Session 12: Battle of Gracklestugh - Part 2

The harbor of Gracklestugh trembled beneath the weight of apocalyptic fury. Buildings crumbled like sandcastles as Demogorgon, the Prince of Demons himself, rose from the dark waters, his twin heads bellowing rage that shook the very foundations of the dwarven city. The ancient red dragon Thumberchaud circled overhead, scales gleaming like molten rubies in the firelight of burning structures, having burst from his den moments before to confront this otherworldly threat.

Yet the demon lord’s confusion was palpable. Though the dragon’s attacks were clearly visible—magnificent dives punctuated by snapping jaws and rending claws—other assaults seemed to come from nowhere. The wild magic that coursed through Tempest’s veins had blessed them all with invisibility, transforming the adventurers into phantoms on the battlefield.

Elora the Majestic studied the towering abomination with calculating eyes, though none could see her furrowed brow. The entangling vines she had considered would be useless in the water, and even if they could reach, what earthly plants could hope to restrain such a monstrosity? Instead, she wove her druidic power into something more primal—a sphere of roiling flame that materialized seemingly from nothing. The orb crashed toward Demogorgon, who twisted away at the last moment, though flames still licked at his grotesque flesh. The sphere would continue its relentless pursuit, a burning harbinger that Elora could guide with her will.

The demon’s twin heads swiveled toward Thumberchaud, the only visible threat. Dark magic pooled in four terrible eyes as Demogorgon attempted to dominate the dragon’s mind, to turn their greatest ally into their doom. But the ancient wyrm’s will was iron forged in centuries of existence. Thumberchaud shook his great head, dispelling the invasive magic like morning mist.

The dragon’s retaliation was swift and brutal. He dove with the fury of an avalanche, jaws closing on demonic flesh while his claws raked deep furrows across Demogorgon’s hide. The demon’s roar of pain echoed across the harbor, sending waves crashing against the docks.

Down at the creature’s feet, Maledurk had discovered an unexpected advantage. The brass dragonborn barbarian, invisible to all eyes, unleashed his inner beast in a way he’d never tried before. His tail, transformed and weaponized, slammed into Demogorgon’s shins with devastating force. The demon lord shrieked and stomped, trying to locate his unseen tormentor, but Maledurk danced away, landing blow after blow on the creature’s lower extremities. To the demon, it must have seemed as if the very ground had turned against him.

Then came the light—brilliant, searing, impossible. From an empty space near the battle erupted a beam of pure radiance, sixty feet of concentrated sunlight that swept across Demogorgon’s faces. Tempest’s wild magic had manifested as something divine, a weapon of pure illumination that burned the demon’s flesh like acid. The creature’s skin blistered and cracked under the assault, though it managed to shield its eyes from being completely blinded.

Grestkrendreghk Elassayl Thorn watched for his moment, and when it came, he struck with precision. A ray of pure disintegration lanced from nothingness, catching Demogorgon as it tried to dodge. Where the beam touched, flesh simply ceased to exist. A portion of the demon’s shoulder vanished into nothingness, leaving a smooth, impossible absence where matter had been.

The battle raged on, each invisible hero adding their fury to the assault. Elora attempted to reduce the demon to a more manageable size, but Demogorgon’s otherworldly constitution resisted the magic, leaving only a peculiar bald patch where some of its hair had shrunk. Her flaming sphere continued its relentless pursuit, keeping portions of the demon perpetually ablaze.

City guards fired crossbow bolts that bounced harmlessly off demonic hide, their efforts brave but futile. They shouted in Dwarvish, encouragement or curses—it mattered little against such a foe.

Desperation crept into Demogorgon’s movements. The demon prince cast its will toward Thumberchaud once more, weaving magic that should have enslaved any mind. For a moment, the dragon’s eyes glazed, his head turning toward the invisible adventurers with predatory intent. But with a roar that shook the heavens, Thumberchaud shattered the mental chains, and for the first time, fear flickered in Demogorgon’s four eyes.

The dragon’s vengeance was terrible. Fang and claw tore into the demon with renewed fury, one particularly vicious strike finding a weak point in the demon’s defenses. Ichor flowed freely now, mixing with the harbor waters in dark, spreading clouds.

Maledurk abandoned his tail attacks, drawing forth his Sunsword in a blaze of holy radiance. The invisible blade carved through demon flesh twice in rapid succession, each strike guided by righteous fury and protective rage for his companions.

Tempest’s beam of sunlight swept across Demogorgon again, adding to the creature’s agony. The demon prince stood at the edge of oblivion, teetering but not yet fallen.

It was Thorn who delivered the finale. Invisible wings carried him upward until he hovered before Demogorgon’s twin faces. With careful precision, he wove chain lightning between his fingers, the electricity crackling with anticipation. The demon saw the spell at the last moment, jerking aside, but Thorn had anticipated this. The lightning struck the second head instead, then bounced between both skulls in a spectacular display of electrical fury.

For a moment, Demogorgon stood frozen, smoke rising from its heads, fire consuming portions of its body, massive wounds weeping ichor. Then, with a sound like the world ending, the Prince of Demons toppled backward into the harbor. The splash sent a wave washing over the docks, drenching everyone nearby—especially Maledurk, who stood closest.

“I’ve been called worse,” the dragonborn muttered to the seemingly empty air, though his invisible companions heard him clearly.

The demon sank beneath the dark waters and did not rise again.

As the invisibility magic faded, the adventurers materialized one by one on the bloodied docks. The dwarven citizens, who had moments before cowered in terror, now erupted in celebration. They rushed forward, cheering and crying, some dropping to their knees in gratitude. The scene reminded them all of victories past, of celebrations in distant lands, though none mentioned the comparison aloud.

Thumberchaud landed with earthshaking force, his ancient eyes surveying the adventurers with something that might have been respect. “Nothing can defeat an ancient red dragon,” he rumbled, though there was an acknowledgment in his tone that he had not fought alone. “You’ve done well. Come speak to me at some later time.”

Without waiting for a response, the dragon launched himself skyward, disappearing over the underground lake’s dark expanse. They all knew he would return—Gracklestugh was his domain, after all—but for now, he left them to their victory.

The dwarves pressed closer, their relief palpable. These sturdy folk, who had watched their city harbor become a battlefield between forces beyond mortal comprehension, now saw their salvation standing before them. The gratitude in their eyes spoke volumes—these heroes who had saved Gracklestugh would not want for aid in their quest to reach the surface.

As the celebration continued around them, the adventurers exchanged glances. They had faced the Prince of Demons and emerged victorious. Elora’s flames still danced on the water where Demogorgon had fallen. Thorn’s lightning had left the air tasting of copper and victory. Tempest’s wild magic had proven once again to be more blessing than curse. And Maledurk—loyal, protective Maledurk—stood ready as always, Sunsword still gleaming with holy light.

The Underdark had thrown its worst at them, and they had prevailed. The path to the surface seemed a little less impossible now, with the grateful dwarves of Gracklestugh ready to aid their ascent. But for this moment, in the aftermath of impossible victory, they simply stood together, visible once more, heroes in the deepest darkness of the world below.