Mysterious attacks upon livestock and missing fish hauls raise the ire of the local villagers. Torn nets and broken boats lie half-sunk in their tiny harbor. No tracks are left. No bodies are found. No enemy to vilify. In short, there are no leads as to whom or what are doing these dastardly deeds. Truly dark times are stirring in this little fishing village. (Part One of the Foul Waters series)
The Dungeon Knights, a team of six individuals who hire out for tomb looting, dungeon exploration, and monster slaying, walk along a poorly maintained road. The small gnomish man Tolok says, “I must admit, I did not know there were that many goblins in the area.” [Issue 4]
Kotyka, the skinny, black-skinned half-orc replies, “I’m tired of seeing goblins if you ask me.”
The beautiful elven maiden Merimonwë adds, “We killed hundreds of them-dead ones, big ones, horned ones, winged ones and creepy ones. And don’t forget the weirdo rope thing at the Mill or that damned Monster with like a thousand eyes.” [Issue 19, Issue 20, and Issue 21]
“I believe it was four eyes.” adds the dwarven warrior and group grouch.
The dark-skinned human, Bandric, stands to overlook the local area. Bandric is at a crest in the road pointing onward towards the shore. “There’s a small village up ahead. Come on.”
The group’s priestess, Chalándril, is a half-human woman recently released from military service with the Elvish Nation. Her proud stature and accessible weapons demonstrate an internal conflict between war or peace, healing or harming, human or elf. “It will be nice to have regular food again. I’m tired of trail rations.”
Clearing the wooded hill, the Dungeon Knights see before them several buildings around a small cove. The sun’s reflection dance across the undulating waves of the sea. The sound of waves crashing against the shore grows louder with every step. Not only can the heroes feel the salty air, but they can smell the salt water and old rotting fish with their scrunched up noses.
The brightness of the sun and water make silhouettes of the boats. Two women, one with a basket of fish atop her head, the other carrying a basket of vegetables on her hip, walk up the faint dirt road past the Dungeon Knights. The women’s conversation becomes whispers as they pass the armed strangers.
Down by the docks, a fisherman gets help opening his unusually heavy net. Several men assist as they drag the net to a better location on the dock. With deft ease, the fisherman unlatches the net. A wave of fish collapses in an instant. Among the typical varieties of fish is a much larger fish. A larger fish with human-like arms and legs. At first, they all jump back in fright, then curiosity lures them for a closer look. The fishermen, astonished by the find, begin to talk wildly about what it is and how it was caught in the net.
There is commotion at the center of town. A crowd is gathered, many with hands in the air. A thin man is standing on a barrel trying to calm everyone down. “Now listen to me, please. There’s a logical explanation for this. Someone from town or the local authorities will know what these things are.”
A rotund woman with thick eyebrows turns to the new arrivals and says, “You there, strangers. May we ask you a question?”
Chalándril bows, “By your leave.”
“What manner of creature is this?” The woman, called Chol, points towards the man. He displays the dead fish-man body.
Tolok uses his walking cane to prod the body and inspects the limbs. “This looks like a sahuagin body. The sahuagin are anthropomorphic fish people. Not disposed to friendly relations with land people. How did you acquire this specimen?”
“These men snagged the body in their nets. It must have died before getting caught. If it was alive, I’m sure it could’a torn its way out of the net with them claws of his.”
“Is this the first time something like this happened?” asks Tolok. The villagers flood him with stories about goats and sheep missing near the water, crustacean traps found broken and empty, torn nets and missing hauls, damaged boats lying half-sunk in the cove, and no tracks are ever found. Taking dutiful notes, Tolok compiles the information. “Thank you all for your information. We will investigate these odds occurrences and see if they are all related somehow. Please give us some time to look around.”
A woman called Vhomi speaks, “What about Zaki? His body was found floating in the water this morning. Who’s going to figure out what happened to him? Who’s going to feed his family?”
Bandric says, “That will be our first…” Merimonwë points to the dead sahuagin. “…second thing to investigate.”
Zaki’s dead body is found on the dock on the far side of the village. His eyes and mouth are wide open. Bandric says, “He was killed by something strange—look at the ears and nosebleeds. His eyes are rolled back and his tongue is swollen.”
Chalándril also inspects his body. “Something ripped his neck. That’s where the blood loss if from.”
“His body condition denotes he died in extreme pain. Perhaps a postmortem chat with this fellow is in order?” offers Tolok. The gnome looks expectantly at Chalándril.
“Yes, perhaps.” Chalándril gets comfortable next to the body. For several minutes, she repeats the sacred chant to cast the spell. Chalándril’s eyes are glowing as her magic illuminates the dead body. The villagers watching the interrogation jump back at the light and sudden movement of the dead body.
The dead body twitches and lurches. The jaw struggles to regain control. A breath of foul air expels out of the dead man’s mouth. “Hhheeeeeeh.”
“What did you see prior to your death?”
“Scaly men rising out of the water. Most had greenish scales.”
“What did they look like?”
“The blue-scaled one had those eyes. Oh, the eyes. They were so intense. I can’t look away.”
“How did the scaly men kill you?”
The body twitches as it struggles to speak. “Don’t know. My head hurts so much. The pain is strong. Intense…pain…the pain…”
The dead body collapses into pieces. A foul smell emerges from the putrid body. The villagers and Dungeon Knights back away from Zaki’s body.
“I think we’re done here.” The other Dungeon Knights nod in agreement. ‟Let’s help prepare Zaki’s body for his funeral. Let’s get a tarp to wrap up what remains of the body.”
-
The rest of the afternoon is spent investigating the various locations and mysterious stories plaguing the fish village. Soon after dusk, the Dungeon Knights congregate at the Barnacle Pub to discuss the situation. Tolok takes the initiative and says, “The evidence leads me to conclude that it is sahuagin though there is some evidence of lizardfolk activity.”
Kotyka asks, “What’s the difference? Don’t they both have scaly skin and live under the water?”
“No, not exactly. While both do have scaly skin, they are quite different. Lizardfolk, as the name implies, are a form of a lizard. As such, they cannot breathe underwater – they are amphibian creatures. They prefer marshes and coastal areas living off fish meat, shellfish, and local flora. The sahuagin are a form of fish. They cannot remain for long above water in the air. In a sense, the opposite of amphibian. I am not sure what they eat but I imagine that it is akin to what other fish eat. Both species have claws on their hands and feet, however, they are quite different in physical structure and function.”
‟Beh,” retorts Gûltar, “Thanks for the lecture, but how will knowing this help us stop these things from happening? Finding dead bodies in nets or a possible attack by the sahuagin upon these villagers?”
Gûltar is interrupted by someone running into the pub room. “Help us! Quickly, they’ve taken more of us!”
Gûltar picks up his ax. “When and where, human?”
“They attacked at a few minutes ago. We were looking for more bodies along the shore outside the main cove. These scaly lizard people jumped out of the water and grabbed us. I wiggled free and ran away before they could get me. They drag the others off towards Mangrove Marsh.”
“By the sacred anvil, stuff to kill! Don’t worry good people we’ll take care of these foul fish for you.”
In a whisper, Gûltar adds, “We’d better shove off before they eat those fishermen.”
Kotyka asks the man, “Did it look like the creature in the village’s square?”
“I don’t know. They were scaly people with tails and claws. I was trying to run away.”
At the harbor, the man points out to a small dinghy. “There take that boat. We were just around that point.” He points to the far edge of the cove.
The Dungeon Knights board the dinghy and row out to the described location. Lights from the village become smaller and smaller until they are like twinkling stars on the shore. Bandric looks into the water. He asks, “Can I start the lantern? I can’t see a thing in the dark.”
Five voices in unison respond, “No.”
Merimonwë adds, “The stars and moons are providing plenty of natural light.”
“Alright. I guess I’ll just ready an arrow and wait for trouble.”
Splashing out of the water is a large shellfish monster with crab-like claws and serpentine tentacles. It attacks the heroes on the boat. Disturbed by the recent commotion of the scaly men and their captives, a marsh denizen arrives to seek scraps of food. Instead, it finds annoying creatures in a boat. Bandric is first to get off a series of arrows into the creature’s joints and face. “Seems we never have to wait long for trouble. I think it is called a chuul – a monstrous, angry crab-lobster thing for you non-nature types.”
The monster’s claw hits the boat, rocking the dinghy side to side. Tolok holds on to the rails with an iron grip. Gûltar stands up and spins his ax to the pick side. “It looks to be de-shelling time.”
With a great swing, Gûltar hits the torso shell piercing the crustaceous exoskeleton with his metal pick. Using his unusual strength, the dwarf uses the ax head like a lever and cracks open the shell. Then he slides down the body creating a huge gash in the monster's side. However, his jerky movements cause the boat to rock violently side to side. The weight of the dwarf and the monster dips the side inches from the surface of the water. This sudden unevenness causes Chalándril to lose her balance and fall into the sea.
“Chalándril!” shouts Bandric, who has to catch his balance by grabbing the side of the boat.
In a flash, Kotyka jumps into the water, swimming towards Chalándril before she goes too deep. Merimonwë’s eyes turn green and glow. She says, “It’s time for a lobster bake!”
The elven maiden puts her hands forward and a gout of flames issue forth. Water on the shell steams away and the chuul lets out an ear-piercing screech. Having regained his sense of balance, Tolok points a hand towards the creature and sends forth a streak of magical missiles. The chuul lurches once and becomes still. Lifeless, the crab monster’s body begins to sink into the sea. Kotyka pulls Chalándril up for air. “Help us in, please.”
As Gûltar and Bandric pull Chalándril and Kotyka onto the dinghy, Gûltar says, “Looks like we’ll be having shellfish tonight.”
Bandric adds, “Does anyone have a plate big enough for that thing?”
Puzzled, Kotyka says, “But it’s sinking into the water. Do we need to get it out and in a pot before it’s gone?”
Bandric thinks for a moment. ‟Let’s drag it to the shore there and anchor it. We’ll get it on the way back and tow it to the village.
Tolok asks, ‟Does it taste good?”
Bandric raises an eyebrow, ‟Everything tastes good with melted butter.”
-
Just around the point, a small wooded island lies a few miles offshore. Like an arboreal spider web, the exposed roots of the Mangrove trees twist and turn into the shallow marshes by the sea. The shore is shallow here forcing the Dungeon Knights to disembark from the boat and slide it closer to the trees. Bandric secures the dinghy to one of the trees.
The heroes walk along the shallow shore into the thick branches. There doesn’t appear to be any path or clearing. Irregular heights cause the Dungeon Knights to struggle through the roots. Making their way through the thick underbrush and roots, the heroes finally reach a clearing and solid, dry ground. The interior of the island is lush with other trees and plant growth.
Bandric looks around with his lantern while the others tend to scratches, minor tears, and other casualties of their trek through the Mangroves. “Over here, there are lizard tracks in the soil. A large regular lizard crosses here but these others are undoubtedly lizardfolk tracks. I don’t think they’re sahuagin.”
“Let’s follow it and find the captives,” says Chalándril.
Making their way through the islands brushes and trees, they reach a thicket of dense trees, brush, and rocks. Bandric signals to stop and speaks quietly. “This doesn’t look natural. It looks constructed like a large lair or encampment of some sort.”
“Hisss.”
Bandric raises his finger to his lips. “Quiet. We don’t want to alert the guards.”
“That wasn’t me.”
“Hiss.”
The Dungeon Knights turn their gaze slowly towards the hissing sound. There standing before them are four large lizardfolk with spears ready and stone-axes in their belt. “Don’t make any sudden movements. /aktrum!”
“What?”
“That’s all I know of lizardfolk language. It means ‘peace’, I hope.”
Gûltar puts his hands up. “Or that something is stuck in your throat.”
The lizardfolk guards motion towards another side of the thicket. There, they find a small entrance. The heroes see that there is more lizardfolk in the nearby brush. They crawl through the entrance and enter into a large clearing. There are cooking fires, sleeping nest-mats, tool making area, and several slaves are tied to a large post. They are mostly human, a few gnomes, and a lone sahuagin with drying skin.
Chalándril says, “We should speak with them instead of fighting all these creatures. It might prove beneficial to use a diplomatic approach.”
Gûltar asks, “Does anyone speak their language? Bandric is out of words, and I have no clue what they’re saying now.”
Merimonwë says, “If they have any sort of civilization or contact with others, they may know Koinwer.”
Gûltar spits, “Now how in the Creator’s name would they know that bit of mercantile prattle?”
Merimonwë approaches with hands raised in caution. “Ĉu vi komprenas min? Ni venas en paco. Ni volas paroli kun via gvidanto.”
The larger lizardfolk stands menacingly. Merimonwë whispers, “I think he’s the leader.”
Lizardfolk Chief raises his ceremonial club and shakes it. “Mi komprenas cin. Mi estas la ĉefo. Parolu aǔ ni mortigos vin.”
Merimonwë’s eyes brighten and she smiles. “Hey, he understands me!”
Bandric says, “Great Meri. What did he say?”
“Speak or they’ll kill us. I guess that’s bad, eh?”
Merimonwë speaks with the chief for a few minutes. She bows respectfully and returns to the group. “This tribe is strengthening their local dominance through raids and skirmishes along the sea. It seems the sahuagin territory is crossing over on this tribe’s domain. The lizard’s new Supreme Leader is forcing them to confront their ancestral enemies, sahuagin, but this time they are winning more battles. The Supreme Leader has given them more power. It makes them strong. This band is a hunting party. They need to provide more food to their growing nestmates. He’s refusing to release the prisoners. They are, ah hum, food. They are keeping them alive so the meat will be fresh when they eat.”
Chalándril says, “Tell the chief, in exchange for the prisoners, we’ll get the villagers to provide fish and meat…as a form of tribute to their dominance and protection.”
Merimonwë says, “Per interŝanganta la kaptitojn, ni povos konvinki la vilaĝuloj providi al vi fiŝojn kaj viandojn.”
Gûltar clenches his fist. “That’s not going to work for me. Tell him to release the prisoners now or die.” Then he frowns and yells, “Liberigu ilin nur aǔ mortu!”
Merimonwë raises her hands towards Gûltar in a soothing manner. “Diplomacy is a delica…”
The Lizardfolk Chief cries, “Do ni festos sur vian karnojn, fremduloj!”
Gûltar and the Lizardfolk Chief charge each other with weapons drawn. Bandric’s head droops, “Couldn’t he warn us that he was going to attack. I’m not even ready yet.”
Merimonwë unleashes a large fireball onto a crowd of lizardfolk. Chalándril summons a floating force mace and sends it into the fray. Bandric lets loose a few arrows and orders Kotyka, “Go help Gûltar so he doesn’t get surrounded.”
“What if I get surrounded?”
“Then push the dwarf through one of the sides.”
Kotyka tumbles into melee with the Chief and Gûltar. One of the smaller lizardfolk puts his hands to the sides of his head and concentrates. Kotyka grabs her own head, cries in pain and falls to her knees. Meanwhile, Gûltar spins around and hits the Chief in the chest. The Chief bats away the ax and hits Gûltar across the head with his spear butt. Gûltar’s helmet is thrown off, bouncing along the ground.
Two lizardfolk force Chalándril to the ground while a third is knocked unconscious by her spiritual weapon. One of the lizards pulls out a large knife. An arrow pierces the hand forcing the knife out. The next arrow pierces the skull of the lizardfolk. The second lizardfolk is attacked by two big badgers that savagely pull it from atop Chalándril’s struggling body.
Kotyka finally succumbs to the pain and falls down unconscious. Bandric yells, “Tolok, we have enough support. Get that little guy. He did something to Kotyka.”
“Yes. I have the perfect spell for him.” Tolok’s hand gracefully moves through the air. “Lesser Black Tentacles.”
Out of the ground grow three large, black tentacles that entangle the little blue lizardfolk. Once firmly in their grips, they begin to squeeze. Tolok clenches his fist, the tentacles squeeze tighter, and the head of the lizardfolk pops. “Do not hurt are sweet half-orc, you brute.”
The battle rages on for a few moments longer. The Dungeon Knights overcome most of the lizardfolk and rout the rest. The remaining lizardfolk flee into the tangled roots of the Mangroves. Bandric picks up his lantern and stands near some hostages. “Time to untie the captives, unless someone objects.”
The sahuagin speaks up in a dry voice. “I am called Coral. Thank you for rescuing me from these creatures.”
Chalándril spouts, “You speak Humanese?”
-
The following day after the Dungeon Knights return, the villagers joyful that the strange visitors have saved their friends. The villagers are also happy to have such a large crustacean to eat and share. The evening is filled with laughter, drinking, and plenty of eating. The chorus of villagers singing folk songs echoes on the waves of the cove.
The trees stand in silhouette as the moons’ light shimmers on the harbor waters. Bubbles emerge from the undulating tidal waters. The blue-green scales of a lizardfolk emerge from the water. It walks out of the water towards the dark homes with lit windows. In the shimmering moonlight, its scales glisten. It concentrates.
-
Inside one of the buildings, Chalándril lies in her cot. Perspiration covers her body. She tosses and turns. Her hands grip the edges of the cot tightly. Her mind drifts to a vivid dream. Chalándril is in the field of the Elven army. Her captain is yelling at her. The voice is indistinct at first then slurs begin to form understandable words.
The Elven Sergeant continues, “…you half-human mongrel. Who let your worthless sack of flesh into my army?”
Chalándril stands straighter, shaking. “My local Ward Captain, Sergeant.”
The Sergeant’s face slowly morphs into Merimonwë’s face. “What a waste of a uniform. Ward Captains are a blight upon my Army and the Glorious Elven Empire. Sending us this worthless mongrel. Do I look like the Arcane Corp? I can’t turn nothing into something.”
The Sergeant spits at her feet. “Why didn’t your mother kill herself when she learned she had a slave’s baby in her womb? You won’t fit in anywhere! You’re not fully elf and you’re not even a smelly human.”
The Sergeant turns away from Chalándril in disgust.
Chalándril speaks up, “I joined the army to serve the Empire! I am elf enough to serve my country!”
Sergeant snaps around in rage. She stomps over to an inch from Chalándril’s nose. “How dare you!”
Chalándril awakens sweaty and shaking. She clutches her face and sobs.
-
Merimonwë’s lies in her cot. She too struggles with a strange dream. Merimonwë is in a crowd of unusual monsters. They have strange eyes, long arms, and tentacles. One looks familiar. In the back, there’s a Harbinger among the alien host. Looking around, she sees scorched earth, bodies lying in foxholes, and smoke floating across the fields of strange creatures.
Merimonwë looks up into the sky. There are strange metal shapes in the sky drifting or flying. Sometimes beams of light shoot out from a metal box and strike the ground. There is smoke and destruction everywhere. The strange creatures come towards her. They surround her with large metal staves pointed in her direction. Merimonwë feels anger and rage. The anger grows. Her hands begin to ignite with flames.
“No!” Her eyes become green glowing lights. She screams, “No. Nnnnoooooooo!”
She explodes in a brilliant flash of light—a mushroom cloud appears in the leveled town square. The creatures surrounding her burst into flames and then turn to ash. Their former ashy forms disappear in the winds. An elven silhouette emerges from the smoking ruins and firelight.
Standing in a large crater Merimonwë says, “What have I done? What have I become?”
“Merimonwë? Merimonwë?” The elven girl hears her name. Someone is shaking her. “Merimonwë? Wake up. You’re having a bad dream. A nightmare.”
Merimonwë opens her eyes and sees her friend Chalándril holding her shoulders. Chalándril looks tenderly, “It’s alright. It was only a dream.”
“Chal?”
“Yes, Meri.”
“Where am I?”
-
A horde of dark humanoid beings surround Bandric, who has his bow out. He grabs at his quiver, then his backup quiver and says “Of course, it’s empty.”
The lone human swings his bow as a make-shift staff hoping to hit any of his attackers. He lands a few blows forcing the humanoids back. A large troll steps up, grabs Bandric by the arms and pulls the human apart.
Bandric sits up in bed screaming ‟No!” Sweat pours down his face. His clothes are soak with sweat. Bandric whispers, ‟No.”
-
In a rather cozy room filled in an affluent gnomish style, Tolok scans the contents of the fine bookcase. A content smile emerges on his face. “What a splendid collection.” Tolok takes a book off his bookshelf. He opens it and looks puzzled. “This can not be.”
He takes another book off the bookshelf and opens it. “No. This can not be. There has to be writing.” He throws the book of blank pages down and grabs more books. Opening them in quick succession, he scans the contents. In a panic, he pulls more and more books and scrolls from the shelves. He checks each book and scroll. Tolok just sits in a pile of blank books and scrolls sobbing. “They are all blank. All my magic is missing. All the words are gone.”
-
Kotyka is holding a severed elven head. Kotyka is dressed in dark leather armor and covered in crimson blood. Before her is an orc army with banners fluttering in the overcast sky. “None shall stop our victory. The Empire will fall to our might! Death to all elves!”
The humanoid host cheers. “Hail Kotyka. Hail the Queen. Death to all Elves!”
Her fang peeks out as she wryly smiles. Kotyka says, ‟Kill them. Kill them all!”
Kotyka drops the elven head and sheaths her sword. Several large, armored orc step up to her side. Kotyka’s personal guard look at the queen. ‟Let’s move out. Show no mercy.”
Lying on the cot, Kotyka’s eyes open wide. Her eyes look side to side. She pulls the blanket over her head and cries.
-
The dancing lights of lanterns fill the stone staircase. A squad of dwarves walks down when a magical mouth appear at the bend. The dwarves stop and look around warily. The voice speaks in their tongue, “Beware, none shall pass and live.”
The dwarves start to chuckle and then laugh. The leader dwarf huffs, “None shall pass? Khurizi are not so easily frightened. Nor are they so easily killed.” The dwarves continue on down the stairs. A flash of metal. The lead dwarf’s head bounces down the stairs. Blood squirts from the stump of his severed neck. His body falls to the stairs, slides a few steps, and comes to the rest against the wall. The dwarf in front of Gûltar is snatched away.
Dwarf screams, “Aahhh!!!”
Gûltar awakens and swings his ax. “Lurtok!” The pick side is stuck in the wall. “Fek!”
Bandric opens his eyes and sees the pommel of Gûltar’s ax above his face. “Gûltar? Is everything alright?”
-
The moist underground chamber is filled with strange organic tubes, pulsating pods with translucent membranes, and large speckled egg-forms. Water drips from the ceiling onto the pools of water on the floor. The dim illumination provides just enough light to keep the moss covered walls verdant. Various organic vats line the walls and natural lines of the chamber.
An old, pouch-belt laden lizardfolk carrying a large basket lumbers slowly into the room. He stops at a wide tubular structure. The lizardfolk pulls back the membrane lid. He pours the viscous contents of the basket into the exposed opening and closes the lid. The sounds of struggling and cracking draw the lizardfolk’s attention.
He looks at a large egg moving itself. Cracks begin to appear on the shell. Some of the shell fragments fall to the side, exposing the reptilian head of the infant. More of the shell cracks allowing the internal slime to issue forth. Finally the infant escapes from the confines of the shell. Gills along the ribcage struggle to breathe in the airy chamber.
The old lizardfolk picks up the newborn, gently wipes off the prenatal slime and dunks the newborn underwater at the main table. The newborn ceases to struggle. It begins to calm down and breathe normally. Some of the other vats have bubbles emerging from their pools of liquid.
The lizardfolk reaches up to a small pulsating button and presses it. The light dims more. He says, “Supreme One, the new hybrid skum are healthy.”
A dark being in the corner of the chamber moves its tentacles sliding it across the slick, uneven floor. The large creature has three horizontal long eyes. Its skin is covered with a viscus slime. The creatures skin is various shades of purple, green, and olive patterns. The Supreme One replies, “Excellent. And the others?”
A gang of blue lizardfolk enters the main room. The larger one speaks, “They have grown well. The years of training have made them most superior.”
“And what of the land-monkeys?”
Another blue lizardfolk steps forward. “Supreme One, I have entered their minds and introduced nightmares. They shall not prevail from my psionically induced nightmares.”
“Excellent. Continue your work.”
=======================================================================
Location: In the Barony of Mhelkar, by the Mangrove Marsh
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 7)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 7)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 7)
Kotyka (Half-orc Rogue 7)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 7)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 7s)
=======================================================================
“We’re going to need a butter sauce after defeating this monster.” – Bandric
=======================================================================
Monday, February 26, 2018
Monday, February 19, 2018
Issue 021: The Bronze Sword of Jhalek
Long ago, a flesh-born demigod called Jhalek roamed these lands. Tales of his heroics are still told by the local villagers. Jhalek’s mighty sword saved countless lives and defeated countless foes…until it was lost. Now, this ancient sword must be found, to slay a ravaging monster that vexes a remote village. Can the Dungeon Knights find this mythic sword in time?
The little village of Fort Woodsreach is made up of several buildings including a general store, the tavern, and the main hall. Several other buildings are scattered among the sloping terrain and meandering road. The Dungeon Knights ride towards the center of town with a pronounced drift toward the tavern.
In the midst of the open market, Tolok breaks the silence, “I heard about this village, it has a rare blend of tobacco that I have wanted to try in my pipe for ages. It is based on a very particular species of plant only found in these woods and hills. I most enjoy getting a few samples during our visit.” Tolok smiles. Tolok smells the fragrant tobacco and tea leaves in the market. “Ah yes, I can smell them now. Exquisite.”
Tolok pulls his pony over and dismounts. “I will catch up with you all later. I can not pass this up. This will make a great entry into my travel journals. Quite thrilling actually.”
The tea merchant standing beneath his canopy bows politely. “Greetings sir, I see you are fond of our tea collection. I feel obliged to tell you that a shipment from the northern Starmere region is due in a few days. They have a minty tea leaf of unique quality.”
Tolok’s eyes grow wide with curiosity. “The yellow cloud mint leaf? You can get that here?” The tea merchant nods affirmatively. “We must stay for a few days until the other teas arrive. Please.”
Bandric and the others agree to stay. “Alright Tolok. We’ll stay. Once we deliver the antitoxin to the Fort, we’re done. We might as well take a little rest. It would be unseemly to finish the mission too early. The Baron might expect that kind of efficiency all the time.” The band turns their horses towards the collection of larger buildings including a tall watch tower and trot off.
Unpacked and relaxed, the heroes share a meal on the bench-tables in the town’s modest tavern. Chalándril negotiates with the tavern keep allowing them to sleep in the main room for the night. “The village really doesn’t have any inns or lodgings. Once the other patrons leave, we’ll bed down for the night. We’ll have to tidy up the room a bit as part of our rate.”
Merimonwë wrinkles her nose. “Tidy up? You mean he wants us to clean, like we’re common house staff? You must be joking. Why I…” The elf catches a stern look from Chalándril. “Fine. I’ll help. This is so beneath my station. Grrr.”
The Dungeon Knights settle in on a little used table and make themselves comfortable. The window is open allowing the gentle breeze and sounds to waft in. Wild loud noises echo through the woods. “What is that sound? Is it a dire wolf or feral beast?” asks Kotyka. “This area seems noisier than others.”
The villagers in the tavern look frightened. No one talks. After a bit of looking around, the villagers all take another drink from their mugs. The tavern is quiet except for the crackling of the fire burning in the hearth. The local patrons drink their mead nervously. “Dang nab it!” shouts an old man. “Someone has got to tell the new fellers about the Monster of the Woods.”
The villagers seem to gasp in unison. “Fine, I’ll do it. Dang nab it. The worse that’ll happen is I’ll die. And that be coming soon anyhow.”
Chalándril asks, “What is the Monster of the Woods?”
“You’ve never heard the Legend of the Monster of the Woods?” The Old Man smacks his lips. “Figured as much. New folk don’t know much about these parts. Aye, this is an old tale passed down from grandfathers for generations. It is older than the Ironfinders Kingdom and the old Sumar Empire. Why it might be older than the Elves.”
Merimonwë looks puzzled. “That would be old indeed...and quite unlikely.”
The Old Man walks over and sits next to the fire.
“When the Monster arrived, no one knows. Nor from whence it came. Always it must feed on the blood of those who work the land. For many seasons, it howled and hunted throughout the village at night. In the morning, chewed up bodies litter the lands. The villager’s plea to the old King of Long Ago was answered. King of Long Ago sent stout warriors. Each one lay dead in the morning. Each one killed by the monster.”
“One day, Lord Thunder heard the prayers of the people. He called his sons to his hall in Asgard. ‘One of you must help these people.’
His youngest son, Jhalek the Fair, stepped forward. Father, ‘I shall go.’
‘Brave are you Jhalek’, said Thunder. ‘Take this mighty sword blessed with sacred mead. Use it, my son, to lay the beast low. Once it is slain, take out the heart and offer it up in fire to me, Lord of Thunder. Other weapons will fail to find purchase in the Monster’s flesh. Only the ancient sword can slay the foul beast when it rises from its sleep.’”
“And so it came to pass that Thunder’s half-mortal son, Jhalek came to the village and slew the Monster. The villagers watched from the fields and rushed to help a mortally wounded Jhalek. They carried him to the great hall and tended his wounds. They held a feast in his honor. In the confusion and merriment, he forgot to take the Monster’s heart. He forgot to offer it upon the altar. He lost the magic sword. The Monster’s body disappeared. No one knew to where it went.”
“Now, every few years on the night of a double full moon, the Monster awakens from its slumber deep in the hills. It comes to feed for a fortnight then returns to who knows where. That is the mystery of the Monster of the Woods. No one has lived and seen it. All we can ever do is hide during the night until it returns to its hidden slumber.”
Merimonwë scrunches her nose. “Isn’t it a double full moon now?”
“Aye, it is. The monster is afoot. Beware when you travel at night. Avoid the howling and you will be safe.”
Gûltar scoffs, “We’ve killed many monsters. It doesn’t seem that tough. My ax is made of dwarven steel. Nothing is stronger than that.”
One of the villagers perks up. “You are monster slayers? Old Man, tell them about the Stone and the Howling Cave. Maybe they can stop the curse.”
“What curse?”
The Old Man points his bony finger. “Weren’t you listening? The Monster of the Woods! That is our curse! Do you think a monster stomping around and killing folk isn’t a curse? Pay attention. If you kill the Monster, you will end the curse. Just find the old sword, kill the Monster, and sacrifice its heart to Lord Thunder.”
Bandric thinks, “That sounds easy enough.”
Chalándril pounds her fist on the table. “What? I don’t think we should get involved in another dangerous mission until we complete our first one.”
“But Chal, it is done. We delivered the antitoxin to the fort’s commander. A report back to the Baron isn’t urgent. A few extra days won’t make a difference.”
“What is the Stone?”
The Old Man adds, “It marks the location of the Howling Cave. Upon the Stone are etched magical runes telling the story as I have told you, give or take a few embellishments. The Stone can point you towards the location of the Sword and possibly the Monster too.”
“What is the Howling Cave and why is it dangerous?”
Villager chimes in, “These foreigners are good. They know what to ask and stuff. I think they’ll be able to do it…unlike the others.”
“What?”
The Old Man waves off the tangent and continues explaining, “The Cave is fraught with danger. No one has ever entered and returned alive.” He looks around dramatically. “Including Lord Jhalek. We fear that his long-dead body still remains within the Cave. We assume his lost sword is somewhere in there too. After all, why would he go in there unless he somehow sensed its location?”
Tolok thinks for a moment. “You think the sword and monster are in the cave, yet earlier you said you did not know where either is. Which is it? Lost or in the cave?”
“My grandfather said the sword was taken there by Spirits to protect the sword and keep it close to the Monster. Alas, no one has been able to retrieve the sword from the caves.” The Old Man smacks his lips. “My mouth is dry. If only I had something to drink.”
Captivated by his story, Kotyka offers her drink. “Here take mine.”
A few gulps later, “Ah, thank you, young woman. Where was I? Yes, go into the Howling Cave, search around for the Monster and kill it before it starts its nightly hunt.”
“Can you tell us what’s in the Cave or where this monster sleeps?”
“That I don’t know. No one knows. You’ll just have to use your wits and figure it out on your own. You are monster hunters, after all, right?”
“Technically dungeon explorers but that often includes killing monsters. Anyway, we will get started in the morning. That should give us plenty of time to explore the cave.”
The villagers begin to murmur amongst themselves. Tolok asks, “What are they saying?”
Merimonwë’s ears turn and listen. “They’re betting on us. Very few are taking the survival bet. Most are betting on whether or not we actually enter the cave. Apparently, we’re stupid and cocky enough to try.”
-
A tall stone stands in a small clearing along the hillside. In the early morning shadows, the pictographic runes appear to glow. Nearby, a large cave entrance lies ominously on the face of a rocky hill. Bones of small rodents and such are scattered around the mouth of the cave.
Tolok attempts to read the pictographs. “This seems to be a very old writing system of the ancient people of this land. I think I can make out most of the meaning. The Stone has more of the story. Jhalek did remember about the Monster’s heart and the instructions of his father. But it was too late. The Monster had fled. He recovered the magic sword and vowed that it would be used again to slay the Monster. He built this cave to protect the sword and discover a worthy owner.”
“What do they mean ‘worthy owner’?”
“I do not know.”
Gûltar takes out his ax. “Well, let’s find out.”
The Dungeon Knights peer into the dark cave mouth. A strong wind blows past the cave making a howling sound. Bandric remarks, “I hope that’s just the wind and not baby monsters of the woods.”
-
Merimonwë looks back at the cave entrance. It looks like a dusty rectangle of light in the dark, rocky tunnel. Isolated patches of plants and roots are scattered along the edges of the wall. Strings and strands of spider webs litter the corners and ceiling of the tunnel. With each uneven step, the strands of spider webs grow thicker and thicker. Kotyka leads the way into the darkness. She uses her short sword like a machete in a web jungle. The thick, sticky strands begin to bind her hand to the sword. Kotyka whispers, “They’re getting thicker. And I don’t mean webs are everywhere. I mean the strands are thicker than string now. And very, very sticky.”
The natural tunnel slopes down into the hillside in a random, zig-zag path. The tunnel is wide in some sections, much thinner in others, but always dark and thick with webs. Merimonwë’s lantern can barely cast light beyond Kotyka. Yet, the Dungeon Knights press on.
Kotyka says, “It opens up further ahead. There may a few other exits in the next chamber.”
The strands are now as thick as fingers, a few as thick as rope. Tolok slips on the uneven, rocky floor and becomes entangled in the thick webs. He struggles against the sticky adhesive, failing to pull himself free.
Bandric orders, “Tolok, stop squirming. You’ll send vibrations along the strands and attract the spider that made this. By the size of these strands, I’m guessing it’s really big.
“Just get me off this thing.”
Gûltar and Bandric finish cutting the gnome out with their knives. “Whew!” exclaims Tolok.
“Guys,” Kotyka points into the darkness. “We have company.” Merimonwë points the lantern up to the ceiling. The multifaceted eyes of several large spiders stare back at the group. They begin to move their long legs, continuing to advance. The chittering of spider voices and clicking of carapace legs sends chills down the Dungeon Knights’ spine.
-
One of the spiders spits out a bolt of webbing that knocks the lantern out of Merimonwë’s hand, adhering her arm to a nearby wall. The lantern lands on its side with a thud. Merimonwë screams, “My hand is stuck. It’s going to be difficult to case fireball like this.”
Bandric adds, “I could use a little more light. My human eyes don’t work so well in the dark.”
A splatter of fluid hits Bandric in the face. Gûltar swings his ax back to his shoulder. Spider guts drip off Bandric’s face. “You’re right about that. Oh, there’s another one behind you.”
Tolok begins his spellcasting as Kotyka deftly tumbles up and over a spider. She lands quietly and stabs the large spider in the thorax. It spins and tries to bite the half-orc with its mandibles. Nimbly avoiding the attack, Kotyka counters with a vicious slash along the large abdomen, releasing a stream of gooey innards.
Meanwhile, Chalándril continues to use her mace to beat the cephalothorax of the other spider. Gûltar continues his spider slaying swings with reckless abandon. “Gûltar stay close so we don’t get lost in the dark. And so I can heal you if you get hurt.”
“Chal, dwarves don’t get lost in tunnels.”
“I wasn’t talking about you. I said ‘we’!”
Bandric picks up the lantern and uses his knife to cut Merimonwë free. “I’m no use in the dark. At least you can see better and do a bit of magic.”
Merimonwë smiles, “You’re pretty cute for a human.”
The elf maiden casts a light spell into the room. The spiders cringe at the sudden appearance of light. “And I’m a team player. Go waste some arrows!”
Bandric puts the lantern down, readies his bow and gets an arrow knocked. “And you’re pretty hot for a hot elf chick.”
Several large dogs appear summoned by Tolok. “Help my friends against these spiders.” The dogs nod their heads and sprint off to surround a spider next to Kotyka and Gûltar. With light and reinforcements, the heroes are able to kill most of the giant spiders and send wounded ones skittering into the dark corners of the cavern.
“Let’s get moving before other spiders return.” The Dungeon Knights set out down a seemingly long tunnel on the left. As Kotyka and Gûltar struggle with the uneven tunnels and clear thick webs, Merimonwë starts getting dizzy.
One moment, she’s looking down a dark cavern illuminated with flickering light. The next moment, she’s outside on a cloudy or smoky field. Flashes of light bring her back and forth between the two visions. The desolate field extends all about her. At least the flashing stopped. Merimonwë sees a cloudy day filled with smoke and nearby explosions. Dirt clods and ash spray all about her. She is looking at Gûltar and Kotyka. Her two friends look different, yet the same.
They are in a trench filled with battle weary human and dwarven warriors. Flash. Merimonwë is running. Explosions surround her. Plods of turf and dirt spray her with each explosion. Beyond the cloud of smoke and falling dirt, she sees the silhouette of a strange creature with many glowing eyes. It raises its strange, long arm. The tip of the stick begins to glow. Flash. She’s back in the dark tunnel with her friends.
Bandric nudges her. “Are you all right? You blanked out there for a moment.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Gotta clear my head for a bit.” Merimonwë rubs her face with her hand. “Must be the stuffy conditions here.”
Gûltar grumbles, “Looks like we found another group of residents.”
Merimonwë snarks, “This time, I’m starting the fight. Fireball!”
The far end of the cavern is filled with the blinding light and fire of a large fireball explosion. The charred bodies of spiders crumble to the floor. Gûltar steps up and nudges one. “Lass, you baked them well.”
Bandric draws his hunting knife. “We use to eat grilled spiders back home. Let’s carve up a few pieces for eating later. Hate to waste all that fine magical cooking.”
-
Bandric begins to carve up one of the spiders, a large bolt of web hits him in the side sending the human sprawling to the ground. Two more spiders enter from the far tunnel. Tolok activates his beetle cloak and lifts off the ground. He begins to cast a spell. Chalándril turns towards the tunnel, ‟It looks like the fight isn’t over yet. Dungeon Knights, attack!”
Gûltar and Kotyka engage one of the spiders. The spray of spider guts and dwarven blood litter the dark cavern. Another bolt of web nearly hits Kotyka, but her nimble form dodges the dangerous shot. Chalándril helps Bandric up. ‟Get up, we need your bow Ranger.”
Bandric shoots the wounded spider, stopping its advance on the dwarf. The second spider moves in to attack Bandric. Another bolt of web shoots through the tunnel hitting Gûltar’s shield. ‟Damn, we need to stop the creature in the next room!”
Chalándril summon a holy dagger, ‟Athame of the Goddess, strike down my foe!”
The ephemeral dagger stabs at the spider. Gûltar slices into its body as Bandric unleashes more arrows into its thorax. The spider gets a few bites on Gûltar before finally dying. Chalándril moves closer to heal Gûltar. ‟Let’s hurry before our magic expires.”
The Knights enter the next chamber housing a huge spider with large eyes.
‟Now that’s a big spider,” announces Bandric.
The mother of spiders squeals a chittering cry and leaps forward into the front line of the Dungeon Knights. Several celestial badgers drop from the aether onto the spider’s back. They start clawing and biting the spider. Bandric shoots the huge spider as fast as he can. ‟I’m going through a lot of arrows here folks. Can someone pick up a few lying around? I may need them in a few minutes.”
The Mother Spider spits another bolt of web hitting Chalándril, sticking her to the wall. Merimonwë throws a fireball behind the spider burning the back legs and body with a burning fire. The Mother Spider knocks Bandric down with one of her legs.
‟That’s it. I tire of this fight.” Gûltar leaps into the air, spins his ax to the pick side and digs the ax deep into the spider. The weight of his fall forces the ax to rip the side of the Mother Spider open. A flood of spider blood and guts spills out of the opening onto Gûltar.
The Mother Spider collapses and twitches one last time. Gûltar wipes his face clear of the spider guts. Kotyka, help Bandric and Chalándril get free of the spider webs.
Tolok says, ‟The Mother Spider killed my summoned creatures. She was truly a worthy opponent.”
Merimonwë asks, ‟I think the body is collapsing. Wait, her pieces are becoming tiny spiders.”
Chalándril pulls off the last web strings from her body. ‟Everyone back up. This isn’t over yet!”
The Mother Spider’s body completely collapses into a sea of tiny spiders. The swarm of spiders moves towards the Dungeon Knights. Merimonwë steps forward, ‟Everyone, stay back. Burning Hands!”
A sheet of flames bursts forth from her hands. The spider swarm is engulfed in flames. The swarm skitters away from the terrible elf maid. Tolok appears in the room flying high in the air. A puddle of grease appears beneath the swarm. The grease ignites and burns the remaining swarm of spiders.
Tolok exclaims, ‟I believe the Mother Spider is finally defeated. Let us continue our search for the sword.”
-
The webs in the next tunnel begin to fade. They reach an old, wooden wall with a stout door attached. Kotyka inspects the door. She smirks, “Dungeon Knights, we’re back in business. Door. Lock. Underground. We’ve reached a dungeon.”
Gûltar’s eyebrow rises. “Just check it for traps and get the damn thing open.”
Kotyka’s lip quivers. She looks away to focus on the door.
When a door opens, Merimonwë sees a flash of light and then a different door. Merimonwe is alone in the room with the door. The door and wall slide back as if the room is expanding. A mist emerges from the strange door. A silhouette of a strange creature enters the doorway. It raises a strange stick then fires bolts of light at Merimonwë. The bolt blinds her in a flash of light. Then she wakes.
Bandric takes her shoulder and shakes Merimonwë. “It happened again. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I think that’s Jhalek.” She points over to the armored skeleton on the far wall.
The Knights find the old bones of an ancient warrior. The heroes respectfully move the bones and body to a makeshift burial blanket. Chalándril ritually prepares the body and begins to bless it. “May Goddess and God accept this noble warrior’s spirit into their longhouse. May his spirit stop wandering the mortal lands and find his way to the Gate of Skulls.”
A whiff of smoke rises from the brittle bones. It grows and transforms into an incorporeal human in ancient armor. His eyes open and he looks at Chalándril.
“Thank you, priestess. But I must refuse your blessing at this time. The mission must be fulfilled at all costs.” The ancient warrior scans the room. “Six of you noble warriors. Do you seek the Sword?”
Chalándril answers, “Yes. The Monster is back. We seek the sword to defeat the Monster…permanently this time.”
“Then I will help as best I can. Listen well to my words. They will help you in your quest.”
Bandric leans over to Merimonwë and whispers, “What’s the deal with all the ghosts? We sure talk to a lot of ghosts. I hope this isn’t going to be some sort of repeating-theme.”
Merimonwë elbows Bandric in the ribs. She whispers sternly, “Listen.” The incorporeal warrior begins his tale in a somber tone.
“In the beginning, people used copper and stone to craft their tools and weapons. The Holy Ones sent to them a prophet who taught them how to forge bronze. Their tools and weapons would be stronger and able to do more work. But the Fane Ones did not want the people to learn the secret of Bronze, so they planned and designed a foulest plan. Using their baleful magic, the Fane Ones created a powerful monster to slay the people of the Gift. The prophet taught the Way of Bronze under the light of the double moon. The lunar magic allowed the Monster to be sent to destroy the people. The prophet called out to the Holy Ones and stood fast against the mighty Monster. Before the Holy Ones could answer, the Monster slew the prophet and descended upon the people. But the Holy Ones did answer and Lord Thunder was first to act and first to strike. He sent forth his mighty weapon; a bolt of holy lightning streaked through the sky and blasted the Monster into the Great Stone. The Monster was gone and the people rejoiced. They gave hails to the Thunder and gave offerings at his altar. The stone carvers wrote a warning upon the Great Stone and a tribute to the Holy Ones. However, the foul magic of the Fane Ones was strong and the power of the Thunderer could not hold it forever. It happened upon the next double full moon that the Monster awoke and escaped its prison. Quivering, raw, without strength, the Monster plopped out of the Great Stone. Quickly it gathered its strength and set itself upon the people again. Many died that first night. The people hid, fled, or fought in vain. By the third night, the power of the Great Stone drew the Monster back into its prison. The story continued for a time.
When the good King of Old ruled the land, the people sought to gain his aid. Learning of the story, he made an offering to the Thunder and asked for help. Though powerful, the King was also wise and did not face the Monster alone. The good King found favor with Lord Thunder. The Thunderer called upon his sons for one to take on the challenge and protect the lands of the King. Jhalek the Fair accepted his fate and did as his father asked. With a magic Sword forged of strong Bronze and a skin filled with Sacred Mead, he set off to fight the monster. Jhalek arrived just as the monster emerged from the stone. But the distance was great and when he got within striking distance, the Monster regained its strength and battled hard. The magic sword dug deep into the armored hide of the Monster, but it was strong and quick. It fled the field and hid. Jhalek searched for the Monster for years. After a time, he grew old and weak. Knowing that his mission must continue, his oath must be fulfilled, he built this dungeon to hide the Sword. I was his shield man. I elected to remain when my lord returned to the halls of his father.
To retrieve the sword, the brave must fulfill three challenges. A Test of Will. A Test of Strength. And a Test of Community. Once you complete each, the Sword will be revealed and you may leave the dungeon. There are six of you, only one need complete each challenge.”
Chalándril steps forward. “I shall take the Test of Will.”
“So be it.” The ghost raises his hand. Flames instantly engulf the priestess. “You must not cry out. Use your will to overcome the flames.”
Bandric moves towards Chalándril to help. The ghost warns, “Do not help her or the test will fail.”
“But the flames are not hot. Why do they burn?”
“Silence!”
Tears well up in Chalándril’s eyes, her hands clench into fists. The pain makes her body tremble. She falls to her knees and pounds the ground with her fist. The trembling stops, and she stands up. The flames still lick the air about her. But she looks at the ghost and nods. The ghost’s hand lowers and the flames disappear.
“The first test is complete.”
Chalándril collapses into Bandric’s waiting arms. Her skin and cloths smolder. She looks up to the human and says, “I just need a moment, please.”
“Now for the Test of Strength, one of you must lift this stone lid.”
Gûltar steps forward. “I will take the Test of Strength because I am the strongest of my team.”
“So be it.” The dwarf steps up to the stone lid.
“I don’t remember seeing this when we came in here.” Gûltar spits on his hands and rubs them together. He bends his knees and reaches for a grip on the stone. With his face pressed against the large stone, he begins to strain. “It’s a lot heavier than it looks, and it looks heavy.”
Gûltar continues to lift and grip and lift. Sweet beads down his face as the veins in his arms bulge with blood. The dwarf lets out a great shout and flips the stone lid onto its side next to a deep hole. “The second test is complete.”
Bent down with his hands on his knees, the sweaty Gûltar asks, “What’s next?”
The ghost lifts his other hand and points down to the hole. “Who will take the Test of Community? This final test requires a great sacrifice. At the bottom of the pit are sharp spikes. Once they taste the blood of a beating heart, the Sword will appear.”
Kotyka mutters, “I’m the best at falling. I could get down there without taking too much damage. And I could climb out once the Sword appears. Chalándril could heal…”
“NO!” screams Chalándril. Gûltar walks over to the hole and jumps in. They can all hear the sound of his body hitting the spikes and bottom of the pit.
“The third test is complete.”
Bandric holds a crying Chalándril back. “No! Gûltar, you stupid dwarf. What were you thinking?”
The ghost turns to her and says stoically, “He was thinking of the good of the community. Sacrificing his life for the ability to save the town and his friends.” He lifts his arm and points to the stone wall. A portion of the stone wall fades from view revealing a room bathed in light.
At the center of the light is a stone table and a bronze sword floating point down in the air. “Kotyka, why don’t you get in there and check for traps. If it’s clear then take the sword.”
“Uh, okay boss.” She enters the room carefully and looks around. “It looks clear.”
In the distance, a faint voice can be heard. “How long does it take to throw a rope down?”
Merimonwë shouts, “Gûltar?”
“Yes. Now throw down a rope or use your magic and float me out of here.” Bandric anchors the rope and throws one end down. When Gûltar reaches the top of the pit, he says, “The spikes are real and they hurt. I passed out for a bit. When I woke, the spikes were gone and so were the holes in my body. Funny thing, I was still laying in a pool of my own blood.”
He looks over at the room. “So that’s what all this fuss was about.” Gûltar steps in and takes the sword. “Not as good as an ax, but I will use it to slay the Monster.”
--
As the Dungeon Knights leave the cave, they walk towards the Great Stone. The stone begins to glow and hum. “The monster is held in the stone, but one of the runes is missing,” says Tolok. “The monster is not on the stone anymore.”
Merimonwë
“Why is it humming? Is it getting louder? Hey look, the runes are glowing now.”
Bandric
“I have a bad feeling about this. Everyone, run!”
Kotyka “Which way?”
Then the arcs of energy around the Great Stone explode in a ball of electricity sending the heroes into all directions. Each hero lands hard on the ground. The glow fades and the stone looks normal again. The Dungeon Knights wake from unconsciousness and stand up slowly. “How long was I knocked out?”
“I don’t know because I was laying here unconscious.”
Bandric sees large footprints in the ground. “Hey! The Monster is loose and moving.”
Tolok says, “The time of the Monster’s release began while we were unconscious. It may already be in the village.”
Gûltar swings his new sword, “Well let’s get going. I’m dressed for a fight and I’m not going to be denied.”
--
The ghost warrior approaches an altar in the dungeon. “My lord, it is time for your return. Worthy warriors have claimed the sword and seek to finish what you began. I await your arrival.”
--
At the village edge, a huge scaly lizard is moving through the village. Atop its unusual head is four strange eyes. Smoky mist waif out of its large mouth filled with sharp teeth. The Monster’s massive tail swings back and forth smashing walls and overturning wagons. The villagers scream as they flee the terrible sight. The Monster rears up on its hind legs and lets out a raucous roar. Its great mouth is filled with sharp teeth dripping with saliva. Each foot ends with terrible talons so sharp they rend the homes and villagers with a single swing.
Merimonwë, “Didn’t we hear that howl before?”
“Stay focused Meri.” Bandric opens up with a volley of arrows. Arrows are bouncing off. “Oh, my gods! Those should have done something. I hit that thing square in the body. The scales are too tough for my arrows.”
“Tolok, drop some of your friends in there. I need cover while I wade into its reach.”
“Yes, Gûltar.” Tolok casts his spell summoning a large bison who promptly charges the Monster. “I will summon a few more in there. I just need time.”
“Hopefully I won’t need that much time.” Gûltar readies his shield and charges into battle with a sword in hand.
Chalándril readies her mace. “He’s going to need some help. Kotyka and Bandric, join me while you two use your magic as best you can.”
“Fireball!” The Monster is engulfed in a burst of flames. “That should hurt a little” gloats Merimonwë.
The battle is savage. Chalándril and Bandric are hurt by the sharp claws and serpentine tail of the Monster. Gûltar manages to remain unharmed while wounding the Monster with the magic sword. With a final strike of its claws, the summoned bison is knocked dead into Bandric. Chalándril rushes over to pull Bandric free but the body vanishes. Gûltar lays a final blow deep into the bowels of the Monster. With a great thud, it drops to the ground. Wasting no time, Gûltar cuts out the heart of the Monster.
“Chalándril, you’re the priestess. We need to get this thing sacrificed as soon as possible.”
Bandric drops down to a knee and gets out his fire making supplies. “I’m on it. Kotyka, go fetch one of the road altars or anything to can find.”
Merionwe, Kotyka, Tolok, and Bandric quickly build an altar and fire. Chalándril sets up the altar and hastily purifies the area. Villagers look warily at what the Knights are doing and the slain body of the Monster. Whispers travel along the edge of the woods, “They killed the Monster.”
Chalándril begins chanting, “Hail Lord Thunder, Master of the Winds, Lightning Thrower, Foe slayer, and Rainmaker. We offer this heart to you as you instructed your son Jhalek centuries ago. Lord Thunder, accept this offering!”
She throws the heart into the fire. Dark clouds roll into the sky above. Rolling thunder echoes in the distance. A lightning bolt streaks across the sky. The Monster’s heart bursts in an explosive ball of light. The Monster’s body melts into a puddle of brown liquid and seeps into the earth.
Bandric “Well, that seemed to work.”
The villagers return to the remains of the village. The Old Man exclaims, “You did it” He pauses. “Is it done? Did you slay the Monster for good?”
Bandric says, “Yep.”
Gûltar adds, “You should keep the sword in case it has babies or an angry mate.”
Old Man is in shock. “It could have babies? “
“It has a mate?” another shouts.
“We’re doomed. There are more of these Monsters!”
Panic in the village begins. Bandric looks over to Gûltar, “You’re going to get us lynched Gûltar. Let’s get going.”
Gûltar shrugs, “By the Maker’s beard, I’m just covering all the logical possibilities.” The Dungeon Knights retrieve their horses and set off onto the main road…before the panicked villagers force them out.
-
The Dungeon Knights collect their reward from the Baron for the delivery. They set out on the road looking for new adventure. Chalandril says, “This money from the Baron won’t last long. We’ll need to find more work, the sooner the better.”
Merimonwë adds, “My only request is nothing to do with goblins or their stinky wet dogs.”
Kotyka says, “Were the goblins the wolves? Is it weird for a wolf-goblin to ride a wolf?”
Merimonwë, ignoring Kotyka’s rambling, says “Or sick pustule people or ancient monsters or anything else weird.”
“Best to head towards someplace useful,” says Gûltar.
Walking in towards the village, the returning shopkeeper stops. “I couldn’t help but overhear. If you’re looking for work, perhaps you can visit the nearby fishing village. They haven’t brought any fish in for several weeks. I’d like to know what’s going on with the fish or the deliveries.”
-
Meanwhile, at the coast, a fisherman sits in his boat with his net and a fishing pole. A scaly claw reaches out of the water and grabs the edge of a fisherman’s boat. The boat bobbles on the water. The fisherman grabs the sides of the boat to steady it. He sees the scaly hand. His eyes grow wide. He drops his fishing pole and scrambles for an oar. Another strange claw grabs the man. The scaly creature is partially out of the water. The creature gets a better grip on the struggling human. The fisherman screams as he’s pulled off his boat and into the water. The small boat rocks back and forth in the water. Tiny bubbles pop where the man was pulled into the waters. After a minute, the bubbles stop and slick of red liquid takes its place.
What happened to the fisherman? What monster is this? Find out next issue.
=======================================================================
Location: A road near a village by the Thunder Woods
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 6)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 6)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 6)
Kotyka (Half-orc Rogue 6)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 6)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 6)
=======================================================================
“At least you don’t have to sacrifice a virgin.” – Bandric
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The little village of Fort Woodsreach is made up of several buildings including a general store, the tavern, and the main hall. Several other buildings are scattered among the sloping terrain and meandering road. The Dungeon Knights ride towards the center of town with a pronounced drift toward the tavern.
In the midst of the open market, Tolok breaks the silence, “I heard about this village, it has a rare blend of tobacco that I have wanted to try in my pipe for ages. It is based on a very particular species of plant only found in these woods and hills. I most enjoy getting a few samples during our visit.” Tolok smiles. Tolok smells the fragrant tobacco and tea leaves in the market. “Ah yes, I can smell them now. Exquisite.”
Tolok pulls his pony over and dismounts. “I will catch up with you all later. I can not pass this up. This will make a great entry into my travel journals. Quite thrilling actually.”
The tea merchant standing beneath his canopy bows politely. “Greetings sir, I see you are fond of our tea collection. I feel obliged to tell you that a shipment from the northern Starmere region is due in a few days. They have a minty tea leaf of unique quality.”
Tolok’s eyes grow wide with curiosity. “The yellow cloud mint leaf? You can get that here?” The tea merchant nods affirmatively. “We must stay for a few days until the other teas arrive. Please.”
Bandric and the others agree to stay. “Alright Tolok. We’ll stay. Once we deliver the antitoxin to the Fort, we’re done. We might as well take a little rest. It would be unseemly to finish the mission too early. The Baron might expect that kind of efficiency all the time.” The band turns their horses towards the collection of larger buildings including a tall watch tower and trot off.
Unpacked and relaxed, the heroes share a meal on the bench-tables in the town’s modest tavern. Chalándril negotiates with the tavern keep allowing them to sleep in the main room for the night. “The village really doesn’t have any inns or lodgings. Once the other patrons leave, we’ll bed down for the night. We’ll have to tidy up the room a bit as part of our rate.”
Merimonwë wrinkles her nose. “Tidy up? You mean he wants us to clean, like we’re common house staff? You must be joking. Why I…” The elf catches a stern look from Chalándril. “Fine. I’ll help. This is so beneath my station. Grrr.”
The Dungeon Knights settle in on a little used table and make themselves comfortable. The window is open allowing the gentle breeze and sounds to waft in. Wild loud noises echo through the woods. “What is that sound? Is it a dire wolf or feral beast?” asks Kotyka. “This area seems noisier than others.”
The villagers in the tavern look frightened. No one talks. After a bit of looking around, the villagers all take another drink from their mugs. The tavern is quiet except for the crackling of the fire burning in the hearth. The local patrons drink their mead nervously. “Dang nab it!” shouts an old man. “Someone has got to tell the new fellers about the Monster of the Woods.”
The villagers seem to gasp in unison. “Fine, I’ll do it. Dang nab it. The worse that’ll happen is I’ll die. And that be coming soon anyhow.”
Chalándril asks, “What is the Monster of the Woods?”
“You’ve never heard the Legend of the Monster of the Woods?” The Old Man smacks his lips. “Figured as much. New folk don’t know much about these parts. Aye, this is an old tale passed down from grandfathers for generations. It is older than the Ironfinders Kingdom and the old Sumar Empire. Why it might be older than the Elves.”
Merimonwë looks puzzled. “That would be old indeed...and quite unlikely.”
The Old Man walks over and sits next to the fire.
“When the Monster arrived, no one knows. Nor from whence it came. Always it must feed on the blood of those who work the land. For many seasons, it howled and hunted throughout the village at night. In the morning, chewed up bodies litter the lands. The villager’s plea to the old King of Long Ago was answered. King of Long Ago sent stout warriors. Each one lay dead in the morning. Each one killed by the monster.”
“One day, Lord Thunder heard the prayers of the people. He called his sons to his hall in Asgard. ‘One of you must help these people.’
His youngest son, Jhalek the Fair, stepped forward. Father, ‘I shall go.’
‘Brave are you Jhalek’, said Thunder. ‘Take this mighty sword blessed with sacred mead. Use it, my son, to lay the beast low. Once it is slain, take out the heart and offer it up in fire to me, Lord of Thunder. Other weapons will fail to find purchase in the Monster’s flesh. Only the ancient sword can slay the foul beast when it rises from its sleep.’”
“And so it came to pass that Thunder’s half-mortal son, Jhalek came to the village and slew the Monster. The villagers watched from the fields and rushed to help a mortally wounded Jhalek. They carried him to the great hall and tended his wounds. They held a feast in his honor. In the confusion and merriment, he forgot to take the Monster’s heart. He forgot to offer it upon the altar. He lost the magic sword. The Monster’s body disappeared. No one knew to where it went.”
“Now, every few years on the night of a double full moon, the Monster awakens from its slumber deep in the hills. It comes to feed for a fortnight then returns to who knows where. That is the mystery of the Monster of the Woods. No one has lived and seen it. All we can ever do is hide during the night until it returns to its hidden slumber.”
Merimonwë scrunches her nose. “Isn’t it a double full moon now?”
“Aye, it is. The monster is afoot. Beware when you travel at night. Avoid the howling and you will be safe.”
Gûltar scoffs, “We’ve killed many monsters. It doesn’t seem that tough. My ax is made of dwarven steel. Nothing is stronger than that.”
One of the villagers perks up. “You are monster slayers? Old Man, tell them about the Stone and the Howling Cave. Maybe they can stop the curse.”
“What curse?”
The Old Man points his bony finger. “Weren’t you listening? The Monster of the Woods! That is our curse! Do you think a monster stomping around and killing folk isn’t a curse? Pay attention. If you kill the Monster, you will end the curse. Just find the old sword, kill the Monster, and sacrifice its heart to Lord Thunder.”
Bandric thinks, “That sounds easy enough.”
Chalándril pounds her fist on the table. “What? I don’t think we should get involved in another dangerous mission until we complete our first one.”
“But Chal, it is done. We delivered the antitoxin to the fort’s commander. A report back to the Baron isn’t urgent. A few extra days won’t make a difference.”
“What is the Stone?”
The Old Man adds, “It marks the location of the Howling Cave. Upon the Stone are etched magical runes telling the story as I have told you, give or take a few embellishments. The Stone can point you towards the location of the Sword and possibly the Monster too.”
“What is the Howling Cave and why is it dangerous?”
Villager chimes in, “These foreigners are good. They know what to ask and stuff. I think they’ll be able to do it…unlike the others.”
“What?”
The Old Man waves off the tangent and continues explaining, “The Cave is fraught with danger. No one has ever entered and returned alive.” He looks around dramatically. “Including Lord Jhalek. We fear that his long-dead body still remains within the Cave. We assume his lost sword is somewhere in there too. After all, why would he go in there unless he somehow sensed its location?”
Tolok thinks for a moment. “You think the sword and monster are in the cave, yet earlier you said you did not know where either is. Which is it? Lost or in the cave?”
“My grandfather said the sword was taken there by Spirits to protect the sword and keep it close to the Monster. Alas, no one has been able to retrieve the sword from the caves.” The Old Man smacks his lips. “My mouth is dry. If only I had something to drink.”
Captivated by his story, Kotyka offers her drink. “Here take mine.”
A few gulps later, “Ah, thank you, young woman. Where was I? Yes, go into the Howling Cave, search around for the Monster and kill it before it starts its nightly hunt.”
“Can you tell us what’s in the Cave or where this monster sleeps?”
“That I don’t know. No one knows. You’ll just have to use your wits and figure it out on your own. You are monster hunters, after all, right?”
“Technically dungeon explorers but that often includes killing monsters. Anyway, we will get started in the morning. That should give us plenty of time to explore the cave.”
The villagers begin to murmur amongst themselves. Tolok asks, “What are they saying?”
Merimonwë’s ears turn and listen. “They’re betting on us. Very few are taking the survival bet. Most are betting on whether or not we actually enter the cave. Apparently, we’re stupid and cocky enough to try.”
-
A tall stone stands in a small clearing along the hillside. In the early morning shadows, the pictographic runes appear to glow. Nearby, a large cave entrance lies ominously on the face of a rocky hill. Bones of small rodents and such are scattered around the mouth of the cave.
Tolok attempts to read the pictographs. “This seems to be a very old writing system of the ancient people of this land. I think I can make out most of the meaning. The Stone has more of the story. Jhalek did remember about the Monster’s heart and the instructions of his father. But it was too late. The Monster had fled. He recovered the magic sword and vowed that it would be used again to slay the Monster. He built this cave to protect the sword and discover a worthy owner.”
“What do they mean ‘worthy owner’?”
“I do not know.”
Gûltar takes out his ax. “Well, let’s find out.”
The Dungeon Knights peer into the dark cave mouth. A strong wind blows past the cave making a howling sound. Bandric remarks, “I hope that’s just the wind and not baby monsters of the woods.”
-
Merimonwë looks back at the cave entrance. It looks like a dusty rectangle of light in the dark, rocky tunnel. Isolated patches of plants and roots are scattered along the edges of the wall. Strings and strands of spider webs litter the corners and ceiling of the tunnel. With each uneven step, the strands of spider webs grow thicker and thicker. Kotyka leads the way into the darkness. She uses her short sword like a machete in a web jungle. The thick, sticky strands begin to bind her hand to the sword. Kotyka whispers, “They’re getting thicker. And I don’t mean webs are everywhere. I mean the strands are thicker than string now. And very, very sticky.”
The natural tunnel slopes down into the hillside in a random, zig-zag path. The tunnel is wide in some sections, much thinner in others, but always dark and thick with webs. Merimonwë’s lantern can barely cast light beyond Kotyka. Yet, the Dungeon Knights press on.
Kotyka says, “It opens up further ahead. There may a few other exits in the next chamber.”
The strands are now as thick as fingers, a few as thick as rope. Tolok slips on the uneven, rocky floor and becomes entangled in the thick webs. He struggles against the sticky adhesive, failing to pull himself free.
Bandric orders, “Tolok, stop squirming. You’ll send vibrations along the strands and attract the spider that made this. By the size of these strands, I’m guessing it’s really big.
“Just get me off this thing.”
Gûltar and Bandric finish cutting the gnome out with their knives. “Whew!” exclaims Tolok.
“Guys,” Kotyka points into the darkness. “We have company.” Merimonwë points the lantern up to the ceiling. The multifaceted eyes of several large spiders stare back at the group. They begin to move their long legs, continuing to advance. The chittering of spider voices and clicking of carapace legs sends chills down the Dungeon Knights’ spine.
-
One of the spiders spits out a bolt of webbing that knocks the lantern out of Merimonwë’s hand, adhering her arm to a nearby wall. The lantern lands on its side with a thud. Merimonwë screams, “My hand is stuck. It’s going to be difficult to case fireball like this.”
Bandric adds, “I could use a little more light. My human eyes don’t work so well in the dark.”
A splatter of fluid hits Bandric in the face. Gûltar swings his ax back to his shoulder. Spider guts drip off Bandric’s face. “You’re right about that. Oh, there’s another one behind you.”
Tolok begins his spellcasting as Kotyka deftly tumbles up and over a spider. She lands quietly and stabs the large spider in the thorax. It spins and tries to bite the half-orc with its mandibles. Nimbly avoiding the attack, Kotyka counters with a vicious slash along the large abdomen, releasing a stream of gooey innards.
Meanwhile, Chalándril continues to use her mace to beat the cephalothorax of the other spider. Gûltar continues his spider slaying swings with reckless abandon. “Gûltar stay close so we don’t get lost in the dark. And so I can heal you if you get hurt.”
“Chal, dwarves don’t get lost in tunnels.”
“I wasn’t talking about you. I said ‘we’!”
Bandric picks up the lantern and uses his knife to cut Merimonwë free. “I’m no use in the dark. At least you can see better and do a bit of magic.”
Merimonwë smiles, “You’re pretty cute for a human.”
The elf maiden casts a light spell into the room. The spiders cringe at the sudden appearance of light. “And I’m a team player. Go waste some arrows!”
Bandric puts the lantern down, readies his bow and gets an arrow knocked. “And you’re pretty hot for a hot elf chick.”
Several large dogs appear summoned by Tolok. “Help my friends against these spiders.” The dogs nod their heads and sprint off to surround a spider next to Kotyka and Gûltar. With light and reinforcements, the heroes are able to kill most of the giant spiders and send wounded ones skittering into the dark corners of the cavern.
“Let’s get moving before other spiders return.” The Dungeon Knights set out down a seemingly long tunnel on the left. As Kotyka and Gûltar struggle with the uneven tunnels and clear thick webs, Merimonwë starts getting dizzy.
One moment, she’s looking down a dark cavern illuminated with flickering light. The next moment, she’s outside on a cloudy or smoky field. Flashes of light bring her back and forth between the two visions. The desolate field extends all about her. At least the flashing stopped. Merimonwë sees a cloudy day filled with smoke and nearby explosions. Dirt clods and ash spray all about her. She is looking at Gûltar and Kotyka. Her two friends look different, yet the same.
They are in a trench filled with battle weary human and dwarven warriors. Flash. Merimonwë is running. Explosions surround her. Plods of turf and dirt spray her with each explosion. Beyond the cloud of smoke and falling dirt, she sees the silhouette of a strange creature with many glowing eyes. It raises its strange, long arm. The tip of the stick begins to glow. Flash. She’s back in the dark tunnel with her friends.
Bandric nudges her. “Are you all right? You blanked out there for a moment.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Gotta clear my head for a bit.” Merimonwë rubs her face with her hand. “Must be the stuffy conditions here.”
Gûltar grumbles, “Looks like we found another group of residents.”
Merimonwë snarks, “This time, I’m starting the fight. Fireball!”
The far end of the cavern is filled with the blinding light and fire of a large fireball explosion. The charred bodies of spiders crumble to the floor. Gûltar steps up and nudges one. “Lass, you baked them well.”
Bandric draws his hunting knife. “We use to eat grilled spiders back home. Let’s carve up a few pieces for eating later. Hate to waste all that fine magical cooking.”
-
Bandric begins to carve up one of the spiders, a large bolt of web hits him in the side sending the human sprawling to the ground. Two more spiders enter from the far tunnel. Tolok activates his beetle cloak and lifts off the ground. He begins to cast a spell. Chalándril turns towards the tunnel, ‟It looks like the fight isn’t over yet. Dungeon Knights, attack!”
Gûltar and Kotyka engage one of the spiders. The spray of spider guts and dwarven blood litter the dark cavern. Another bolt of web nearly hits Kotyka, but her nimble form dodges the dangerous shot. Chalándril helps Bandric up. ‟Get up, we need your bow Ranger.”
Bandric shoots the wounded spider, stopping its advance on the dwarf. The second spider moves in to attack Bandric. Another bolt of web shoots through the tunnel hitting Gûltar’s shield. ‟Damn, we need to stop the creature in the next room!”
Chalándril summon a holy dagger, ‟Athame of the Goddess, strike down my foe!”
The ephemeral dagger stabs at the spider. Gûltar slices into its body as Bandric unleashes more arrows into its thorax. The spider gets a few bites on Gûltar before finally dying. Chalándril moves closer to heal Gûltar. ‟Let’s hurry before our magic expires.”
The Knights enter the next chamber housing a huge spider with large eyes.
‟Now that’s a big spider,” announces Bandric.
The mother of spiders squeals a chittering cry and leaps forward into the front line of the Dungeon Knights. Several celestial badgers drop from the aether onto the spider’s back. They start clawing and biting the spider. Bandric shoots the huge spider as fast as he can. ‟I’m going through a lot of arrows here folks. Can someone pick up a few lying around? I may need them in a few minutes.”
The Mother Spider spits another bolt of web hitting Chalándril, sticking her to the wall. Merimonwë throws a fireball behind the spider burning the back legs and body with a burning fire. The Mother Spider knocks Bandric down with one of her legs.
‟That’s it. I tire of this fight.” Gûltar leaps into the air, spins his ax to the pick side and digs the ax deep into the spider. The weight of his fall forces the ax to rip the side of the Mother Spider open. A flood of spider blood and guts spills out of the opening onto Gûltar.
The Mother Spider collapses and twitches one last time. Gûltar wipes his face clear of the spider guts. Kotyka, help Bandric and Chalándril get free of the spider webs.
Tolok says, ‟The Mother Spider killed my summoned creatures. She was truly a worthy opponent.”
Merimonwë asks, ‟I think the body is collapsing. Wait, her pieces are becoming tiny spiders.”
Chalándril pulls off the last web strings from her body. ‟Everyone back up. This isn’t over yet!”
The Mother Spider’s body completely collapses into a sea of tiny spiders. The swarm of spiders moves towards the Dungeon Knights. Merimonwë steps forward, ‟Everyone, stay back. Burning Hands!”
A sheet of flames bursts forth from her hands. The spider swarm is engulfed in flames. The swarm skitters away from the terrible elf maid. Tolok appears in the room flying high in the air. A puddle of grease appears beneath the swarm. The grease ignites and burns the remaining swarm of spiders.
Tolok exclaims, ‟I believe the Mother Spider is finally defeated. Let us continue our search for the sword.”
-
The webs in the next tunnel begin to fade. They reach an old, wooden wall with a stout door attached. Kotyka inspects the door. She smirks, “Dungeon Knights, we’re back in business. Door. Lock. Underground. We’ve reached a dungeon.”
Gûltar’s eyebrow rises. “Just check it for traps and get the damn thing open.”
Kotyka’s lip quivers. She looks away to focus on the door.
When a door opens, Merimonwë sees a flash of light and then a different door. Merimonwe is alone in the room with the door. The door and wall slide back as if the room is expanding. A mist emerges from the strange door. A silhouette of a strange creature enters the doorway. It raises a strange stick then fires bolts of light at Merimonwë. The bolt blinds her in a flash of light. Then she wakes.
Bandric takes her shoulder and shakes Merimonwë. “It happened again. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I think that’s Jhalek.” She points over to the armored skeleton on the far wall.
The Knights find the old bones of an ancient warrior. The heroes respectfully move the bones and body to a makeshift burial blanket. Chalándril ritually prepares the body and begins to bless it. “May Goddess and God accept this noble warrior’s spirit into their longhouse. May his spirit stop wandering the mortal lands and find his way to the Gate of Skulls.”
A whiff of smoke rises from the brittle bones. It grows and transforms into an incorporeal human in ancient armor. His eyes open and he looks at Chalándril.
“Thank you, priestess. But I must refuse your blessing at this time. The mission must be fulfilled at all costs.” The ancient warrior scans the room. “Six of you noble warriors. Do you seek the Sword?”
Chalándril answers, “Yes. The Monster is back. We seek the sword to defeat the Monster…permanently this time.”
“Then I will help as best I can. Listen well to my words. They will help you in your quest.”
Bandric leans over to Merimonwë and whispers, “What’s the deal with all the ghosts? We sure talk to a lot of ghosts. I hope this isn’t going to be some sort of repeating-theme.”
Merimonwë elbows Bandric in the ribs. She whispers sternly, “Listen.” The incorporeal warrior begins his tale in a somber tone.
“In the beginning, people used copper and stone to craft their tools and weapons. The Holy Ones sent to them a prophet who taught them how to forge bronze. Their tools and weapons would be stronger and able to do more work. But the Fane Ones did not want the people to learn the secret of Bronze, so they planned and designed a foulest plan. Using their baleful magic, the Fane Ones created a powerful monster to slay the people of the Gift. The prophet taught the Way of Bronze under the light of the double moon. The lunar magic allowed the Monster to be sent to destroy the people. The prophet called out to the Holy Ones and stood fast against the mighty Monster. Before the Holy Ones could answer, the Monster slew the prophet and descended upon the people. But the Holy Ones did answer and Lord Thunder was first to act and first to strike. He sent forth his mighty weapon; a bolt of holy lightning streaked through the sky and blasted the Monster into the Great Stone. The Monster was gone and the people rejoiced. They gave hails to the Thunder and gave offerings at his altar. The stone carvers wrote a warning upon the Great Stone and a tribute to the Holy Ones. However, the foul magic of the Fane Ones was strong and the power of the Thunderer could not hold it forever. It happened upon the next double full moon that the Monster awoke and escaped its prison. Quivering, raw, without strength, the Monster plopped out of the Great Stone. Quickly it gathered its strength and set itself upon the people again. Many died that first night. The people hid, fled, or fought in vain. By the third night, the power of the Great Stone drew the Monster back into its prison. The story continued for a time.
When the good King of Old ruled the land, the people sought to gain his aid. Learning of the story, he made an offering to the Thunder and asked for help. Though powerful, the King was also wise and did not face the Monster alone. The good King found favor with Lord Thunder. The Thunderer called upon his sons for one to take on the challenge and protect the lands of the King. Jhalek the Fair accepted his fate and did as his father asked. With a magic Sword forged of strong Bronze and a skin filled with Sacred Mead, he set off to fight the monster. Jhalek arrived just as the monster emerged from the stone. But the distance was great and when he got within striking distance, the Monster regained its strength and battled hard. The magic sword dug deep into the armored hide of the Monster, but it was strong and quick. It fled the field and hid. Jhalek searched for the Monster for years. After a time, he grew old and weak. Knowing that his mission must continue, his oath must be fulfilled, he built this dungeon to hide the Sword. I was his shield man. I elected to remain when my lord returned to the halls of his father.
To retrieve the sword, the brave must fulfill three challenges. A Test of Will. A Test of Strength. And a Test of Community. Once you complete each, the Sword will be revealed and you may leave the dungeon. There are six of you, only one need complete each challenge.”
Chalándril steps forward. “I shall take the Test of Will.”
“So be it.” The ghost raises his hand. Flames instantly engulf the priestess. “You must not cry out. Use your will to overcome the flames.”
Bandric moves towards Chalándril to help. The ghost warns, “Do not help her or the test will fail.”
“But the flames are not hot. Why do they burn?”
“Silence!”
Tears well up in Chalándril’s eyes, her hands clench into fists. The pain makes her body tremble. She falls to her knees and pounds the ground with her fist. The trembling stops, and she stands up. The flames still lick the air about her. But she looks at the ghost and nods. The ghost’s hand lowers and the flames disappear.
“The first test is complete.”
Chalándril collapses into Bandric’s waiting arms. Her skin and cloths smolder. She looks up to the human and says, “I just need a moment, please.”
“Now for the Test of Strength, one of you must lift this stone lid.”
Gûltar steps forward. “I will take the Test of Strength because I am the strongest of my team.”
“So be it.” The dwarf steps up to the stone lid.
“I don’t remember seeing this when we came in here.” Gûltar spits on his hands and rubs them together. He bends his knees and reaches for a grip on the stone. With his face pressed against the large stone, he begins to strain. “It’s a lot heavier than it looks, and it looks heavy.”
Gûltar continues to lift and grip and lift. Sweet beads down his face as the veins in his arms bulge with blood. The dwarf lets out a great shout and flips the stone lid onto its side next to a deep hole. “The second test is complete.”
Bent down with his hands on his knees, the sweaty Gûltar asks, “What’s next?”
The ghost lifts his other hand and points down to the hole. “Who will take the Test of Community? This final test requires a great sacrifice. At the bottom of the pit are sharp spikes. Once they taste the blood of a beating heart, the Sword will appear.”
Kotyka mutters, “I’m the best at falling. I could get down there without taking too much damage. And I could climb out once the Sword appears. Chalándril could heal…”
“NO!” screams Chalándril. Gûltar walks over to the hole and jumps in. They can all hear the sound of his body hitting the spikes and bottom of the pit.
“The third test is complete.”
Bandric holds a crying Chalándril back. “No! Gûltar, you stupid dwarf. What were you thinking?”
The ghost turns to her and says stoically, “He was thinking of the good of the community. Sacrificing his life for the ability to save the town and his friends.” He lifts his arm and points to the stone wall. A portion of the stone wall fades from view revealing a room bathed in light.
At the center of the light is a stone table and a bronze sword floating point down in the air. “Kotyka, why don’t you get in there and check for traps. If it’s clear then take the sword.”
“Uh, okay boss.” She enters the room carefully and looks around. “It looks clear.”
In the distance, a faint voice can be heard. “How long does it take to throw a rope down?”
Merimonwë shouts, “Gûltar?”
“Yes. Now throw down a rope or use your magic and float me out of here.” Bandric anchors the rope and throws one end down. When Gûltar reaches the top of the pit, he says, “The spikes are real and they hurt. I passed out for a bit. When I woke, the spikes were gone and so were the holes in my body. Funny thing, I was still laying in a pool of my own blood.”
He looks over at the room. “So that’s what all this fuss was about.” Gûltar steps in and takes the sword. “Not as good as an ax, but I will use it to slay the Monster.”
--
As the Dungeon Knights leave the cave, they walk towards the Great Stone. The stone begins to glow and hum. “The monster is held in the stone, but one of the runes is missing,” says Tolok. “The monster is not on the stone anymore.”
Merimonwë
“Why is it humming? Is it getting louder? Hey look, the runes are glowing now.”
Bandric
“I have a bad feeling about this. Everyone, run!”
Kotyka “Which way?”
Then the arcs of energy around the Great Stone explode in a ball of electricity sending the heroes into all directions. Each hero lands hard on the ground. The glow fades and the stone looks normal again. The Dungeon Knights wake from unconsciousness and stand up slowly. “How long was I knocked out?”
“I don’t know because I was laying here unconscious.”
Bandric sees large footprints in the ground. “Hey! The Monster is loose and moving.”
Tolok says, “The time of the Monster’s release began while we were unconscious. It may already be in the village.”
Gûltar swings his new sword, “Well let’s get going. I’m dressed for a fight and I’m not going to be denied.”
--
The ghost warrior approaches an altar in the dungeon. “My lord, it is time for your return. Worthy warriors have claimed the sword and seek to finish what you began. I await your arrival.”
--
At the village edge, a huge scaly lizard is moving through the village. Atop its unusual head is four strange eyes. Smoky mist waif out of its large mouth filled with sharp teeth. The Monster’s massive tail swings back and forth smashing walls and overturning wagons. The villagers scream as they flee the terrible sight. The Monster rears up on its hind legs and lets out a raucous roar. Its great mouth is filled with sharp teeth dripping with saliva. Each foot ends with terrible talons so sharp they rend the homes and villagers with a single swing.
Merimonwë, “Didn’t we hear that howl before?”
“Stay focused Meri.” Bandric opens up with a volley of arrows. Arrows are bouncing off. “Oh, my gods! Those should have done something. I hit that thing square in the body. The scales are too tough for my arrows.”
“Tolok, drop some of your friends in there. I need cover while I wade into its reach.”
“Yes, Gûltar.” Tolok casts his spell summoning a large bison who promptly charges the Monster. “I will summon a few more in there. I just need time.”
“Hopefully I won’t need that much time.” Gûltar readies his shield and charges into battle with a sword in hand.
Chalándril readies her mace. “He’s going to need some help. Kotyka and Bandric, join me while you two use your magic as best you can.”
“Fireball!” The Monster is engulfed in a burst of flames. “That should hurt a little” gloats Merimonwë.
The battle is savage. Chalándril and Bandric are hurt by the sharp claws and serpentine tail of the Monster. Gûltar manages to remain unharmed while wounding the Monster with the magic sword. With a final strike of its claws, the summoned bison is knocked dead into Bandric. Chalándril rushes over to pull Bandric free but the body vanishes. Gûltar lays a final blow deep into the bowels of the Monster. With a great thud, it drops to the ground. Wasting no time, Gûltar cuts out the heart of the Monster.
“Chalándril, you’re the priestess. We need to get this thing sacrificed as soon as possible.”
Bandric drops down to a knee and gets out his fire making supplies. “I’m on it. Kotyka, go fetch one of the road altars or anything to can find.”
Merionwe, Kotyka, Tolok, and Bandric quickly build an altar and fire. Chalándril sets up the altar and hastily purifies the area. Villagers look warily at what the Knights are doing and the slain body of the Monster. Whispers travel along the edge of the woods, “They killed the Monster.”
Chalándril begins chanting, “Hail Lord Thunder, Master of the Winds, Lightning Thrower, Foe slayer, and Rainmaker. We offer this heart to you as you instructed your son Jhalek centuries ago. Lord Thunder, accept this offering!”
She throws the heart into the fire. Dark clouds roll into the sky above. Rolling thunder echoes in the distance. A lightning bolt streaks across the sky. The Monster’s heart bursts in an explosive ball of light. The Monster’s body melts into a puddle of brown liquid and seeps into the earth.
Bandric “Well, that seemed to work.”
The villagers return to the remains of the village. The Old Man exclaims, “You did it” He pauses. “Is it done? Did you slay the Monster for good?”
Bandric says, “Yep.”
Gûltar adds, “You should keep the sword in case it has babies or an angry mate.”
Old Man is in shock. “It could have babies? “
“It has a mate?” another shouts.
“We’re doomed. There are more of these Monsters!”
Panic in the village begins. Bandric looks over to Gûltar, “You’re going to get us lynched Gûltar. Let’s get going.”
Gûltar shrugs, “By the Maker’s beard, I’m just covering all the logical possibilities.” The Dungeon Knights retrieve their horses and set off onto the main road…before the panicked villagers force them out.
-
The Dungeon Knights collect their reward from the Baron for the delivery. They set out on the road looking for new adventure. Chalandril says, “This money from the Baron won’t last long. We’ll need to find more work, the sooner the better.”
Merimonwë adds, “My only request is nothing to do with goblins or their stinky wet dogs.”
Kotyka says, “Were the goblins the wolves? Is it weird for a wolf-goblin to ride a wolf?”
Merimonwë, ignoring Kotyka’s rambling, says “Or sick pustule people or ancient monsters or anything else weird.”
“Best to head towards someplace useful,” says Gûltar.
Walking in towards the village, the returning shopkeeper stops. “I couldn’t help but overhear. If you’re looking for work, perhaps you can visit the nearby fishing village. They haven’t brought any fish in for several weeks. I’d like to know what’s going on with the fish or the deliveries.”
-
Meanwhile, at the coast, a fisherman sits in his boat with his net and a fishing pole. A scaly claw reaches out of the water and grabs the edge of a fisherman’s boat. The boat bobbles on the water. The fisherman grabs the sides of the boat to steady it. He sees the scaly hand. His eyes grow wide. He drops his fishing pole and scrambles for an oar. Another strange claw grabs the man. The scaly creature is partially out of the water. The creature gets a better grip on the struggling human. The fisherman screams as he’s pulled off his boat and into the water. The small boat rocks back and forth in the water. Tiny bubbles pop where the man was pulled into the waters. After a minute, the bubbles stop and slick of red liquid takes its place.
What happened to the fisherman? What monster is this? Find out next issue.
=======================================================================
Location: A road near a village by the Thunder Woods
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 6)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 6)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 6)
Kotyka (Half-orc Rogue 6)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 6)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 6)
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“At least you don’t have to sacrifice a virgin.” – Bandric
=======================================================================
Monday, February 12, 2018
Issue 020: Green Spot Fever
The local Baron’s daughter has come down with a severe fever. Green pustules have appeared all over the young girl’s body. As each day passes, she grows weaker and weaker. The Baron is desperate for help. The ailment resists the curative magic of the court priests and healers. Now it is up to stalwart adventurers to locate a cure before this plague spreads beyond the castle’s walls. (Part Two of the Ill Intent series)
A call is put out for adventurers to help the Baron in his time of need. For those who can read, a scroll is posted on the job board at the Adventurers’ Guild House. For those who can not, the town crier reads the following:
“Adventurers wanted to perform an important, confidential mission for our valiant Baron. Inquire at the front gate of the baronial keep. Must provide own equipment and supplies. Compensation provided for successful work only.”
The line of ruffians and scoundrels wrapped around the keep walls and along the neighboring buildings. Among the hundreds of applicants, a band of six called the Dungeon Knights wait impatiently for their turn.
“We’ve been in this line for hours. I gotta pee.” Bandric exclaims.
Chalándril looks at him sharply, “Hold it. We’re at the front of the line.”
A group of four individuals walks away from the desk allowing Chalándril and friends to step up.
The desk clerk looks up dismissive, flips a few papers around. The clerk asks, “What are your qualifications?”
Chalándril responds, “We wiped out the goblin tribes of the Goblin Hills several days ago.”
Clerk’s eyebrow rises. “I see. The door to your right, please.”
The Dungeon Knights enter a smaller room. A dignified, well-dressed man steps forward and hands Chalándril some papers. The man bows, “I work for the Baron. Please sit down while we talk.”
The minister sits on a well-made chair. The heroes find two wood benches to rest their butts. “The Baron is in urgent need of particularly crafty and deadly warriors who will root out and extinguish rebellious cults who threaten the safety and security of this land. Can the Baron count on your discretion and, shall we say, thoroughness?”
Tolok nods affirmation.
“Excellent. Here is a map noting the last known sightings of these cultists, according to the Baron’s informants. These vile cultists are spreading a rebellious disease both literally and figuratively among the peasants of this barony. Their infectious message of disobedience and self-empowerment must be put down. I must add that time is of the essence. The faster you can complete your mission, the sooner we can stop the spread of their diseased message. The Baron wants the cult’s antidote for the illness they are spreading. It has spread into the Baron’s very keep. A cure must be had as soon as possible.”
The minister sigh, ‟The other teams are sent on missions to collect ingredients for powerful curative elixirs. We hope their missions are successful too. However, you are charged with the most important goal, elimination of this cancer of the Barony. I can offer you no other information because I have none to provide.”
Bandric begins to speak, but the minister interrupts. “Best you be on your way. This mission is urgent.”
The minister raises his eyebrow.
Chalándril speaks, “Yes, we’ll be on our way. Everything here looks good and in order. No sense in wasting time or negotiating pay.”
The minister merely rolls his eyes. A barely audible sigh escapes his lips.
-
As the Dungeon Knights make their way out of the keep, they overhear a few guards talking.
“The baron’s daughter looks awful with all those puss filled green warts on her face. Yuck!”
“Well, the Healer and Alchemist concocted a list of ingredients for one of their new salves to help the girl.”
“Why didn’t they just fetch the priest to cure the girl?”
“They did, stupid. Don’t you think they tried that? It didn’t work. That’s why all these mercenaries are here, to gather all the ingredients.”
Tolok says to his friends, “It seems this is less a fool’s errand and more of a life-saving mission.”
Chalándril responds, “Then we must hurry. The girl shouldn’t suffer any more than she has too.”
-
The towers of the town’s keep are beyond sight. Tall trees and verdant bushes fill the surrounding area. The Dungeon Knights march on for hours.
Kotyka pulls her veil tighter. “The Vizier gave us this map to the last sightings of the suspected cultists. According to the map, they should be around this general location.”
Bandric replies, “This area is beyond most of the farms. Perhaps they are hiding amongst the local caves or in the woods.”
Merimonwë’s ears twitch. “I hear something.”
A low, haunting howl echoes in the forest. Terrified, Kotyka ducks into a knot of roots under a tree. The others draw their weapons and look around. Merimonwë’s ears twitch and turn in all directions. “I think there are more than one of…whatever it is.”
Bandric nocks his arrow and pulls. “I see three. Two small and a pack leader.”
The shadowy brush, a canine creature leaps out towards Bandric. Around its head is a mane of barbed quills. Ready for the onslaught, Bandric fires two arrows into the chest of the beast. Wounded, its attack fails to connect with the woodsman. Another beast leaps out to attack Merimonwë. However, Gûltar’s ax meets it mid-air cutting deep into the flesh. With a dying act, the porcupine-wolf bites the elf’s arm and a quill from its mane latches onto Merimonwë. She cries out in pain.
Chalándril brings her mace down on the head of the surviving porcupine-wolf. The skull smashes in an explosion of blood and brains. “Bandric, don’t worry about this one.”
A very large porcupine-wolf step out of the brush. Its muscles ripple in the shadowy light. The porcupine-wolf’s teeth glisten in the snarling jaw. The rubble of its growl is so low, it can be felt by all the Dungeon Knights. Bandric slowly taps Gûltar on the shoulder and says, “I think it’s your turn again.”
The dwarf’s eyes squint and look at Bandric. “My turn, eh?”
Noticing the distraction, the large porcupine-wolf leaps towards Gûltar. Bandric steps back and unloads an arrow. Tolok casts his magic missile spell, which zips off and unerringly finds its mark. Chalándril is too far to react while Merimonwë’s spell sends flames at the porcupine-wolf. Almost unfazed by the series of attack, the porcupine-wolf lands atop Gûltar’s shield. The porcupine-wolf’s quills pepper his shield. With its large jaws, the porcupine-wolf bites down on Gûltar and knocks him to the ground. The two combatants both regain their feet and charge each other again.
With a masterful swing of his ax, Gûltar lops off its head. The head wiggles and writhes as blood escape from the exposed neck. The porcupine-wolf’s body makes one final twitch and then falls limp. The dwarf stands above the body waiting…sweating. Bandric makes the announcement, “I think it is dead.”
Gûltar shakes his ax, whipping off the blood and guts. ‟Eh, you better skin the varmint so we can sell the pelt. It’d fetch a good price.”
‟What about the gaping ax holes?”
‟Let Tolok figure that out.”
-
The Dungeon Knights continue their search in the area. Bandric signals his companions. ‟Over here. Look Someone camped here a few days ago. There’s still warmth in the fire they covered up. Let’s search this area for anything they left behind.”
Kotyka finds a broken statue partially buried in the refuse pit. ‟This looks familiar. Tolok, you recognize this right? You have the best memory.”
The gnome examines the piece. Tolok strokes his chin hairs. ‟Yes, I do recall this form of idol from a previous adventure in these parts. It was the Forbidden Caves. You remember, the time we fought the beetle riders?”
After a few more minutes searching the campsite and immediate area, Chalándril decides to move on. She sends the group back to the caves. ‟Let’s continue this investigation at the Forbidden Caves. Bandric, do you remember the way?”
‟Yes, it’s not far.”
-
A deer is grazing in the woods near some brush. Its ears twitch. The head snaps up and looks towards the Dungeon Knights. For a moment, it is completely still. Then in a flash, it leaps and runs off into the woods.
The six adventurers march through the game trail towards the cavernous hills. Kotyka and Bandric lead the way. As they approach the Forbidden Caves, Bandric moves forward with cautious steps looking for guards or sentinels on watch. Bandric’s hand rises. His hand forms a fist. The Knights stop moving. Bandric watches the sentinel at the top of the hill for a few minutes. Bandric leans over and whispers to Kotyka. The half-orc nods. Both head out into the brush around the hill, going into different directions. Both moved without making a sound.
Chalándril watches the sentinel while she waits for the other two to return. Merimonwë and Kotyka have vacant stares and open mouths. Tolok is lost in thought as he contemplates magical formulas. The human sentinel grabs his neck, reaching for the arrow and blood. Another arrow pierces his chest. The sentinel falls forward off his perch to the ground.
Before his body settles to the ground, a robed figure grabs the body and pulls it into the brush. The squishy sound of metal entering flesh repeats several times. Kotyka’s robed form emerges from the brush. She signals to Chalándril to come towards her position.
As Merimonwë, Gûltar, Tolok, and Chalándril reach Kotyka’s position, Kotyka says in a soft voice, ‟Bandric thinks there’s another sentinel. We’ll check it out while you wait here. Wait for my signal before you move to the next location.”
Tolok raises his hand. ‟Where is that location?”
Another body drops from the hilly perch. With great speed, Kotyka takes out her dagger and stabs the body several times. Merimonwë lets out a shriek before she muffles it with her hands.
‟I think,” adds Kotyka, ‟this could be the signal.” Kotyka drags the body into the bushes and covers the body with a few branches. ‟Let’s move.”
-
The Knights walk the familiar path to the mouth of the once hidden cave. Bandric joins them at the cave entrance. He says, ‟Someone cleared out a lot of the underbrush and the immediate area. It’s not hard to find, and the caves look populated. There’s rubbish pit a few yards off.”
Bandric points into the deep cave. ‟Gultar and Kotyka, you take the lead. It’s dark in there.”
Kotyka and Gûltar walk forward. Bandric puts a magic light stick in his shoulder holster and follows the other three into the tunnel. Kotyka shouts, ‟There! Something’s coming down the tunnel!”
‟Aye. He’s a big fella,” remarks Gûltar as he readies his ax.
The lumbering humanoid figure looks like a poorly stitched rag doll made of body pieces and miscolored scrap sections of skin. The stitch lines are swollen and festering with puss and rot. The creature smells of putrid flesh and decay.
The fleshy golem’s large fists are raised high over its head as it enters the light. Bandric remarks, ‟Wasn’t he here the last time?”
Gûltar barks, ‟Well, this relationship is going to end the same way.”
The muscled dwarf swings his mighty ax into the fleshy opponent. The creature opens its mouth and spews a line of putrid water across Gûltar and Kotyka.
‟Agh! Some of that slop got in my mouth.” cries Gûltar.
Tolok warns, ‟Be careful, it might have a poisonous effect or something else equally as foul.” The gnomish wizard casts Grease underneath the mismatched footed golem. The flesh behemoth falls to the ground.
Chalándril exclaims, ‟Remember, magic won’t work on the golem directly.”
‟Damage!” Gûltar barks, ‟Lots and lots of damage kills this thing.” The angry dwarf stakes another swing at the creature. Bandric unloads several arrows into its putrid flesh.
‟Cough,” Kotyka gags, ‟It smells really bad. I can’t stay close to it and focus. I think I’m going to puke.”
‟Gultar!” screams Merimonwë, ‟Get out of the way. She throws a vial of alchemical fire onto the grease-covered golem. It bursts into flames.
The golem strikes Gûltar a few more times before the burly dwarf delivers the final blow. Rotted flesh and innards pour onto the cave floor. The smell gets worse.
Chalándril orders the others, ‟Let’s move further in. I’m sure the others heard this fight. We can’t give them a chance to escape.”
Along the way, the Dungeon Knights encounter local cultist and former farmers or tradesmen. They feebly try to stop the advances of the well-armed Knights, falling bloody and dead at Gûltar’s feet. ‟Tis a waste of good people.”
The Dungeon Knights make their way to the former shrine. There, they find a mask-wearing man wearing tattered robes. In front of him are several men with weapons. Bandric remarks, ‟These guys look better trained for fighting.”
A ray shoots out of the masked man’s hand. Gûltar deflects it with his shield. The masked man and his bodyguards are momentarily engulfed in a ball of flames and fire. When the fire subsides, three arrows hit the masked man in the chest.
One of the guards yells, ‟Doctor Pox! Quickly, cover him now. We need to get him out of here.”
Gûltar pushes past the guard and engages Doctor Pox with ax and shield. The guards surround the dwarf, but one guard collapses to the ground. Kotyka stands behind him with a bloody sword in hand.
Doctor Pox touches Gûltar on the head and yells, ‟Contagion!”. Gûltar stumbles to one knee. His shield drops from his arm. The surly dwarf looks up at the tattered robed priest and raises an eyebrow.
‟I cast Steel Ax!” Gûltar stands up, puts two hands on his ax, swing across the priest. Blood splatters everywhere. The force of the blow sends the priest stumbling backward. ‟Cough. I don’t feel so well.”
The guard hits Gûltar from behind with his sword. Gûltar hunches over from the blow. Two celestial badgers grab on to each of the guard’s legs. The Badgers begin to pull and bit the guard. He screams from the pain. Bandric’s arrow to the head silences his agony.
In the back of the shrine, a peasant hides curled up in the corner. ‟Please don’t hurt me. I don’t want to die.”
Chalándril approaches the woman, ‟We won’t kill you. Just tell us the truth to our questions.”
‟I swear, please let me live.”
Chalándril begins, ‟Are there more of you and your group?”
‟This is most of us. The others like to hang out at the Painted Pig in town.”
‟Who is your leader?”
‟Doctor Pox is our leader.”
Chalándril continues, ‟Do you have an antidote to the green spot fever?”
The woman begins to cry, ‟No, I don’t know. We have some antidotes here. I think Doctor Pox has something in his notes.”
‟Children have the green spot fever. Children are dying. Tell us if there’s an antidote and where it is!”
‟Gods no! Not children. He said we wouldn’t hurt children. There! The cure is in there in the jars.” She begins to sob more. The woman grabs a knife from the table and slits her throat. With blood gurgling out of her mouth, ‟Not the children.”
Her lifeless body slumps to the floor.
-
Back in town, the Dungeon Knights overhear conversations among the townspeople. “I heard the little princess is gravely ill. The medicines aren’t working.”
“I’m sure the Healer and the others on the court will help her.”
“That’s just the thing. Nothing’s working. They even have hunters and trackers out looking for special magical ingredients. A few have returned already but it wasn’t enough.”
“Gods, I’m getting out of this cursed land. If you know what’s good for you too, you’ll do the same.”
A few townsfolk are packing their mule-pulled wagons and heading for safer lands. Recalling the confession of the cultist, the heroes seek out the Painted Pig. Bandric spots the sign for the Painted Pig Tavern along a side street leading to the Warehouse Quarter. Bandric announces, “Well, this must be the place.”
Inside the tavern, a low fire burns in the hearth. Various patrons are hunched over their benches nursing their mug of ale. The Dungeon Knights find a spot near some unscrupulous looking fellows. The scruffy looking men are drunk and chatting jovially.
“If Rhulat’s plan works out, she’ll be in charge of this dump. I can’t wait.”
“Are you sure it’s going to work? I mean the Baron has lots of men. Can Rhulat kill them all?” asks the chubby thug.
The thin thug replies, “Don’t you remember the fever is loose in the castle? It’ll take care of the Baron, his family and most of his guard. We won’t have to kill anyone because they’ll all be dead.”
A third, big nosed thug asks, “But how come we won’t get it?”
“Because the boss has the antidote, you lummox. Weren’t you listening to him during the meetings?”
“Those meetings were long, boy-o. You know I can’t stay awake that long listening to blubber mouth. She won’t stop talking sometimes.”
The chubby one spots Merimonwë listening. “Keep your voice down, or someone will hear you.”
“There’s no one around. Beside…eh, you. What are you looking at? This is a private conversation.” The stern looking thug stands up, pushing his bench back with a screech. He points his finger at Bandric and Merimonwë.
The big-nosed thug also gets up. He punches his other hand menacingly and says, “Don’t make me teach you a lesson.”
Gûltar spits, “Is it a lesson you willing to teach? Well, let me be your first student, you whelp.”
Chalándril reprimands, “Gûltar, there’s no killing in town. You know the rules. Please let us settle this like civilized people.” She gently lowers his now ready ax.
He sheaths his ax. “Looks like I’ll have to do this the old fashion way.”
Gûltar blocks the thug’s punch and counters with a vicious punch to the thug’s nose. The big-nosed thug is holding his face with blood oozing around his hands. The dwarf hits the other lout with his elbow and follows up with a left hook to the thug’s face. Chubby guy is on the floor bleeding.
The stern looking thug connects with Gûltar’s face causing his lip to bleed. Gûltar’s eyes tighten and he counters with a forceful punch to the stomach. The thug is knocked outstretched across the table. “The only thing I like more than a bar fight is winning a bar fight.”
The other tavern customers get up and move away from the ruckus. The tavern-keep yells over to Gûltar, “Stop all this fighting or else I’ll call the watch.”
Kotyka says sheepishly, “Guess I’ll tie these guys up now.”
Bandric leaves a few guilders on the table. “Here’s a little coin for damages, my friend.” The tavern-keep nods his head and returns to drying mugs.
Gûltar, Bandric, Chalándril, and Kotyka awkwardly carry the three thugs out of the tavern. Merimonwë and Tolok drag the heroes’ belongings behind. She moans, “I can’t believe how heavy all this stuff is. Should we buy lighter equipment?” She huffs, “Is anyone listening to me?”
-
The Dungeon Knights return to the Keep. In the comfortable lounge room, the heroes begin to unwind. Tolok asks, “Chalándril, you seemed especially focused on the child. Do you have children of your own?”
“No. I’m not even married.”
Tolok looks confused, “Is not that unusual for an elven woman of you…er…age.”
She nods.
Bandric adds, “You are a priestess of the Great Mother. I’m sure caring for children is high on the list of religious obligations.”
Gûltar says, “Yeah, makes sense to protect children—even human children.”
Merimonwë touches Chalándril on the knee. “Were you ever in love Chalándril?”
Chalándril looks off dreamily. “Yes, I had a suitor when I was younger. He was so handsome. His skills as a warrior were unmatched. He didn’t care that I was half-human…until it was clear I couldn’t bear a child.”
Chalándril starts crying. “I can’t bear children yet the very precepts of the Goddess are fertility and child-rearing. I thought that becoming a priestess of the Great Mother would help—that her powers would grant me a child. I prayed so hard, so very hard. Some half-breeds are fertile but there aren’t many. Their children are enough elf to have a normal life.” She sobs quietly. Her body trembles.
She takes out a handkerchief and wipes her eyes. “I prayed that I would be one of those few blessed women. The Lhavi are half-humans that usually breed true. They continue their community among themselves separate from Elven and Human populations.”
Her tears flow down her face. “But I’m not Lhavi. I’m just a miserable mistake. I will never have children. I will always be a failure to my ancestors, my people, and my Goddess.”
Merimonwë hugs the sobbing half-human. Chalándril continues, “That’s why I’m out here risking my life for gold and glory. I don’t need either but there’s nothing else I’m good at. There’s nothing else for me. For some reason, I’m good at dungeon crawling, destroying undead things, and other adventurous activities.”
She composes herself. “What elf would join my family? I can’t bear any children. I offer nothing—no station, no children, no land. At least here in the wild lands of the humans and dwarves, I can do something useful. I can protect people, stop evil and heal the sick. At least my life has value. I have a purpose.”
She wipes the tears from her face. “The Baron’s child will live. She must! Children are innocent, gifts from the Goddess. None should suffer like that. Not while I can do something about it.”
-
A few other groups of adventurers enter the chamber and find seats. They have boxes or bags loaded with mysterious ingredients. The Chamberlain takes their names and makes notes on his docket. Chalándril leans over and asks the chamberlain quietly, “What of those other adventuring teams?”
“We had several teams out there looking for ingredients to make more powerful antitoxin. The Baron fears there is an inside man and traitor working among us.”
Chalándril adds, “We overheard some things in town. Has the disease infected anyone inside the Keep? Are these ingredients for anyone important with an incurable illness?”
“Yes, the Baron’s daughter has contracted Green Spot Fever. The cure will be tested soon. And the antitoxin formula will be given to the staff alchemist to concoct additional batches. All other alchemical efforts have failed.”
Chalándril continues, “We suspect someone planted the fever in the castle in an attempt on the Baron’s life and bid for control over the Barony. Keep your guards on alert. While you work on more salve, we’ll root out the conspirators and bring them to justice.”
“That would truly be great. Thank you.”
Merimonwë asks, ‟What will you do with the mask of Doctor Pox? It has some magic in it.”
‟The Baron will have a trusted wizard study the object. You need not worry about that.”
The double doors to the audience room open. Baron sits on the central throne. A beautiful lady sits next to him in a splendid gown. Other ministers and courtiers stand around him. Bandric asks, “Is that the Baroness next to the Baron?”
The Chamberlain responds, “Oh, no, she is too despondent for an audience. She is caring for the princess. That’s the Baron’s favorite Courtesan, the one called Rhulat.”
All six of the Dungeon Knights stand up and begin drawing weapons with practiced ease. The palace guards lower their halberds and move to protect the Baron. Chalándril barks, “She is the traitor. Rhulat infected the princess with the fever. We must capture her at once. She is a cultist.”
Rhulat notices the commotion in the waiting chamber. She whispers to the Baron and excuses herself from the court. The Dungeon Knights charge into the room startling the guards, so much so that one of them drops his halberd on the floor. Rhulat closes the door behind her. By the time Kotyka gets there, the pretty Courtesan is gone.
Much later, a chief guard reports to the Baron, “Baron, Lady Rhulat is not in the Keep. I fear she has escaped. I have several units dispatched throughout the town looking for her.”
The Baron’s face is red with anger and anguish. “How, how could she?”
-
The Dungeon Knights return to the kidnapped conspirators tied up in the Inn rooms. Gûltar slams the door. “All right! It’s time for you lads to start talking. I’m in no mood for tricks or tight lips.”
Gûltar pulls a knife.
Gûltar frowns, “Lads, this will happen one of three ways. You tell me what I want to know. Or I cut you then you tell me what I want to know, or I kill you and we talk with your dead bodies. Still, I get what I want to know. Which do you choose?”
The thugs look at each other with gags in their mouths. They are scared. They say something muffled. Bandric crinkles his face. “I don’t understand what they are saying.”
Kotyka cuts the gags off, leaving trickles of blood where her knife cut too close. The three thugs begin to tell all they know about Rhulat, her safe house, and her plans—to the best of their limited knowledge. With the information gained from the thugs, the heroes make way to the water-wheel safe house of Rhulat. The baron’s guards enter the room to take custody of the thugs. ‟Just wait until you see the Baron’s dungeons, you wretched excuses of traitors.”
The sound of a metal gauntlet hitting flesh echoes in the room. The door closes.
-
The Dungeon Knights sneak up towards the water-wheel house. The rush of water and the rhythmic creak of the mill turning drown out most noise in the area. Bandric points up to the apex of the roof. “There, in the little door is a watchman. I can get him from here.”
“Just don’t let him fall out of the building.”
“Don’t you trust my skills?”
Several answers at the same time, “No.”
Bandric licks the feathers and takes careful aim. After agonizing seconds, the soft twang of the bowstring sounds. The arrow hits the guard in the neck up into the head. “Gotcha!” Then the body bends over. “No, no.” The guard struggles to stay standing but finally falls forward out of the door. His body lands on the ground just as the water wheel groans loudly. “Whew, that was lucky.”
The other Dungeon Knights look at Bandric and shake their heads. Gûltar orders, “Let’s move out.” The six adventurers hustle towards the door and open it. There they find several cultists enjoying a game of cards. The heroes dispatch the ill-prepared villains in seconds. “Quickly, move to the next room!”
Bandric opens the next door and says, “Clear…huh”. A large rope loops around his head and tightens. From the shadowy corner of the main room, a humanoid shape coil of rope steps out into the light. Its other hand slams into Merimonwë knocking her back a few feet.
Chalándril exclaims, “What is that?”
The sound of a door slamming shut comes from behind the adventurers. Kotyka yells, “One of the cultists is getting away.”
“We don’t have time for him. Focus on saving Bandric and killing this rope monster.”
The rope creature flips Bandric in the air and slams him onto the floor. His body goes limp. Gûltar steps and swings at the rope creature. His weapon barely leaves a mark. Silent and emotionless, the rope creature uses both arms to slam Merimonwë again. Her body goes limp too. As Chalándril unleashes her healing aura burst, Tolok casts a burst of flames upon the rope creature. The flames linger on the rope for moments but eventually fade. Gûltar hews into the rope and chops of a few chunks from the main mass.
Bandric and Merimonwë wake from their bout of unconsciousness. Unarmed, Bandric searches his pack for a little vial. “Here it is, alchemical fire.” He throws the little bomb onto the rope creatures setting it on fire.
The rope creature tries to loop around Kotyka’s limbs but she proves too nimble for it to catch. Gûltar continues to hack into the ropes until the humanoid shape ceases to move. The piles of cut and frayed rope litter the floor. Tolok takes a few moments to study the rope and says, “I believe this was some sort of magical golem set up as a guardian.”
Chalándril says, “Let’s heal up and search this place.” Several minutes later, Kotyka uncovers a satchel filled with antidote serum. The Dungeon Knights take what they can carry and rush back to the road to search for the missing cultist.
Bandric picks up the trail just outside the mill. He stalks the trail for an hour. The Dungeon Knights reach the location of the lone cultist. There, resting at the side of a tree is a woman wearing expensive riding outfit and high boots. Her hair is braided and neck adorned with jewelry.
Bandric steps into view with the others, ‟Lady Rhulat, we’ve been sent by the Baron, prepare to die.”
‟Not today I think.” says the baronial concubine. ‟Summon swarm!”
Bandric shoots several arrows into Rhulat. Blood spreads out of the wounds, ruining her splendid outfit. Tolok shoots rays of acid at Rhulat. The others approach the woman. A spider swarm appears all over Bandric and the others. Rhulat laughs and coughs up blood.
The spider covered dwarf steps forward and hews the head off the pretty lady. ‟Spider bites don’t bother me, miss.”
‟They bother me,” adds Bandric.
-
The Dungeon Knights arrive back at the keep with more antidote and Rhulat’s head in a sack. Chalándril says, “Baron, this should be enough for your daughter and any others who may have Green Spot Fever. We also found some additional notes on the recipe for the antidote.”
“Thank you all for your help and dedication to the true mission. I will never forget how you helped save my daughter.” replies the Baron. ‟And rid me of a treacherous lover.”
The Dungeon Knights bow. They retire to the waiting room in the keep. The Chamberlain says, “Please wait here.”
“Of course.” Chalándril continues,
The Vizier approaches, ‟Dungeon Knights, we have another mission for you. The Baron wishes to bring some of the antitoxin and healing salves to one of the remote posts, Fort Woodsreach. Please deliver this box to the captain of Woodsreach.”
‟We will be honored.”
Will the antitoxin help the remote fort? What evil lurks in the wild hinterlands? Find out next issue.
=======================================================================
Location: Thanhal Keep
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 7)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 7)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 7)
Kotyka (Half-ork Rogue 7)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 7)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 7)
=======================================================================
“I so want to pop that pimple.” – Bandric
=======================================================================
A call is put out for adventurers to help the Baron in his time of need. For those who can read, a scroll is posted on the job board at the Adventurers’ Guild House. For those who can not, the town crier reads the following:
“Adventurers wanted to perform an important, confidential mission for our valiant Baron. Inquire at the front gate of the baronial keep. Must provide own equipment and supplies. Compensation provided for successful work only.”
The line of ruffians and scoundrels wrapped around the keep walls and along the neighboring buildings. Among the hundreds of applicants, a band of six called the Dungeon Knights wait impatiently for their turn.
“We’ve been in this line for hours. I gotta pee.” Bandric exclaims.
Chalándril looks at him sharply, “Hold it. We’re at the front of the line.”
A group of four individuals walks away from the desk allowing Chalándril and friends to step up.
The desk clerk looks up dismissive, flips a few papers around. The clerk asks, “What are your qualifications?”
Chalándril responds, “We wiped out the goblin tribes of the Goblin Hills several days ago.”
Clerk’s eyebrow rises. “I see. The door to your right, please.”
The Dungeon Knights enter a smaller room. A dignified, well-dressed man steps forward and hands Chalándril some papers. The man bows, “I work for the Baron. Please sit down while we talk.”
The minister sits on a well-made chair. The heroes find two wood benches to rest their butts. “The Baron is in urgent need of particularly crafty and deadly warriors who will root out and extinguish rebellious cults who threaten the safety and security of this land. Can the Baron count on your discretion and, shall we say, thoroughness?”
Tolok nods affirmation.
“Excellent. Here is a map noting the last known sightings of these cultists, according to the Baron’s informants. These vile cultists are spreading a rebellious disease both literally and figuratively among the peasants of this barony. Their infectious message of disobedience and self-empowerment must be put down. I must add that time is of the essence. The faster you can complete your mission, the sooner we can stop the spread of their diseased message. The Baron wants the cult’s antidote for the illness they are spreading. It has spread into the Baron’s very keep. A cure must be had as soon as possible.”
The minister sigh, ‟The other teams are sent on missions to collect ingredients for powerful curative elixirs. We hope their missions are successful too. However, you are charged with the most important goal, elimination of this cancer of the Barony. I can offer you no other information because I have none to provide.”
Bandric begins to speak, but the minister interrupts. “Best you be on your way. This mission is urgent.”
The minister raises his eyebrow.
Chalándril speaks, “Yes, we’ll be on our way. Everything here looks good and in order. No sense in wasting time or negotiating pay.”
The minister merely rolls his eyes. A barely audible sigh escapes his lips.
-
As the Dungeon Knights make their way out of the keep, they overhear a few guards talking.
“The baron’s daughter looks awful with all those puss filled green warts on her face. Yuck!”
“Well, the Healer and Alchemist concocted a list of ingredients for one of their new salves to help the girl.”
“Why didn’t they just fetch the priest to cure the girl?”
“They did, stupid. Don’t you think they tried that? It didn’t work. That’s why all these mercenaries are here, to gather all the ingredients.”
Tolok says to his friends, “It seems this is less a fool’s errand and more of a life-saving mission.”
Chalándril responds, “Then we must hurry. The girl shouldn’t suffer any more than she has too.”
-
The towers of the town’s keep are beyond sight. Tall trees and verdant bushes fill the surrounding area. The Dungeon Knights march on for hours.
Kotyka pulls her veil tighter. “The Vizier gave us this map to the last sightings of the suspected cultists. According to the map, they should be around this general location.”
Bandric replies, “This area is beyond most of the farms. Perhaps they are hiding amongst the local caves or in the woods.”
Merimonwë’s ears twitch. “I hear something.”
A low, haunting howl echoes in the forest. Terrified, Kotyka ducks into a knot of roots under a tree. The others draw their weapons and look around. Merimonwë’s ears twitch and turn in all directions. “I think there are more than one of…whatever it is.”
Bandric nocks his arrow and pulls. “I see three. Two small and a pack leader.”
The shadowy brush, a canine creature leaps out towards Bandric. Around its head is a mane of barbed quills. Ready for the onslaught, Bandric fires two arrows into the chest of the beast. Wounded, its attack fails to connect with the woodsman. Another beast leaps out to attack Merimonwë. However, Gûltar’s ax meets it mid-air cutting deep into the flesh. With a dying act, the porcupine-wolf bites the elf’s arm and a quill from its mane latches onto Merimonwë. She cries out in pain.
Chalándril brings her mace down on the head of the surviving porcupine-wolf. The skull smashes in an explosion of blood and brains. “Bandric, don’t worry about this one.”
A very large porcupine-wolf step out of the brush. Its muscles ripple in the shadowy light. The porcupine-wolf’s teeth glisten in the snarling jaw. The rubble of its growl is so low, it can be felt by all the Dungeon Knights. Bandric slowly taps Gûltar on the shoulder and says, “I think it’s your turn again.”
The dwarf’s eyes squint and look at Bandric. “My turn, eh?”
Noticing the distraction, the large porcupine-wolf leaps towards Gûltar. Bandric steps back and unloads an arrow. Tolok casts his magic missile spell, which zips off and unerringly finds its mark. Chalándril is too far to react while Merimonwë’s spell sends flames at the porcupine-wolf. Almost unfazed by the series of attack, the porcupine-wolf lands atop Gûltar’s shield. The porcupine-wolf’s quills pepper his shield. With its large jaws, the porcupine-wolf bites down on Gûltar and knocks him to the ground. The two combatants both regain their feet and charge each other again.
With a masterful swing of his ax, Gûltar lops off its head. The head wiggles and writhes as blood escape from the exposed neck. The porcupine-wolf’s body makes one final twitch and then falls limp. The dwarf stands above the body waiting…sweating. Bandric makes the announcement, “I think it is dead.”
Gûltar shakes his ax, whipping off the blood and guts. ‟Eh, you better skin the varmint so we can sell the pelt. It’d fetch a good price.”
‟What about the gaping ax holes?”
‟Let Tolok figure that out.”
-
The Dungeon Knights continue their search in the area. Bandric signals his companions. ‟Over here. Look Someone camped here a few days ago. There’s still warmth in the fire they covered up. Let’s search this area for anything they left behind.”
Kotyka finds a broken statue partially buried in the refuse pit. ‟This looks familiar. Tolok, you recognize this right? You have the best memory.”
The gnome examines the piece. Tolok strokes his chin hairs. ‟Yes, I do recall this form of idol from a previous adventure in these parts. It was the Forbidden Caves. You remember, the time we fought the beetle riders?”
After a few more minutes searching the campsite and immediate area, Chalándril decides to move on. She sends the group back to the caves. ‟Let’s continue this investigation at the Forbidden Caves. Bandric, do you remember the way?”
‟Yes, it’s not far.”
-
A deer is grazing in the woods near some brush. Its ears twitch. The head snaps up and looks towards the Dungeon Knights. For a moment, it is completely still. Then in a flash, it leaps and runs off into the woods.
The six adventurers march through the game trail towards the cavernous hills. Kotyka and Bandric lead the way. As they approach the Forbidden Caves, Bandric moves forward with cautious steps looking for guards or sentinels on watch. Bandric’s hand rises. His hand forms a fist. The Knights stop moving. Bandric watches the sentinel at the top of the hill for a few minutes. Bandric leans over and whispers to Kotyka. The half-orc nods. Both head out into the brush around the hill, going into different directions. Both moved without making a sound.
Chalándril watches the sentinel while she waits for the other two to return. Merimonwë and Kotyka have vacant stares and open mouths. Tolok is lost in thought as he contemplates magical formulas. The human sentinel grabs his neck, reaching for the arrow and blood. Another arrow pierces his chest. The sentinel falls forward off his perch to the ground.
Before his body settles to the ground, a robed figure grabs the body and pulls it into the brush. The squishy sound of metal entering flesh repeats several times. Kotyka’s robed form emerges from the brush. She signals to Chalándril to come towards her position.
As Merimonwë, Gûltar, Tolok, and Chalándril reach Kotyka’s position, Kotyka says in a soft voice, ‟Bandric thinks there’s another sentinel. We’ll check it out while you wait here. Wait for my signal before you move to the next location.”
Tolok raises his hand. ‟Where is that location?”
Another body drops from the hilly perch. With great speed, Kotyka takes out her dagger and stabs the body several times. Merimonwë lets out a shriek before she muffles it with her hands.
‟I think,” adds Kotyka, ‟this could be the signal.” Kotyka drags the body into the bushes and covers the body with a few branches. ‟Let’s move.”
-
The Knights walk the familiar path to the mouth of the once hidden cave. Bandric joins them at the cave entrance. He says, ‟Someone cleared out a lot of the underbrush and the immediate area. It’s not hard to find, and the caves look populated. There’s rubbish pit a few yards off.”
Bandric points into the deep cave. ‟Gultar and Kotyka, you take the lead. It’s dark in there.”
Kotyka and Gûltar walk forward. Bandric puts a magic light stick in his shoulder holster and follows the other three into the tunnel. Kotyka shouts, ‟There! Something’s coming down the tunnel!”
‟Aye. He’s a big fella,” remarks Gûltar as he readies his ax.
The lumbering humanoid figure looks like a poorly stitched rag doll made of body pieces and miscolored scrap sections of skin. The stitch lines are swollen and festering with puss and rot. The creature smells of putrid flesh and decay.
The fleshy golem’s large fists are raised high over its head as it enters the light. Bandric remarks, ‟Wasn’t he here the last time?”
Gûltar barks, ‟Well, this relationship is going to end the same way.”
The muscled dwarf swings his mighty ax into the fleshy opponent. The creature opens its mouth and spews a line of putrid water across Gûltar and Kotyka.
‟Agh! Some of that slop got in my mouth.” cries Gûltar.
Tolok warns, ‟Be careful, it might have a poisonous effect or something else equally as foul.” The gnomish wizard casts Grease underneath the mismatched footed golem. The flesh behemoth falls to the ground.
Chalándril exclaims, ‟Remember, magic won’t work on the golem directly.”
‟Damage!” Gûltar barks, ‟Lots and lots of damage kills this thing.” The angry dwarf stakes another swing at the creature. Bandric unloads several arrows into its putrid flesh.
‟Cough,” Kotyka gags, ‟It smells really bad. I can’t stay close to it and focus. I think I’m going to puke.”
‟Gultar!” screams Merimonwë, ‟Get out of the way. She throws a vial of alchemical fire onto the grease-covered golem. It bursts into flames.
The golem strikes Gûltar a few more times before the burly dwarf delivers the final blow. Rotted flesh and innards pour onto the cave floor. The smell gets worse.
Chalándril orders the others, ‟Let’s move further in. I’m sure the others heard this fight. We can’t give them a chance to escape.”
Along the way, the Dungeon Knights encounter local cultist and former farmers or tradesmen. They feebly try to stop the advances of the well-armed Knights, falling bloody and dead at Gûltar’s feet. ‟Tis a waste of good people.”
The Dungeon Knights make their way to the former shrine. There, they find a mask-wearing man wearing tattered robes. In front of him are several men with weapons. Bandric remarks, ‟These guys look better trained for fighting.”
A ray shoots out of the masked man’s hand. Gûltar deflects it with his shield. The masked man and his bodyguards are momentarily engulfed in a ball of flames and fire. When the fire subsides, three arrows hit the masked man in the chest.
One of the guards yells, ‟Doctor Pox! Quickly, cover him now. We need to get him out of here.”
Gûltar pushes past the guard and engages Doctor Pox with ax and shield. The guards surround the dwarf, but one guard collapses to the ground. Kotyka stands behind him with a bloody sword in hand.
Doctor Pox touches Gûltar on the head and yells, ‟Contagion!”. Gûltar stumbles to one knee. His shield drops from his arm. The surly dwarf looks up at the tattered robed priest and raises an eyebrow.
‟I cast Steel Ax!” Gûltar stands up, puts two hands on his ax, swing across the priest. Blood splatters everywhere. The force of the blow sends the priest stumbling backward. ‟Cough. I don’t feel so well.”
The guard hits Gûltar from behind with his sword. Gûltar hunches over from the blow. Two celestial badgers grab on to each of the guard’s legs. The Badgers begin to pull and bit the guard. He screams from the pain. Bandric’s arrow to the head silences his agony.
In the back of the shrine, a peasant hides curled up in the corner. ‟Please don’t hurt me. I don’t want to die.”
Chalándril approaches the woman, ‟We won’t kill you. Just tell us the truth to our questions.”
‟I swear, please let me live.”
Chalándril begins, ‟Are there more of you and your group?”
‟This is most of us. The others like to hang out at the Painted Pig in town.”
‟Who is your leader?”
‟Doctor Pox is our leader.”
Chalándril continues, ‟Do you have an antidote to the green spot fever?”
The woman begins to cry, ‟No, I don’t know. We have some antidotes here. I think Doctor Pox has something in his notes.”
‟Children have the green spot fever. Children are dying. Tell us if there’s an antidote and where it is!”
‟Gods no! Not children. He said we wouldn’t hurt children. There! The cure is in there in the jars.” She begins to sob more. The woman grabs a knife from the table and slits her throat. With blood gurgling out of her mouth, ‟Not the children.”
Her lifeless body slumps to the floor.
-
Back in town, the Dungeon Knights overhear conversations among the townspeople. “I heard the little princess is gravely ill. The medicines aren’t working.”
“I’m sure the Healer and the others on the court will help her.”
“That’s just the thing. Nothing’s working. They even have hunters and trackers out looking for special magical ingredients. A few have returned already but it wasn’t enough.”
“Gods, I’m getting out of this cursed land. If you know what’s good for you too, you’ll do the same.”
A few townsfolk are packing their mule-pulled wagons and heading for safer lands. Recalling the confession of the cultist, the heroes seek out the Painted Pig. Bandric spots the sign for the Painted Pig Tavern along a side street leading to the Warehouse Quarter. Bandric announces, “Well, this must be the place.”
Inside the tavern, a low fire burns in the hearth. Various patrons are hunched over their benches nursing their mug of ale. The Dungeon Knights find a spot near some unscrupulous looking fellows. The scruffy looking men are drunk and chatting jovially.
“If Rhulat’s plan works out, she’ll be in charge of this dump. I can’t wait.”
“Are you sure it’s going to work? I mean the Baron has lots of men. Can Rhulat kill them all?” asks the chubby thug.
The thin thug replies, “Don’t you remember the fever is loose in the castle? It’ll take care of the Baron, his family and most of his guard. We won’t have to kill anyone because they’ll all be dead.”
A third, big nosed thug asks, “But how come we won’t get it?”
“Because the boss has the antidote, you lummox. Weren’t you listening to him during the meetings?”
“Those meetings were long, boy-o. You know I can’t stay awake that long listening to blubber mouth. She won’t stop talking sometimes.”
The chubby one spots Merimonwë listening. “Keep your voice down, or someone will hear you.”
“There’s no one around. Beside…eh, you. What are you looking at? This is a private conversation.” The stern looking thug stands up, pushing his bench back with a screech. He points his finger at Bandric and Merimonwë.
The big-nosed thug also gets up. He punches his other hand menacingly and says, “Don’t make me teach you a lesson.”
Gûltar spits, “Is it a lesson you willing to teach? Well, let me be your first student, you whelp.”
Chalándril reprimands, “Gûltar, there’s no killing in town. You know the rules. Please let us settle this like civilized people.” She gently lowers his now ready ax.
He sheaths his ax. “Looks like I’ll have to do this the old fashion way.”
Gûltar blocks the thug’s punch and counters with a vicious punch to the thug’s nose. The big-nosed thug is holding his face with blood oozing around his hands. The dwarf hits the other lout with his elbow and follows up with a left hook to the thug’s face. Chubby guy is on the floor bleeding.
The stern looking thug connects with Gûltar’s face causing his lip to bleed. Gûltar’s eyes tighten and he counters with a forceful punch to the stomach. The thug is knocked outstretched across the table. “The only thing I like more than a bar fight is winning a bar fight.”
The other tavern customers get up and move away from the ruckus. The tavern-keep yells over to Gûltar, “Stop all this fighting or else I’ll call the watch.”
Kotyka says sheepishly, “Guess I’ll tie these guys up now.”
Bandric leaves a few guilders on the table. “Here’s a little coin for damages, my friend.” The tavern-keep nods his head and returns to drying mugs.
Gûltar, Bandric, Chalándril, and Kotyka awkwardly carry the three thugs out of the tavern. Merimonwë and Tolok drag the heroes’ belongings behind. She moans, “I can’t believe how heavy all this stuff is. Should we buy lighter equipment?” She huffs, “Is anyone listening to me?”
-
The Dungeon Knights return to the Keep. In the comfortable lounge room, the heroes begin to unwind. Tolok asks, “Chalándril, you seemed especially focused on the child. Do you have children of your own?”
“No. I’m not even married.”
Tolok looks confused, “Is not that unusual for an elven woman of you…er…age.”
She nods.
Bandric adds, “You are a priestess of the Great Mother. I’m sure caring for children is high on the list of religious obligations.”
Gûltar says, “Yeah, makes sense to protect children—even human children.”
Merimonwë touches Chalándril on the knee. “Were you ever in love Chalándril?”
Chalándril looks off dreamily. “Yes, I had a suitor when I was younger. He was so handsome. His skills as a warrior were unmatched. He didn’t care that I was half-human…until it was clear I couldn’t bear a child.”
Chalándril starts crying. “I can’t bear children yet the very precepts of the Goddess are fertility and child-rearing. I thought that becoming a priestess of the Great Mother would help—that her powers would grant me a child. I prayed so hard, so very hard. Some half-breeds are fertile but there aren’t many. Their children are enough elf to have a normal life.” She sobs quietly. Her body trembles.
She takes out a handkerchief and wipes her eyes. “I prayed that I would be one of those few blessed women. The Lhavi are half-humans that usually breed true. They continue their community among themselves separate from Elven and Human populations.”
Her tears flow down her face. “But I’m not Lhavi. I’m just a miserable mistake. I will never have children. I will always be a failure to my ancestors, my people, and my Goddess.”
Merimonwë hugs the sobbing half-human. Chalándril continues, “That’s why I’m out here risking my life for gold and glory. I don’t need either but there’s nothing else I’m good at. There’s nothing else for me. For some reason, I’m good at dungeon crawling, destroying undead things, and other adventurous activities.”
She composes herself. “What elf would join my family? I can’t bear any children. I offer nothing—no station, no children, no land. At least here in the wild lands of the humans and dwarves, I can do something useful. I can protect people, stop evil and heal the sick. At least my life has value. I have a purpose.”
She wipes the tears from her face. “The Baron’s child will live. She must! Children are innocent, gifts from the Goddess. None should suffer like that. Not while I can do something about it.”
-
A few other groups of adventurers enter the chamber and find seats. They have boxes or bags loaded with mysterious ingredients. The Chamberlain takes their names and makes notes on his docket. Chalándril leans over and asks the chamberlain quietly, “What of those other adventuring teams?”
“We had several teams out there looking for ingredients to make more powerful antitoxin. The Baron fears there is an inside man and traitor working among us.”
Chalándril adds, “We overheard some things in town. Has the disease infected anyone inside the Keep? Are these ingredients for anyone important with an incurable illness?”
“Yes, the Baron’s daughter has contracted Green Spot Fever. The cure will be tested soon. And the antitoxin formula will be given to the staff alchemist to concoct additional batches. All other alchemical efforts have failed.”
Chalándril continues, “We suspect someone planted the fever in the castle in an attempt on the Baron’s life and bid for control over the Barony. Keep your guards on alert. While you work on more salve, we’ll root out the conspirators and bring them to justice.”
“That would truly be great. Thank you.”
Merimonwë asks, ‟What will you do with the mask of Doctor Pox? It has some magic in it.”
‟The Baron will have a trusted wizard study the object. You need not worry about that.”
The double doors to the audience room open. Baron sits on the central throne. A beautiful lady sits next to him in a splendid gown. Other ministers and courtiers stand around him. Bandric asks, “Is that the Baroness next to the Baron?”
The Chamberlain responds, “Oh, no, she is too despondent for an audience. She is caring for the princess. That’s the Baron’s favorite Courtesan, the one called Rhulat.”
All six of the Dungeon Knights stand up and begin drawing weapons with practiced ease. The palace guards lower their halberds and move to protect the Baron. Chalándril barks, “She is the traitor. Rhulat infected the princess with the fever. We must capture her at once. She is a cultist.”
Rhulat notices the commotion in the waiting chamber. She whispers to the Baron and excuses herself from the court. The Dungeon Knights charge into the room startling the guards, so much so that one of them drops his halberd on the floor. Rhulat closes the door behind her. By the time Kotyka gets there, the pretty Courtesan is gone.
Much later, a chief guard reports to the Baron, “Baron, Lady Rhulat is not in the Keep. I fear she has escaped. I have several units dispatched throughout the town looking for her.”
The Baron’s face is red with anger and anguish. “How, how could she?”
-
The Dungeon Knights return to the kidnapped conspirators tied up in the Inn rooms. Gûltar slams the door. “All right! It’s time for you lads to start talking. I’m in no mood for tricks or tight lips.”
Gûltar pulls a knife.
Gûltar frowns, “Lads, this will happen one of three ways. You tell me what I want to know. Or I cut you then you tell me what I want to know, or I kill you and we talk with your dead bodies. Still, I get what I want to know. Which do you choose?”
The thugs look at each other with gags in their mouths. They are scared. They say something muffled. Bandric crinkles his face. “I don’t understand what they are saying.”
Kotyka cuts the gags off, leaving trickles of blood where her knife cut too close. The three thugs begin to tell all they know about Rhulat, her safe house, and her plans—to the best of their limited knowledge. With the information gained from the thugs, the heroes make way to the water-wheel safe house of Rhulat. The baron’s guards enter the room to take custody of the thugs. ‟Just wait until you see the Baron’s dungeons, you wretched excuses of traitors.”
The sound of a metal gauntlet hitting flesh echoes in the room. The door closes.
-
The Dungeon Knights sneak up towards the water-wheel house. The rush of water and the rhythmic creak of the mill turning drown out most noise in the area. Bandric points up to the apex of the roof. “There, in the little door is a watchman. I can get him from here.”
“Just don’t let him fall out of the building.”
“Don’t you trust my skills?”
Several answers at the same time, “No.”
Bandric licks the feathers and takes careful aim. After agonizing seconds, the soft twang of the bowstring sounds. The arrow hits the guard in the neck up into the head. “Gotcha!” Then the body bends over. “No, no.” The guard struggles to stay standing but finally falls forward out of the door. His body lands on the ground just as the water wheel groans loudly. “Whew, that was lucky.”
The other Dungeon Knights look at Bandric and shake their heads. Gûltar orders, “Let’s move out.” The six adventurers hustle towards the door and open it. There they find several cultists enjoying a game of cards. The heroes dispatch the ill-prepared villains in seconds. “Quickly, move to the next room!”
Bandric opens the next door and says, “Clear…huh”. A large rope loops around his head and tightens. From the shadowy corner of the main room, a humanoid shape coil of rope steps out into the light. Its other hand slams into Merimonwë knocking her back a few feet.
Chalándril exclaims, “What is that?”
The sound of a door slamming shut comes from behind the adventurers. Kotyka yells, “One of the cultists is getting away.”
“We don’t have time for him. Focus on saving Bandric and killing this rope monster.”
The rope creature flips Bandric in the air and slams him onto the floor. His body goes limp. Gûltar steps and swings at the rope creature. His weapon barely leaves a mark. Silent and emotionless, the rope creature uses both arms to slam Merimonwë again. Her body goes limp too. As Chalándril unleashes her healing aura burst, Tolok casts a burst of flames upon the rope creature. The flames linger on the rope for moments but eventually fade. Gûltar hews into the rope and chops of a few chunks from the main mass.
Bandric and Merimonwë wake from their bout of unconsciousness. Unarmed, Bandric searches his pack for a little vial. “Here it is, alchemical fire.” He throws the little bomb onto the rope creatures setting it on fire.
The rope creature tries to loop around Kotyka’s limbs but she proves too nimble for it to catch. Gûltar continues to hack into the ropes until the humanoid shape ceases to move. The piles of cut and frayed rope litter the floor. Tolok takes a few moments to study the rope and says, “I believe this was some sort of magical golem set up as a guardian.”
Chalándril says, “Let’s heal up and search this place.” Several minutes later, Kotyka uncovers a satchel filled with antidote serum. The Dungeon Knights take what they can carry and rush back to the road to search for the missing cultist.
Bandric picks up the trail just outside the mill. He stalks the trail for an hour. The Dungeon Knights reach the location of the lone cultist. There, resting at the side of a tree is a woman wearing expensive riding outfit and high boots. Her hair is braided and neck adorned with jewelry.
Bandric steps into view with the others, ‟Lady Rhulat, we’ve been sent by the Baron, prepare to die.”
‟Not today I think.” says the baronial concubine. ‟Summon swarm!”
Bandric shoots several arrows into Rhulat. Blood spreads out of the wounds, ruining her splendid outfit. Tolok shoots rays of acid at Rhulat. The others approach the woman. A spider swarm appears all over Bandric and the others. Rhulat laughs and coughs up blood.
The spider covered dwarf steps forward and hews the head off the pretty lady. ‟Spider bites don’t bother me, miss.”
‟They bother me,” adds Bandric.
-
The Dungeon Knights arrive back at the keep with more antidote and Rhulat’s head in a sack. Chalándril says, “Baron, this should be enough for your daughter and any others who may have Green Spot Fever. We also found some additional notes on the recipe for the antidote.”
“Thank you all for your help and dedication to the true mission. I will never forget how you helped save my daughter.” replies the Baron. ‟And rid me of a treacherous lover.”
The Dungeon Knights bow. They retire to the waiting room in the keep. The Chamberlain says, “Please wait here.”
“Of course.” Chalándril continues,
The Vizier approaches, ‟Dungeon Knights, we have another mission for you. The Baron wishes to bring some of the antitoxin and healing salves to one of the remote posts, Fort Woodsreach. Please deliver this box to the captain of Woodsreach.”
‟We will be honored.”
Will the antitoxin help the remote fort? What evil lurks in the wild hinterlands? Find out next issue.
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Location: Thanhal Keep
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 7)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 7)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 7)
Kotyka (Half-ork Rogue 7)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 7)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 7)
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“I so want to pop that pimple.” – Bandric
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