Ride Sustarre’s Chariot
Crandorth lit the small branches that he gathered immediately after the troll-lead ogre ambush surrounded the party. He knew that he was in no immediate danger–the fighters and the assassin were seeing to that–but he also knew that where there are two trolls, there are usually four trolls. And four trolls could be danger. And if those four trolls knew four other trolls, then . . .
The branches caught fire and Crandorth began the invocation. In one hand, he held a small splinter of wood; in the other, he held his mistletoe. He brought them together and began to weave the mistletoe around the splinter. As he did this, he began his prayers. “Oh powerful Obad-Hai, look favorably on thy humble wood servant. Obad-Hai, master of the forests, celestial hunter, he who provides, I ask for thy servant Sustarre; fair Sustarre, whose heat warms the winters and whose protection I seek.” The fire grew brighter as the druid continued with the ritual.
Crandorth put the wood on the ground; he then knelt and placed two holly berries next to the splinter. He stood up and walked over to the fire, grabbing one of the burning branches. He swung the brand over his head and smashed it onto the berries and wood. Sparks flew in all directions, and a smoke filled the air. The druid whirled the burning branch around and around and then threw it. As the branch hurled through the air, there was a frightening clap, and in place of the fiery wood was Sustarre’s chariot.
Crandorth motioned to the chariot steeds, who flew down at the command of druid’s hand. Flames burned out of the chariot and its wheels; the trolls and ogres stood in amazement at the appearance of the magical transportation. Liligar and Karyn moved quickly over and jumped inside. The halfling had never ridden in a chariot pulled by fiery steeds, and this seemed as good of time as any. Soon they were joined by the half-elf. The paladin, barbarian, ranger, fighter, and assassin continued to hold the six ogres and two trolls at bay. But there seemed no way for the group to both fight and fly away.
Crandorth knew he needed to do something when he saw three more trolls and a half dozen more ogres come into the cave. He whipped the reins lightly on the back of the flaming horses, directing the chariot towards the battle. He stopped about ten feet behind the combat; the druid was close enough to hear the curses of the wounded and dying ogres. He waited a moment and then whipped the horses again, this time hard. The chariot bolted forward, directly into the melee’. Drogan heard the rolling wheels, spun quickly, sliced an ogre’s knee, and then dove into the opened door. The barbarian was next, leaping over a swiping troll, and into the waiting hands of his companions.
The trolls tried to attack the chariot, but its burning flames kept them at bay as the remaining three party members slashed their way back to safety. The ogres began to look on the ground for rocks to throw from relative safety. Once everyone was seated, Crandorth gave the reins another firm snap and cried “Away and up.”
The magical chariot met the ceiling of the cave with incredible force, smashing a large crack in the roof. Rocks rained down on the trolls, the ogres, and the party. Crandorth felt the chariot shudder; he then heard a tremendous roar as the entire cavern gave way.
Crushed under the cavern rocks, you die. The adventure ends.