Lyllywen led the party through the dark tunnel, her small, hooded lantern providing enough light to navigate the inky blackness. The party followed in their usual marching formation, with the dwarf and the paladin close behind the princess. The group came to a halt as a large iron door blocked their passage. The party coalesced around the portal, and the princess began to speak. But Liligar ignored most of what the princess was saying– something about her connection with her sister. Liligar’s attention instead was focused on the walls around the door. His halfling instinct for secret doors and passages had been tingling for a couple rounds, and he knew better than to dismiss the feeling.

As he pressed and prodded the worked stone, Liligar heard the murmuring of voices that usually indicated that the half-orc was not getting his way, but the thief was not distraught at the delay. It gave him more time to find the entrance that the halfling was sure existed somewhere in this rock corridor. Over cold stone after cold stone, the thief moved his trained fingers. On the lower part of left wall, about two feet above the surface, Liligar’s ring finger found the catch. He slid his digit into the small crack and flipped it. Much to the rest of the party’s amazement, the wall slid back and a well-groomed stone tunnel appeared.

The thief felt Imlari run by him into the darkness. Liligar sighed, knowing that headlong charges into secret passages were not the most successful way to succeed in dungeon adventurer, but he also knew that the barbarian was a barbarian and he couldn’t expect much else. The halfling heard rather than saw Imlari speed down the tunnel, his footfalls growing fainter and fainter. Dorengar and Rodericke also pushed the halfling aside as they followed the barbarian into the blackness. Liligar slowly worked his way towards the rear of the party, falling in beside Drogan. Despite the half-orc’s profession, the halfling had found him an agreeable adventuring companion and knew that the assassin and he would make similar decisions about fighting and fleeing.

From the blackness, the halfling heard shouting, scraping, and the jingle of armor indicative of combat. He, Drogan, and Treilor increased their pace and moved towards the sound. After about twenty paces, the tunnel widened and sloped downward. Keeping a firm grip on his short sword, Liligar cautiously maneuvered into the sloped room where he was greeted with the sights of battle. Imlari lay in a heap on the floor, a puddle of blood slowly growing around his motionless corpse. The dwarf was an immobilized statue, a victim of the basilisk’s gaze. The paladin and the ranger were engaged in hand-to-claw combat with the giant reptile; both looking at the floor to avoid the beast’s eyes. Karyn and Crandorth waited outside of the room, the cleric deep in prayer and the druid beginning a series of gestures.

The assassin and the magic-user also began their combat actions. Drogan loaded his crossbow and began to fire bolts into the monster while Treilor began the recitation of hold monster. She had learned the spell about a year ago but never had a chance to try it out. That is, until now. She ran through the complicated hand motions while holding onto the metal bar she had fashioned in Relmor Bay long before. Right before she completed the incantation, the basilisk expelled a cloud of poison, dropping both the ranger and the paladin. As their bodies hit the floor, the magic-user cast the spell.

Slizz’th felt her body stiffen; she could think, she could plan, but she could not move. The four bodies that surrounded the basilisk were testament to her power. But not even her monstrous vitality could overcome the powerful enchantment. Limbs strong enough to topple trees remained stationary; claws sharp enough to cut stone remained motionless. Slizz’th’s mind raced as she tried to construct a plan that would get her out of this. She had worked too hard and schemed too much to let this bunch of ne’er-do-wells ruin her plans.

Drogan was not one to let opportunities pass. As soon as he saw that the basilisk was held, he skirted down the incline and stopped about ten paces from the immobilized monster. He gingerly moved around until he was roughly parallel with Slizz’th’s motionless head. Knowing that the basilisk’s eyes could still stone him, the assassin stopped right before he could see directly into the reddened orbs. He cocked the crossbow, moved it to his shoulder, took his customary breath, and pulled the trigger. The bolt flew true and punctured Slizz’th’s eye. The assassin then moved to the other side of the monster and repeated his work. Granted, blinding a held monster is not a noble act, but no one had ever accused Drogan of being noble. He then drew his long sword, boldly approached the sightless basilisk, and cut its throat in one move.

The halfling watched all this from his safe perch above the battle. When the basilisk’s blood began to join the barbarian’s on the floor, Liligar clapped his hands, drew out his bag, and went into the room to collect his share of the loot. After all, he had found the secret door.