glanced up, catching a final glimpse of his companions stricken faces, their expressions etched with shock and fear. The almost-dead spider still thrashed around, trying to get rid of Ahim, but he was holding on so tightly that the exoskeleton started to crack.

The darkness swallowed them both as they fell deeper into the abyss, the opening above becoming a distant pinprick of light. Alex’s arms shifted, transforming into sharp, clawed talons that tore into the spider’s exoskeleton, causing her to screech in pain.

Flesh tendrils erupted from Alex’s back and arms, writhing like serpents as they latched onto the spider’s flesh. The queen thrashed even harder, her movements frantic as she tried to free herself, but it was futile. Alex’s tendrils burrowed deeper, consuming her from within, feeding on her life force. In moments, the massive spider queen was reduced to nothing , her remains disintegrating in Alex’s grasp.

But the fall continued. With the queen gone, Alex’s body plummeted faster, the ground rapidly approaching. Leathery wings sprouted from his back, spreading wide to slow his descent. He focused, shifting his mass, making himself as light ,

“So, this is the Underdark,” Alex muttered, his voice tinged with awe as he surveyed the alien landscape before him. Towering mushrooms sprouted from the rocky ground, their caps glowing in a spectral array of colors, casting an eerie light that barely cut through the dense shadows. The terrain was a labyrinth of twisting stone paths that snaked up and down, creating a maze of ledges and chasms. Even with his enhanced senses, Alex found it difficult to see very far. The dim light from the bioluminescent fungi was insufficient, leaving vast expanses of the cavern shrouded in darkness.

This was why he had let himself fall so deep into the earth. He had found a journal on a skeleton in a cave above—a journal that speculated the hole he fell into led directly to the Underdark. The unfortunate soul who had written the journal had been fleeing spiders, desperate enough to attempt the leap into the unknown with a scroll of Feather Fall clutched in his hand. But he had been too slow, and the spiders had claimed his life before he could escape.

Suddenly, the ground beneath Alex's feet trembled, a deep rumble that reverberated through the cavern walls. It was over as quickly as it began, but it left Alex on edge, his senses heightened as he began to move cautiously through this strange, subterranean ecosystem.

He hadn't gone far when he felt something—a presence. Instinctively, he ducked behind a rocky outcrop just in time to see a massive creature lumbering by. It looked like a cross between a bull and a man—a minotaur—its muscled frame holding a double-headed axe that looked capable of cleaving through stone. The beast seemed to be heading toward something up ahead. Curious and cautious, Alex decided to follow at a distance.

The minotaur led him to what appeared to be the ruins of an outpost. Wooden spiked barricades, now broken and rotting, lined the perimeter, and skeletons lay scattered across the ground, grim reminders of a long-forgotten battle. The minotaur ignored the remains as it approached a set of stone stairs leading to a massive, grated gate. On either side of the gate stood statues of a woman, each holding a staff with silvery discs that hovered around a glowing crystal.

The minotaur, oblivious to the danger, took a stance, pawing the ground with its hooves before charging at full speed. It never made it to the gate. The crystals flared to life, releasing a barrage of glowing orbs that seared the minotaur’s flesh, reducing the massive creature to a smoking heap of charred muscle and bone.

Alex scanned the area, ensuring no other threats lurked nearby before dashing toward the gate. As his foot touched the first stone tile, he activated the ability he had gained from consuming the phase spider queen. His form flickered, phasing out of existence. In this shadowy dimension, everything around him turned to shades of black and white, and he floated silently over the gate, landing on a wooden platform. Phasing back into existence, he noticed a skeleton clutching a book. He picked it up and began to read the notes left behind by another unlucky soul.

"This place is dark, but the Lady's Light shines yet. Just as the drow had almost broken through, Jarrus rallied the last of the initiates and charged forth. For a moment, the cavern shone with Selûne's own brilliance.

I'd have gladly gone with them, wound or no, but Jarrus bade me stay and hold the gate until his return. I am to keep the records, too - I'll save space to write of his victory."

"Days have passed (or perhaps mere hours?). We collapsed the tunnel to stop the drow, but they were supposed to return after the battle. I can't dig out the tunnel on my own."

"My eyes won’t adjust to this darkness, but I can hear them—those who survive—stripping the dead. I’m sorry. I haven’t learned the death rites yet, but I will hold the gate. I promise."

The final entry was barely legible, more like faint scratches on the parchment than words. But it was enough to piece together what had happened here. Alex’s suspicion was confirmed when he noticed a tattered banner nearby, emblazoned with a pair of silvery eyes and seven stars—the symbol of Selûne.

“This was a Selunite outpost, abandoned after its defenders fell,” Alex murmured, his voice echoing in the silence. As he looked down, something caught his eye—a silvery key, half-buried in the dirt. Despite the grime, it still gleamed with a faint luster. He pocketed the key, as it might come in handy later.

Scanning the area, Alex’s gaze settled on a tall statue of a woman holding a scepter, the gem at its head glowing with a strong bluish-white light. A thin thread of light connected the statue to the gate at the front of the outpost.

“That must be what’s powering the gate’s defenses,” Alex reasoned. He jumped down from the wall, landing near a lever to his left. When he pulled it, the gate creaked open. Alex took cover, expecting the statue to attack, but when nothing happened, he cautiously moved forward, inching closer to the gate. Once he was sure it was safe, he approached the minotaur’s lifeless body and began to consume it, absorbing its strength and memories.

Deciding to be cautious, he pulled the lever again, watching as the gate closed . Turning around, he noticed a wooden raft piled with simple weapons and scattered crates filled with armor and other supplies. It struck him as odd.

“Why leave all these supplies behind?” Alex wondered aloud. In war, supplies were often as valuable as the victory itself. Then he spotted another journal near the statue, its title catching his eye: In Search of the Nightsong.

In Search of the Nightsong

"Fascinating that such a seemingly valuable object has proven so difficult to track down. Indeed, treasure-hunters the realm over have traveled to the Sword Coast with one goal in mind: to find the Nightsong. Yet, one by one, they have failed, encountering dead ends, rebuffs, or else disappearing altogether.

My latest inquiry was with a half-orc named Graly, who insisted he’d come as close as possible to the relic as one may go without forfeiting his or her life. He indicated that the object is not, as most reports suggest, in the Selunite fort adjacent to the river Chionthar. It is, in fact, held in an old Sharran fortress somewhere in the environs of Moonrise Towers. However, Graly reported that some kind of potent shadow prevents one from approaching where this fortress might be."

“Interesting, but useless,” Alex muttered, tossing the journal aside. As he moved forward, he noticed an engraving on a nearby wall—blue eyes with golden and silver eyelids, surrounded by seven silver stars. Despite the layers of dirt and dust, the engraving seemed to shimmer as if it had just been cleaned. Alex felt an unexpected wave of calm wash over him as he stared at it, but he quickly shook off the feeling and continued exploring.

In a room to his left, he found two faded logbooks on a pair of tables. He picked one up and began to read.

Logbook Entries:

Log 182: "I was wrong. I should have paid more attention to the drow sightings. I should have known they were only a prelude. Stupid to think we had outsmarted them. This will be my last entry. Mynthe will keep the records from now on."

Log 124: "Signs of life near the outpost. Intelligent. Clearly trying to hide."

Log 125: "Still can't find the mysterious shapes. They know how to cover their tracks. Possibly drow."

[The next few entries were too faded to read.]

Log 129: "Led them south. Rumors of a spectator there. Let the Underdark solve its own problems."

Log 130: "No sightings."

Log 131: "No sightings."

Log 132: "Mynthe saw statues down south, shaped like drow. Spectators shouldn't do that. Either way, that's one less problem to worry about."

Alex set the logbook down, the weight of the final entries sinking in. The despair and futility of the outpost’s last defenders were almost tangible, even in the faded ink. It was clear they had been fighting a losing battle against the drow, their situation growing more dire with each passing day. The mention of statues shaped like drow and a spectator—an aberration with a deadly gaze—piqued Alex’s interest.

Though disappointed by the lack of immediately useful information, Alex was still grateful for the leads he had found. He moved toward the opposite side of the room, peering through a window with iron bars that had been ripped from the stone wall. A few meters ahead, he could see statues of drow in various poses, just as the logbook had described. But before venturing outside, he decided to explore further.

Ascending a set of stairs, Alex found two sets of iron bars, one on his left and one on his right. The gate on the right was open, revealing nothing of interest inside. The gate on the left was locked. Alex retrieved the key he had found earlier, inserting it into the lock and twisting it open. Inside, on a stone pedestal, sat an opulent chest. It didn’t open with the key, so Alex used his tendrils to manipulate the lock, eventually prying it open to reveal a silvery helmet.

“This seems magical,” Alex noted, inspecting the helmet. “A shame I don’t know what it does,” he added, placing it back inside.

He turned to leave, but something caught his eye—a brick in the wall, smoother than the others. Pressing it, the brick slid into the wall, revealing a hidden room with two more chests. The first chest contained two potions—one red, the other white. Alex tasted a drop from each. The red potion had a healing effect, while the white one was a powerful stimulant, both radiating an unfamiliar energy.

“Interesting,” Alex remarked, closing the chest.

The second chest, however, held a nasty surprise. A small bomb was rigged to the lock and lid. With careful precision, Alex disarmed the trap using his tendrils. Opening the chest, he found it empty.

“A prank?” Alex muttered, unamused. He rummaged through the crates nearby, finding nothing but old clothes, rusted armor, weapons, and rotten food.

Returning to the main hall, Alex moved toward a small Selûne altar. The altar bore the familiar symbol of silvery eyes and stars, and beside it was a very long wooden ladder that seemed to lead to the surface.

“Now that I have a way out, I should check what’s the deal with those drow statues outside,” Alex mused, “but I already have a hunch.”

He grabbed an empty crate, carried it outside through the broken window, and tossed it toward a drow statue at the edge of the stone plateau. Quickly taking cover, he watched as a spectator materialized, its many eyes scanning the area for the source of the disturbance. It had four eyestalks, with two located on either side of the upper half of the body. The spectator's skin was thick, lumpy, and rubbery, with numerous blood vessels visible on the surface it dark purple color helping it camouflages in the shadow. It had a single main eye in the middle of it floating body.

Alex held his breath, staying hidden as the spectator’s gaze swept over his hiding spot. The creature lingered for a moment before slowly retreating back into the shadows.

Now that Alex knew where the spectator was, he faced another problem. He knew very little about these creatures, only that their gaze was deadly. The limited information he had accumulated from pointed that when faced with a spectator, you either ran as fast as your legs could carry you or prayed to your gods because you were already dead.

“When you don’t know what you’re fighting against, use overwhelming force,” Alex thought, recalling a lesson from Blackwatch training. It was time to put that knowledge to use.