Issue 013: The Harbinger of Doom

A band of heroic explorers ventures into a mysterious dungeon filled with deadly traps and guardians, seeking the mysterious Harbinger of Doom. Hard to find legends and mysterious tales allude to the deadly power of this mythical weapon. The Dungeon Knights hope to find this weapon so they can sell it. However, what they find is not what they are looking for.

Six people stand inside a dilapidated stone staircase beside a rusty iron gate.

The half-human priestess Chalándril asks, “Are you sure this is the place? This area is littered with underground dungeons and cairns.”

“That’s what the map suggests. It’s crude but rather clear.” responds the dark-skinned archer named Bandric.

The small, armored dwarven man interjects, “It doesn’t matter if this is the right place or not. We don’t have any more money. Either we find something in here we can sell or barter for supplies, or we’re going to starve. Kotyka, get over there and unlock the gate before I smash it with my axe.”

The lithe, green-skinned girl approaches the gate cautiously. She lowers her magical goggles and inspects the gate. With practiced ease, she slips out several tools from her pack and begins to fiddle with the old, worn lock. Click! Rust flakes float to the floor as the half-ork burglar removes the lock. “It just needed a bit of oil and a gentle nudge.”

Kotyka stares back at her friends. They look expectantly back at her. Finally, the beautiful elven girl speaks. “Well…”

Kotyka blinks. The goggles magnify her round, red eyes. “Uh, er, why don’t I take the lead?”

The elven Merimonwë waves her on. “Get going then. It’s not going to stay midday forever.”

The small, bearded man, Tolok, standing on the stairs adds, “I believe that this Harbinger of Doom will be well guarded with traps and guardians. The last owners will undoubtedly want to keep it out of the hands of tomb raiders, such as us.”

Kotyka gulps noticeably. Bandric retorts, “We’ll keep that in mind.”

The dungeon continues deeper into the ground. After a series of ingenious traps and locked doors, the group reaches what appears to be a most unusual door. It is completely made out of metal with a wood façade and a large door ring in the center. The stone archway is well crafted and shows little wear.

Green-skinned Kotyka approaches the strange door hesitantly. With her goggles in place, she inspects the doorway. “The trap looks dangerous. I hope I can disarm it.” She closes her eyes to steady her nerves. “I mean I know I can.”

Gûltar, the small warrior, leans on his axe. Stroking his bushy, red beard and long mustache, he asks to one in particular, “‘Ya sure the information on this dungeon is reliable?”

“Well, we paid enough for it. I am sure the Harbinger is in here,” replied Tolok. The gnomish man straightens his vest and adjusts his cloak.

“Do we even know what it is?” asks Gûltar.

“Some kind of magic weapon, I believe. It was locked up here so no one could use it,” replied Tolok.

Fair Merimonwë frowns. “If it’s that dangerous then why are we trying to get it?”

With a click, Kotyka unlocks and opens the door. A wretched stench emerges from the dark room. In the flickering torchlight, portions of the room begin to move.

Bandric quips, “Let’s ask them.” He nocks an arrow and pulls on the bowstring.

Several rotten corpses of strange creatures with four arms emerge from the door. The chorus of their voice sounds like “Mmnarrr.”

Tolok states, “There are a lot of them. Gûltar! Let me augment your fighting prowess. Enlarge!”

The well-armored dwarf grows. When the magic finally stops, Gûltar is looking Bandric eye to eye. “Now that’s more like it, eh?”

Bandric unleashes his arrow and draws another from his quiver. “Stop admiring your new view. Just get in there and start chopping skulls.” The big dwarf raises his axe and wades into the crowd of undead flowing into the hallway.

“Arrows may not work as effectively against them as his ax, Bandric” says Chalándril.

“That’s all right, I’ll just shoot faster.”

The undead zombies look like long-dead creatures—open wounds have congealed and festered. Their skin is gray and lifeless. Most of them wear dirty white coats with strange symbols upon the chest area. Between the ferocious chopping, the medium-sized dwarf and the rapid impaling of arrow shafts into fetid flesh, bits of zombies begin to fly around the combat area.

Merimonwë cringles her nose, “Ewe, they are so gross looking. They better not touch me.” A bit of zombie flesh falls on Merimonwë. Her expression turns to anger and then rage. “That’s it! No more Miss Nice Girl. Time to die…again…zombies scum!”

Her large elven eyes begin to turn a light green glow. The crackling of eldritch energy forms in her hands. The sorceress casts her spell, unleashing a fiery wave of flames upon the zombies. Burning bodies begin to stumble to the ground. Finally, Gûltar hacks the head off the last remaining zombie.

Gûltar begins to shake zombie flesh off his ax and says, “The guardians seem real enough, eh?”

Chalandril looks pensive. “Real enough to be cautious. There may be more of these accursed creatures. Perhaps even something more difficult to slay. Remain alert!” The chamber is empty except for the stray finger bone or rotten ear.

Unseen by the six adventurers is a small ephemeral, mystical eye floating through the darkness. Arcane wisps of energy trail behind it as its follow the intrepid band. As if having a mind of its own, the intangible eye remains out of sight.

After a quick search, the band continues on to the next door. Not only is this door just as unusual as the last one, but it is much larger and more intricate. Tolok looks at Bandric and says, “Another door so soon? This is odd.”

The archer elbows Kotyka. “Do you have to check for traps? I’m pretty sure it has some.” He winks. The burglar crouches down and begins her diligent work.

“There we go. Trap’s disabled and the door is unlocked.”

Tolok adds, “How odd, the lock and hinges are on this side of the door.”

-

Far away, at the other end of the mystic, floating eye sits a small, green man. His large ears and small fangs are distinctive of the goblin race. A large scar runs across his right eye. The strange sigil on his forehead glows with power and the same arcane wisps as the eye. The witchdoctor Yorgeth Mar sits in a deep trance, following the activities of the band from the safety of his lair. The goblin chants unintelligently by his small fire.

Yorgeth’s eyes open. His good eye seems to look off into nothing. “Master, they have unlocked the protective wards and defeated the guardians—just as you planned.”

A cloaked, mysterious figure stands in the shadows. The faint reddish glow of his eyes are all that show from beneath is hood. “Splendid! They are doing better than expected. Well worth the gold I paid the informant to disclose the Harbinger’s location.”

“They are heading further into the vault.”

The cloaked goblin master replies, “Better to have others risk their own lives than risk our forces. One remaining seal and the dark power will be revealed.”

-

Meanwhile back in the dungeon, the group of six stares at a most extraordinary sight. Their faces are a mix of awe and disbelief. As the door opened, distant lights turned on illuminating the once dark chamber. The room is a mixture of metal and stone walls with strange glass ornaments. Several pillars support the high ceiling and have magical panels of light. In the center of the room is a large glass container filled with a phosphorescent green, glowing liquid.

Gûltar makes his usual frown, “This had better be the Harbinger ‘cause I’m thirsty. Besides the fights weren’t challenging.”

The half-ork tilts her head from side to side. “It doesn’t look like a magical weapon. Or anything you can carry. It’s bolted to the floor. There’s no sense in preventing people from taking it when you can’t even move it.”

The priestess closes her eyes for a moment. “I sense great evil in this room. Be on your guard.”

“Of course it’s evil. This stuff is always evil.” Bandric replies.

“This is totally weird. I’m not having fun!” Merimonwë adds. “Joining this dungeon exploring team was a bad idea. No one even acknowledged how well I toasted those zombies in the last room. Harump!”

Kotyka straightens up. Her beady eyes wide, “Oh gods, I saw something move!”

Bandric settles into a combat stance and draws his bow. “I saw it too. Perhaps there’s another guardian inside…the container.”

“Finally! Some real action!” Gûltar yells.

Inside the glass container, bubbles begin to form in the liquid. The green liquid swirls and moves. Strange blobs of tubular flesh press on the glass walls and then squirm away. After a time, the movement and bubbles begin to subside.

“So, is container the treasure?” Kotyka asks. “How’ll we carry it out?”

Merimonwë adds, “Is that monster using the Harbinger or is it swimming in the Harbinger? Are you sure you don’t have more information on what this…thing is? Tolok?”

Gûltar snorts, “It doesn’t matter now. We’re here and we’re going to take something back to town.”

Chalándril’s eyes begin to turn white as she engages her magic sight. Her outstretched hand glows. “The device doesn’t register any form of magic. We’ve been misled about its magic power.”

The dwarf pats his weapon. His mustache arches as if grinning. “Let’s smash it. That should open it right up. The pick end of my ax would work well.”

The wizard gnome walks over to the base of the large container. He starts to look around pressing buttons and jiggling levers. “Look, there is some writing on the device. It is a puzzle or code of some kind. Kotyka, come help me with it.”

Kotyka raises her hands defensively. “I’m not sure getting closer is a good idea.” Bandric begins to nudge her forward. She resists reluctantly. “This stuff looks way too difficult for me to figure out.”

After a few minutes of investigation and chin rubbing, Tolok mutters to himself, “Hmmm, uh huh. Ah, that must be it!” He manipulates the controls, knobs and levers with ease.

Bandric winches, “I got a bad feeling about this.”

Tolok hops up and down. “Yes I see. Clever, very clever, brilliant actually.”

“You should really stand back, Tol. I sense something here--danger. My intuition tells me what you’re doing isn’t safe” states Chalándril.

The overconfident gnome gestures her away in a dismissive manner. “Tut tut. They used a Gemórean locking algorithm based on prime numbers. Simple if you know the prime number sequence and how to manipul…”

Before he can finish his sentence, the container starts clicking and hissing. The ornate lid vibrates. “Beep. Beep. Whirl. Click. Click. Hum. Whirl. Click.” The lid turns. Several hoses and devices detach from the lid with a pop and hiss. The top of the container slowly rises into the ceiling. A small cloud of mists escapes as the lid opens. Bubbles and gas spew from the top of the glass container.

“Oh my…”

From the liquid, long putrid-orange colored tentacles emerge and hold themselves on to the rim of the container. A long snake-like creature rises from the liquid. Its tripartite eyes scan the room. Its triangular pupils dilate. Other tentacles slosh around in the glass container.

Bandric sighs, “I think I just wet myself.”

The suction cups on the mottled, orange tentacles make popping sounds as they readjusted on the metal and glass. The full height of the serpentine monster becomes apparent. Three slender tentacles ending in large bulb slither into view pointing at the explorers. The bulbs erupt in blinding light, with intensely hot rays shooting out with a phfit sound. One of the beams hits Tolok. He stumbles back a step and then bows over. Another strikes the Gûltar’s armor. “Ooph! By the Maker’s Beard—Does anyone know what in the forge this thing is, or how to kill it? Weaknesses?”

Kotyka rolls out of the way of the third ray, avoiding the deadly attack. The monster roars in a strange gurgling and clicking language. Phfit phfit, it shoots more hot rays of light.

Merimonwë’s eyes grow wide. She tries to breathe but coughs up blood. Looking down, she sees the smoking wound on her side. Blood drips from her nostril and mouth. Falling to her knees, Merimonwë catches herself with her arms. Then she finally collapses onto the floor.

-

Back in the secluded cave, the goblin witchdoctor Yorgeth Mar continues his trance and control of the mystic eye. Smoke from the fire and incense waif by his glowing forehead. The mystic opens his red eyes. “Master, the creature is free of its prison.”

The heavily cloaked figure in the shadows seems to grin. His glowing eyes tighten in glee. “Excellent! Ready your troops.”

-

Meanwhile, in the strange dungeon, the Dungeon Knights, the band of explorers, is fighting a dangerous monster. Now that the surprise of the unknown has worn off, the remaining teammates move defensively around the container. Phfit Phfit Phfit, more deadly rays shoot forth. Dodging the lethal barrage of beams, Chalándril makes her way to Merimonwë. The half-human priestess leans down and summons her healing strength. “Great Mother, heal my comrades so we may fight this foul denizen.” A soft white burst of light fills the room. The healing energy returns strength to Tolok, but Merimonwë remains severely injured.

Splonk! The large monster slithers out of the container with a splash. The eerie green liquid streams down the outside of the glass container. An arrow finds purchase in the main trunk of the monster. Its triangular pupils widen with pain. The tripartite eyes move towards the woodsman archer, who nocks another arrow. Bandric yells, “Gûltar, drop the pack and get in there!”

The small, bearded dwarf runs with his axe held ready. “I’m way ahead of you!”

Gûltar leaps into the air with powerful swing. The sharp axe misses. The monster’s free tentacle wraps itself around Gûltar’s axe arm. Another tentacle wraps around his thick body. With a violent shake, the dwarf’s helmet falls off and the creature draws him near its eyes. Green goop drip from the moist monster upon Gûltar’s arm. He struggles to free his arm. “This thing smells bad.”

Bandric tumbles over to metal pillar. He shoots his arrow and says, “I’m not surprised. It’s been swimming in its own offal for who knows how long.”

Gûltar’s face grows irritated, “I didn’t need to know that, Bandric”

Phfit Phfit. More shots are fired from the monster’s appendages. Veins in Gûltar’s muscles strain. With a great yell, he wiggles free of the tentacles. While falling, he spins his axe and digs the pick end into the plated hide of the beast. The momentum of his fall rips a huge gash down the monster’s side. Gûltar lands with a thud.

The Harbinger slithers between two large metal pillars. It continues to shoot its deadly beams at the Knights. In an attempt to gain a flank on the monster, Kotyka tumbles around the room throwing daggers at the creature’s eyes. With a final flip in the air, she lands on the far side of Gûltar. He grins under his thick mustache. “Girl, I like the way you think!”

Before the dwarf can unleash his mighty swing, the Harbinger slithers toward the door and with final gurgle slips out into the hallway. Bandric rises from this defensive cover and says, “Mr. Ugly sure moves fast.”

Kotyka and Bandric head out of the room in pursuit. Gûltar follows as best as his short legs allow to guard the door. Chalándril looks around the room at the scorch marks, blood, and arrows lying scattered. Lights continue to blink on the metal lid. The scent of the containment fluids wafts across the room. She looks sad and confused. “What have we done?”

Tolok arrives at her side. “I believe the Harbinger is not an object of power but a creature…a dangerous creature.”

“So what was your first clue, my wounded arm or the nearly dead elf?” shouts Gûltar.

Chalándril straightens up. Her eyes narrow with stern resolve. “This is not the time for bickering. We have a new mission now.”

Bandric and Kotyka return to the Harbinger’s vault. “We lost it after it left the dungeon entrance. I didn’t want to split the group up.”

The priestess raises her arm in a commanding fashion. “We released that accursed thing whether we meant to or not. It is our responsibility to hunt it down and slay it before some innocent person gets killed. By the gods, we will kill it.”

She takes a deep breath. “Check the walls for hidden rooms. Take everything that’s not nailed down or too heavy. We’ll sort it out later. Let’s move. There’s no time to waste.”

Kotyka lowers her goggles and begins searching. As she approaches Bandric’s position she whispers, “You know this was supposed to be an easy job with easy money.”

Looking around cautiously for the half-human, Bandric retorts, “Easy money is never easy and there’s never any money. Besides, someone needs to tell Bossy over there that I’m the team leader.”

Sometime later, the Knights emerge from the subterranean dungeon into the late afternoon sun. The long shadows cast by the tree speak of the soon arriving dusk. Bandric leans down to inspect the ground and nearby shrubs for tracks. “It came this way. Back towards the village, we visited before entering the dungeon. It’s only a few hours walk.”

Even with Gûltar weighed down by their gear, the group makes the trek with great speed. Lots of smoke billow on the horizon. When the Knights clear the last hill, what they see astonishes them. Chalándril cries, “What happened?”

Before them is a small farming village lying in ruins. Several buildings are burning out. A few buildings are charred frames of their previous form. Perhaps six or so of the stronger buildings remain. Walls and signs throughout show scorch marks. The serpentine furrows in the ground tell of recent battle between the unprepared villagers and the Harbinger. Villagers mill about the carcass of the once quaint village trying to help the wounded, douse the dying fires, and remove the dead. Along the outskirts, a man notices the Knights and calls out to them.

Hearing the commotion, a small band of pitchfork-armed villagers runs to their companion’s defense. Upon seeing the Knights lack tentacles and monstrous eyes, the defensive-force breathes an audible sigh of relief. Finally, the chubby villager speaks up, “It was awful. A savage monster crawled in here and killed everyone. It was so strange looking...and dangerous. Writhing tentacles were everywhere.”

A skinny man chimes in, “The monster shoots beams of magic! Look at the burn marks on the walls. Who will tell the Baron?”

Chalándril raises her hands in a calming, non-confrontational manner. “Good people, listen to me. We are hunting this very creature now. However, we need some rest and supplies to continue on. It’s nearly Night. We could use a place to rest and then we’ll continue our search in the morning.”

“Thank the gods you are here to protect us. Please stay as long as you need…and armed as long as you want.” adds a woman who carries her young child. “I’ll get some others to help cook a community meal if the rest of you could help with the injured and damages.”

“Of course.”

In the early morning, Gûltar approaches the reassembled Knights. “And I need a drink. Is there a tavern nearby?”

Bandric adds, “I could use more arrows.”

Tolok continues, “I need tobacco and…”

Then Chalándril interrupts, “No. We need to stick together in case we run into the Harbinger. We will re-supply for essentials only then resume our pursuit.”

“But” interjects Tolok, “my tobacco supply is critically low. The shop is just…”

Not hearing the whiny gnome, Gûltar asks, “Does that mean no ale? It’s essential for dwarven health.”

Chalándril gives him a stern gaze. “Just asking.” He says defensively.

The Knights get their gear on, loading Gûltar with the heaviest pack. The chubby villager approaches Chalándril nervously. “Excuse me m’lady. The town priestess was slain by the monster. So many dead…we…”

The half-human’s stern demeanor gives way to compassion. The priestess places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “All right, we won’t move out so quickly. Let us attend to your dead before we leave. It’s the least we can do.” She motions to the others, “Quickly, go get your vital supplies while I perform the Death Rites for the villagers.”

Bandric pumps his fist, “Yes. I can’t believe how many arrows I go through.”

Later that morning, the Knights leave the village. Many of the thankful peasants wave goodbye to the adventurers. The Harbinger’s tracks are easy to follow. It laid a wide path of destruction that even a novice ranger could track. There are signs of the Harbinger’s destruction throughout dead animals, burnt wagons, smoldering farmhouse and broken trees.

Near a particular heavy furrow, Bandric kneels down to inspect. “The trail seems to lead to a nearby walled town. The tracks start out in a random direction when it turns sharply and heads toward a population center. That’s what it did prior to the last village and it’s doing it again.”

“The Harbinger must have some targeting or food sensing ability. I wonder what its range is,” adds Tolok.

Merimonwë says, “But it hasn’t eaten anyone. Well not more than a few bites anyway. Wait, does it even have teeth or a mouth?”

“No, it has not eaten anyone yet. Killed yes, eaten no.” Tolok scratches his beard thoughtfully. “That IS odd. Why does it blast people but not eat them? Most unusual for an animal.”

-

In the cavern lair of the goblin Yorgeth Mar, the witchdoctor stokes the incense to create a clear clairvoyant vision of Bandric in the smoke.

The shadowy, cloaked figure enters the chamber, “What is the progress on the Harbinger? Are you ready for containment?”

“It is proceeding on schedule and I’m ready for containment Master,” replies Yorgeth Mar. “However, the mercenaries are following the Harbinger. I believe they intend on killing it.”

The cloaked goblin approaches the scrying bowl. “Perhaps they are better than I suspected. The mercenaries are becoming a nuisance.” Ithayek turns to the wolf-riding goblin now entering the chamber. “Duyal, I have a mission for you.”

With a hateful gleam in his eyes, the well-armored goblin answers in a husky voice, “What is your bidding, my master?”

The Knights are making their way through the edge of the lightly wooded area. Merimonwë’s eyes perk up and Bandric turns towards a thicket of undergrowth. He raises his hands in an attempt to silence his comrades. Unfortunately, there is no time. Leaping over the low brush is an armored goblin riding a savage wolf. His wicked lance ends with a sharp blade glistening in the sun. 

Several other goblins spur their wolf mounts over the brush, yelping, and hollering. Bandric manages to get an arrow off before the wolves reach his position. The arrow sinks deeply in the shoulder of the second goblin.

The lead goblin rides by Bandric, attempting to skewer him on the lance. Bandric dodges past the small goblin and draws another arrow from his quiver. Tolok gestures with his hands and speaks the arcane words “Invisibility”. With a subtle pop, he disappears.

Another goblin rider runs down Kotyka. The power of the strike causes her to stumble and fall. The goblin squeals with glee. He yells back at her, “Kuru malamikoj! Morto alvenis!”

Gûltar sloughs off the overfilled backpack and readies his ax. Two mounted goblins charge past him. The dwarf deftly dodges their lances and counter swings. His sharp blade misses the goblins by mere inches. Bandric scrambles for a better position on the field while the mounted wolves begin to circle his teammates.

A goblin spurs his wolf towards Chalándril. She readies her mace and sets for the impending attack. The lance grazes her arm, spouting blood. The snarling wolf nips at her. She swings and misses. The goblin smacks his shield into her chest causing Chalándril to stumble and fall. Seeing her give ground, the nimble goblin quickly dismounts and races back towards the priestess. Chalándril cries out, “I’m down. Someone help me please.”

The goblin stands over her. With a vicious blow, he knocks her out. A wily grin emerges on his face. Through the corner of his eyes, he spots his next potential victim.

Bandric sees the grinning goblin standing over the limp body of Chalándril. He unleashes two arrows that find deep purchase within the goblin warrior. The goblin falls back, blood pouring out of his wounds. His wolf companion turns and charges towards Bandric.

Merimonwë works her way towards Bandric. Seeing the charging wolf, she begins casting a spell. Her eyes glow green and her words echo arcanely, “Improved magic missile”. A thick bolt streaks through the air hitting the wolf square in the chest. The power of the hit knocks it back. The wolf lies limp on the field.

Kotyka races towards the priestess. “Chalándril, are you alright?”

“I’m not dead. So I guess that’s alright.” The green-skinned girl smiles at her friend’s labored response. Chalándril begins to cast a healing spell upon herself. Three audible pops fill the air. Three badgers appear in the midst of the fray. The feral beasts immediately begin to intercept the mounted goblins and nip at their legs. The badger attack causes one wolf to stumble throwing its rider onto the ground. The Badgers quickly pounced on the grounded opponent.

Seeing this, Gûltar remarks, “It’s about time I get reinforcements.” He turns and slices through a charging goblin. Bandric continues to shoot the goblin riders felling one at a time. The rider-less wolves decide to flee the field.

Kotyka tackles another goblin warrior. After a quick melee, she forces him to the ground and begins rapidly stabbing the goblin in the stomach. She quickly looks around at the field and sees the lead warrior lining up a charge on Gûltar. The half-ork mutters, “Gûltar’s in trouble!”

The helmeted goblin warrior Duyal lowers his lance. His voice echoes in the hollowness of his helmet, “Time to die dwarf!” Duyal spurs his wolf forward and begins a spirited charge across the field to the ax-wielding Gûltar. The pounding of the wolf’s pads upon the ground beat in a rhythmic tune. Barump barump barump.

The battle-hardened dwarf turns and spots the approaching enemy. His hands instinctively grip the ax shaft tighter. His feet shift in the dirt, finding stability. Gûltar bends his knees slightly in anticipation. His senses focus on the charging goblin knight. Barump barump barump. Under his breath, he says, “Wait for it. Time the charge. Wait…”

The glistening lance tip inches closer and closer. With the swiftness of a flicking flame, Gûltar steps to the side swinging his ax upon the shaft of the lance. Snap! The force of the blow unbalances Duyal, sending him forward and off his mount. Using the momentum of the strike, Gûltar spins around and slices into the wolf’s back. The blade bites deeply into the furry flesh. “Gotch ‘ya!”

The rider Duyal tumbles forward and stops his fall. Rising to a knee, he sneers at the dwarf. Duyal slowly draws his two cleavers from the sheaths on his back. The scrapping metal sound sends a chill down Gûltar’s spine. The goblin leaps to his feet and runs at Gûltar. When Duyal reaches the dwarf’s position, he leaps into the air. The blades shining in the sunlight, they swirl around in a masterful display of combat prowess.

Time seems to stop for Gûltar. He watches the goblin’s combat leap through the sun. Gûltar mutters to himself, “This isn’t good…”

Who will be the victor? Find out next issue.

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Location: A dungeon in the Hill of Tombs

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Dungeon Knight Roster:

Bandric (Human Ranger 5)

Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 5)

Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 5)

Kotyka (Half-ork Rogue 5)

Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 5)

Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 5)

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“Easy money is never easy and there’s no money.” – Bandric

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