Issue 015: Kelwyn’s Keys

Border tensions along the Riverland Baronies may be stoked into conflict by roving bandits and unorganized thieves. Guild protected caravans are being waylaid and local commoners are kidnapped. Who is behind these events? More importantly, who will stop them? (Part One of the Kelwyn's Keys series)

The mud caked walls along the main road opens up to the primary market in the Town Square. Plumb, dirty pigeons are shooed away by children swinging sticks. The beating of their wings is drowned out by the haggling of nearby merchants. There’s a quiet, plump fellow selling wonderfully spiced meats-on-a-stick and sweet tea. The sign above his cart reads “Palin’s Spiced Meats” in bold letters. The merchant set up several benches for his customers to sit on while they eat. Several glass pitchers full of sweet tea warm in the sun atop his cart. Palin pours himself a glass while he waits for his next customer.

A small girl dressed in plain-looking farming clothes chews the last of her spiced meat. Looking up, she sees interesting strangers. She walks up to the tall human adorn in green clothing. She stares at the stranger for several minutes. Finally, she smiles and taps the stranger on the arm. The young girl says, “I’m Gerta, what’s thy name, good sir?”

The tall human looks down, ‟I am Bandric Banehallow. Nice to meet thee, young lady.” He gestures to his companions, ‟This is Priestess Chalándril, Gûltar Grimstone, Merimonwë, Tolok, and this is the adorable Kotyka.” The half-ork blushes.

“My daddy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers. They might be scary. Are you scary?” She looks down the street and points. “What are those things? They don’t look like humans or dwarves to me. They look scary.”

Bandric turns and sees three goblins in the alley climbing into an open window. Gûltar draws his axe and starts running. ‟I better get over now. I need a head start.”

Kotyka hoist Tolok into her arms and starts running too. Bandric nocks an arrow. Chalándril puts her hand on his arm. ‟Not in town. There are innocent bystanders.”

Bandric lowers his bow and hustles off with the others. Chalándril bends down and talks to little Gerta. ‟Little one, stay here with the nice man. He’ll keep thee safe. Keep away from creatures like that for thy own safety.”

Gerta nods her head. ‟Chompers will keep me safe.”

Merimonwë and Chalándril rush off to join their companions. Kotyka is the first to arrive. Breek and Entar, two of the goblin thieves, hold a third goblin up as he wiggles into the broken window. Breek cries out in, ‟Some humans are coming. Make it quick!”

Breek drops his hold on Fentar, who legs flail upon the ledge. Entar spins as he draws his ragged edged cleaver. ‟These humans are ruining everything!”

Kotyka drops Tolok, none too gently, slides around the goblins and with an acrobatic flip, lands on the far side of Breek. Her sword drawn and slicing the surprised goblin across the mid section. Entar steps over to protect his partner and attacks Kotyka with his rusty cleaver. The blow of his strike hits Kotyka square on the arm, forcing her to take a step back. Blood dribbles out of her wound.

Gûltar arrives with wide eyes and ax held high. Breek sees the dwarf as he attempts to reposition away from Kotyka. Before Breek can complete his move, Gultar’s ax hews his arm off and rips his chest open. Goblin blood sprays across the alley and Gultar. The dwarf mutters, ‟Forges be damned, I got goblin blood all over my beard.”

Fentar gains his footing in the windowpane. He sees the death of his partner and yells, ‟Thy bearded bastard!”

The goblin leaps from the window onto Gûltar. Fentar’s dagger digs deeply into Gultar’s shoulder. An arrow pierces Fentar’s neck. The goblin slumps off Gûltar and lands on the alley street with a thud. Entar avoids the mighty staff swing by Tolok, only to meet the full face of Chalandril’s mace across his chest. The snapping of ribs sing of Entar’s pending death.

Merimonwë asks, ‟Are any of them alive? We should interrogate one of them.”

A well-dressed, tall fellow approaches the office. His steps are hurried at the sight of armed strangers near his office. As he approaches, he yells to the party, “Who are you people? And what is going on here? Why are there bloody creatures near my broken window?”

Bandric scratches his head, ‟Well, it’s not that long of a story, actually.”

-

The Dungeon Knights sit in the merchant’s office. The well-dressed fellow, Kelwyn, owns the small merchant company and smiles as Chalándril relates the story of the goblins. ‟Oh, very good.” Kelwyn adds, ‟This is fortuitous. The gods’ blessings shine upon me this day. You seem like a tough, professional lot. I’d like to hire you for a small mission.”

‟About a week ago, one of my caravans went missing. It was last seen in Thanhal, across the river, heading here to Chulan. I lost a lot of money, but more importantly, I lost very expensive and important keys. They’re magical keys. I’d like you to find these bandits and recover my keys. I’d like to recover all my goods, too, but the keys are very important to me.”

Tolok strokes his goatee, ‟What do the keys unlock?”

‟Several months ago, I purchased a strange curio, a stone block much like the two you found. After much research, I learned that it was a key to a mysterious door. The mysterious door belongs to a strange, nearly forgotten temple. This temple requires these special keys to open, magic keys. Through informants and other research, I was able to locate two keys and paid for them through a courier. One of my men took possession of the keys and was heading back to deliver them to me. However, the caravan carrying these keys was attacked by bandits. I lost hope of getting the keys.” Kelwyn sits back in his chair. ‟However, you could find the keys for me, defeat the bandits, and earn some money. Of course, I want first pick on fencing any treasure you find.”

Bandric answers, ‟Agreed.”

The Dungeon Knights head to the General Store for provisions and some information. A small, square wood building sports a small sign that reads “Gringel Menk’s Pawnshop”. The door opens easily into a shallow, empty room. There’s a locked door on the right and a long, barred counter that extends to the left. A short line of customers forms at the window, where Gringel processes the order or negotiates prices.

Chalándril approaches the window, ‟Good day, Menk, we’d like to ask thee some questions. We hope thee knowest some answers.”

The customers in line scowl at the elf lady. As the party approaches, the customers notice the arms and armor adorning most of Chalándril’s friends, so the customers back up a few steps. The thin, hollow-cheek man with a hooked nose scoffs. ‟What information do you think I have?”

‟Well, ‟ begins Chalándril, ‟We hope thy knowest something of the bandits around town, or about the goblins.”

‟Hmm,” remarks Menk. His beady eyes look at his palm. His fingers move as if grasping something. ‟Those sound like strange things. How could I know about those things?”

Bandric slams five silver pieces on the counter. ‟For thy itch, Master Menk.”

‟Ah yes,” a cruel smile emerges on Menk’s face. His yellow, crooked teeth revealed by his thin lips. ‟I do seem to recall something about the bandits...and the goblins. You seek the same group.”

Bandric adds three more silver coins to the counter. Menk purses his lips in delight. ‟The little goblins do come in from time to time, at night mostly, to sell their loot for coin. They’re not too good at counting I might add. I give them a fair cut and they’re happy. From my dealings with them, I think they’re living near the old Telshin Farmstead – abandoned earlier this year when the Master Telshin joined the Baron’s army. No one’s been there in months. It’d make a fine spot to hold up for a while. Eh?”

Chalándril turns, ‟Thank thee, Master Menk. Thou hast been a great help.”

‟Would you like to buy a map to his house?”

-

The Dungeon Knights follow the crude map along dirt roads and game paths along the grazing fields. The path forks ahead. One path bends to the right, leading into a dense forest. Eerie noises emanate from those dark sylvan depths. The other path leads to the left into an overgrown farm field. Bandric exclaims, ‟There’s no fork on the map? Which way should we go?”

Chalándril says, ‟I’d say towards the overgrown farm.”

‟I don't’ think either matters.” Merimonwë’s ears perk up. ‟I hear wolves and goblins coming. Their shrill voices are so distinct.”

From the woods comes three wolf-mounted goblins with cleavers held high. The wolves run with tongues out. Gûltar takes out his ax. ‟Here we go again!”

Two arrows fire from Bandric’s bow. The arrows find purchase in the far rider’s chest. ‟That should even the odds in our favor.”

Merimonwë’s eyes glow with green light. ‟Fireball!” She throws a green glowing ball of light towards the wolf-mounted goblins. Boom! Three goblins and three wolves fly into the air from the fiery explosion beneath their legs. The enemies land with a thud.

‟Charge!” yells Gûltar.

The wounded wolves are the first to regain their footing and sprint off towards the woods. Gûltar sets upon the lead goblin and hacks him to bits. Chalándril and Kotyka make short work of the last goblin.

‟Let’s loot and leave.” Bandric instructs.

-

A low fence surrounds a traditional Sumer farmstead. The sturdy farmhouse and large barn dominate the enclosure. There’s a shed, smokehouse, well, and outhouse on the property. Unlike the farm fields, weeds and overgrowth don’t choke this living area. Also, the farmhouse lacks doors.

The barn doors are open, allowing the cool breeze to blow through the stalls. Several goblins sit around a makeshift table playing a dice game. Off to one side is a large wagon with a few boxes. Painted on the side of the wagon is the seal of Kelwyn’s Merchant Company.

Bandric whispers, ‟This must be the place.”

The Dungeon Knights carefully work their way over the low farmstead wall and closer to the barn. Kotyka slips into the shadows and sneaks closer to the talking goblins. Goblins talk around a table. Their voices are shrill and sharp to the ear. The taller goblin wears tattered robes and strokes a pet toad. He looks around with narrowed eyes.

One of the goblins asks, ‟Kio estas tio, Gak?”

A toothy smile emerges on Gak’s face, ‟Warty says we have guests in the barn.”

Kotyka gasps from the shadows. Gak continues, ‟Some are closer than others is seems.”

Gûltar and Bandric move into the bar, followed closely by Chalándril and the others. Gak lifts his arms, says ‟Burning hands”, and a sheet of fire springs forth engulfing Gûltar and Bandric in flames. Gak’s goblin friends leap towards the flames with swords in hand.

Tolok unleashes his magic missiles towards Gak, but they are blocked by an invisible shield. Gak laughs, ‟Is that all thy magical might?”

Kotyka’s sword pierces Gak’s chest from behind. ‟No, it is not.”

Chalándril, Gûltar and Bandric fight the goblins in a pitched battle. Gûltar’s ax beheads two goblins and guts the third. Bandric’s sword drips with goblin blood. He says, ‟Gûltar, leave me something to slay once in a while.”

Gûltar looks at Chalándril’s mace matted with pieces of goblin flesh. ‟Do I have to share with both of you?”

After defeating the goblins, our heroes are left to explore the remaining camp and lair for treasure, supplies and clues. Gûltar drops a large crate on the floor and sighs. “These goblins sure have a lot of crap.”

Kotyka is kneeling on the floor sorting the loot into piles. “Just put the stuff we don’t want here in this pile. Put the other stuff we don’t like over there, out of the way. Only take the things with the most value that we can sell back in town.” She looks over the piles of bric-a-brac, worn goblin armor and scruffy weapons. Thoughtfully she says, “Sometimes I wish we had a few pack mules or a large wagon…or both.”

Bandric nods to the Kelwyn wagon. ‟I’m sure we could make use of this wagon.”

‟But we don’t have any horses or mules.” Chalándril adds, ‟Besides, this wheel is broken.”

In due course, the Dungeon Knights emerge from the barn. Bandric and Gûltar are loaded down with overfilled bags, dragging large sacks, and backpacks bursting at the seams. Tolok mentions, “We could stock a small general store with these things. It is not the windfall we were hoping for but at least it will cover our expenses and provide for a few more weeks.”

Straining under the weight Bandric whimpers, “These backpacks are getting very heavy. Any chance you skinner folk want to lend a hand.” Tolok and Merimonwë look at him blankly.

“Uh”

Gûltar huffs, “Beh, that’s what we get for eating and drinking right. Tiu ke povas, ili havos labori.”

Merimonwë’s ears perk up. “Did you hear that?”

Bandric moans, “It’s just my breathing…or the snapping of my muscles. You needn’t worry. If I collapse under all this crap, at least I’ll be buried properly.”

“No, I think I hear something…else.”

“Now that you mention it, I do hear breathing. Not my breathing.” replies Bandric.

Out of the forest, two wolf riders and a few goblin warriors emerge from the tree line. The wolf pads beating rhythmically on the ground. The heavy breaths of the wolves driving at a steady beat. The larger, well-armored goblin yells, “Vi aŭdacas invadi la hejmon de Penjo Fen la forta? Preĝu nun malamikoj. Mortos vi hodiaŭe!”

The over-burden Gûltar sighs audibly beneath the sacks, boxes and backpack. “They’re attacking us now? We’re too busy for a fight.”

Penjo Fen announces, “Kontraŭulo, vin havas la mortdeziron. Ataku!”

Gûltar slough off the packs and draws his axe with great speed. Well if we have a death wish, now’s a good a time as any, I suppose.”

Bandric tries to drop his load but it unbalances and sends him to the ground. “Gûltar, thou may need to do this thyself.”

Meshtik Nhol, the goblin priest on the other wolf, says, “Timu nian fortegon. Ci estos morti unue, barbaroj!”

-

Penjo Fen charges towards Gûltar, driving the lance towards the defiant dwarf. Gûltar side steps the lance, hewing into pieces. Quickly he spins and slices the wolf across the mid section. The riding wolf collapses in a pile of blood, fur, and dirt. The rider Penjo Fen, however, lands on his feet and quickly draws his sword. Eye to eye, the two short warriors begin a long melee of clashing blades.

Meshtik Nhol, focuses his efforts on supporting Penjo. He rides past the archer Bandric, whacking him with a spiked mace. Reeling from the pain, Bandric is unable to answer the attack. He yells, “We need to focus our attacks. Help Gûltar with his opponent. We’ll deal with the others later.”

Merimonwë looks at the group with intense focus. Chalándril moves to protect the two spellcasters. Tolok begins to summon his support team of astral badgers. Meshtik Nhol circles around towards the incoming goblin gang. He barks some orders and the goblins begin to run towards the Knights.

Merimonwë whispers under her breath, “Come on and clump up.” Meshtik Nhol casts a spell on his forces.

Tolok mentions this, “He is fortifying the warriors. They are much stronger now.” Three of his badgers appear out of nowhere and surround Penjo Fen. “Meri, are thou thinking what I am thinking.”

“Gotcha!” says Merimonwë unconsciously. “Fireball!” A glowing, green ball flies through the air and lands in the midst of the goblins. Instantly, it explodes in a huge ball of fire.

“I guess thou art. Fireball!” commands Tolok. A second glowing ball flies through the air and it too explodes in a ball of scorching hot fire. Out of the smoke, dust and dirt cloud, a lone armored goblin emerges. Blackened by the fire, Meshtik Nhol limps out of the inferno towards the combat. The smoke settles showing the burnt remains of goblins and a wolf scattered in a charred circle.

Merimonwë crosses her arms pridefully. “That worked better than expected.”

Chalándril says, “The priest is still up. We shouldn’t celebrate until the combat is truly over.”

Merimonwë’s eyes tighten. “Fine!”

She shoots a bolt of energy from her hands. It traverses the field in a flash striking the goblin priest in the head. He falls to one knee and then collapses on to the ground. Merimonwë smirks and looks over to Chalándril. “Now can I celebrate?”

Meanwhile, the three badgers distract and agitate Penjo Fen. With his sword, the goblin warrior cuts one badger in half. He turns and stabs a second in the body. Gûltar takes the opportunity to strike Penjo across the body. Defiantly, Penjo counter attacks and swings at the dwarf. Gûltar blocks the strike and drives the pick end into Penjo’s skull right through his helmet. Penjo’s body goes limp.

Chalándril looks over at Gûltar standing over the Penjo’s body, his axe dripping blood. “Yes, now thee can celebrate.”

Kotyka says, “I didn’t understand a thing they were saying. I wish I knew their goblin language.”

Gûltar begins to clean his axe and says, “The leaders aren’t speaking Goblinese. The grunts were. The leaders were speaking our merchant language Koinwer. It’s easier for goblins to learn, than for us to learn their vile languages. Then we don’t have to foul our mouths with their bestial sounds.”

“Where’d they learn Koinwer?”

Gûltar pulls on his beard in thought, “Actually, why are all these goblins so well trained for battle. It’s unlike them. Goblins tend to be more savage and chaotic…and hungry.”

-

Chalándril locates a few small handcarts that the Dungeon Knights confiscate for their use. Bandric and Kotyka search the goblin tents and other buildings around the area. While Bandric is nudging a dead goblin body, he hears a muffled noise. “Does anyone else hear that? There’s something over there.”

He points towards the shed. The Dungeon Knights surround the shed. The sounds of thumping and muffled cries drift from the shed. Kotyka, the group’s door expert, opens the door to find the shed filled with storage items. Gûltar steps inside boldly only to find a tied up human with wide eyes. The muffled cries continue. Kotyka moves in to untie and un-gag the mysterious stranger. Once free, the bearded gentleman fixes his hair and stands up. “I am most grateful that you saved me. This is most fortunate. I assume that you have dispatched the guards and other members of the group.”

Gûltar nods, wondering if Kotyka was too hasty with removing the gag. “My name is Tol Muskegum. I’m a professor for the Royal University at Khab. I was just returning from studies over in Sakkal. They have a splendid collection of old Yhavian tablets and such. Anyway, these goblins were about to kill me but I convinced them to stop. Luckily, I’m fluent in three dialects of goblin and persuaded them I’d make a better hostage than a dead body. Greed is a very strong trait in this line of goblin. Why, my research shows…”

“Yes,” Gûltar thinks, “she was too hasty.”

While Professor Muskegum continues to ramble on, Tolok listens with interest but all the others begin searching the shed for valuables or useful supplies. Chalándril digs through various sacks. Merimonwe searches shelves and piles. Bandric and Gûltar lift heavy things. It is Kotyka, when she opens a strange box, finds something interesting. Two long stone blocks, carved from a dark marble, have gold inlaid sigils on the hexagonal tip. “What do you think these are?”

Bandric looks over and replies, “I don’t know. Just pack it and let’s get out of here before we end up fighting more goblins.”

Before long, the company head back towards Chulon fully laden with smelly goblin loot. The Dungeon Knights enter the plaza. “Does anyone remember where Kelwyn’s place was?”

-

The cheerful faced merchant listens to the Dungeon Knights retell their story. He nods his head. “Of course I’ll take these items off your possession. I’d be happy to compensate you at fair market value. It’s the least I can do for…” The merchant Kelwyn’s eyes light up. He walks over to Kotyka who is idly playing with the strange stone blocks.

“Oh joy, you did find the keys.”

“Keys?” blurts Kotyka.

“Yes, keys! There are nine keys in all. I found more information about the keys while you were gone.”

Kelwyn sits down, exhausted from his excitement. “The door resides somewhere in a temple called Shumhanrhu. Don’t bother asking, I know not where it is.”

“Perhaps I could be of help.” Prof. Muskegum adds. “I am familiar with many research techniques, languages, and decoding scripts.”

Kelwyn smiles, “I would be honored and willing to pay you for your help.”

“Let’s get started.” Kelwyn glances over at the blank stares of the Dungeon Knights. “Oh right! Here, take these coins as partial payment. There are a few hundred silver guilders. If you require more, come back here.”

Kotyka swipes the pouch off the table before it has time to settle. Bandric grabs her arm before she has time to run out in the streets. “Kotyka, these are for everyone…to share.”

“I knew that.” She says sheepishly.

What will the professor and the merchant uncover about the keys? Find out next issue.

==================================================================

Location: Inside goblin territory

Dungeon Knight Roster:

Bandric (Human Ranger 5)

Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 5)

Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 5)

Kotyka (Half-ork Rogue 5)

Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 5)

Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 5)

==================================================================

“Goblins smell worse than their pet wolves.” – Bandric

==================================================================

This adventure is based on the one I wrote for the RPGA-sanctioned Living Greyhawk campaign set in Nyrond. It was originally from my home campaign featured here in these stories.

Issue 014: Machinations of the Wolf-Lord

Confronted with a powerful goblin wolf rider and his soldiers, the Dungeon Knights are thwarted in their hunt for the Harbinger of Doom. The dangerous creature is leaving death and destruction in its wake. Will the heroes be able to defeat the wolf riders and finally locate their elusive target? Or will they become embroiled in the machinations of an evil wolf-lord?

The enraged goblin warrior Duyal is leaping to attack Gûltar. His twin cleavers are swinging wildly in the air hoping to find purchase in the flesh of the dwarf. As he lands, Gûltar blocks the rapid blades with his ax. The metal-on-metal clangs send sparks in the air. Gûltar delivers a counter-attack but is blocked by the skilled goblin. Duyal flurries again, yet each of his blades is thwarted by the ax.

Kotyka takes up position behind the goblin. Duyal’s demeanor grows dark. His anger inflamed by the appearance of another, taller opponent. The teamwork of sword and ax prove Duyal’s undoing. With a final, powerful swing, Gûltar removes the little goblin’s head from his armored body. With his left hand, Gûltar snatches the bleeding head from the ground and raises it up.

Looking down at the mighty dwarf, Kotyka decides to take the head from his hand and raise it higher. Like a banner in the wind, the sight of the goblin leader’s death sends the few remaining goblins into a panic. Both the goblins and their mounts flee the field. Bandric shoots a few arrows into the fleeing goblins, taking another two down with his skills. “That’ll teach them to mess with us again.”

Bandric removes his hood. He scans the area for hidden enemies or the source of his suspicion. “Over there! Someone is hiding in the bushes.”

A simply dressed human rises from behind a thick bush. He waves his hands frantically. “Whoa. No need to shoot me. I’m not a goblin. See I’m human.”

The archer nocks his bow, ready for a surprise attack. Chalándril walks over to Bandric and speaks to the townsman, “Explain yourself quickly, human. Or you will die, hesitating.”

He gulps loudly. “I heard the goblins coming so I hid. That’s when they ambushed you. I wasn’t about to come out during the fight. I’m only a simple farmer. Please don’t kill me.”

Chalándril puts her hand on Bandric’s arm. He lowers the bow. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from a nearby town. It’s really close, honest.” The townsman sees the bloody ax and goblin head. “Please don’t hurt me.”

-

The town market is bustling with activity. Bandric dodges running children and matronly women trying to get the best deal from the merchants. “I lost the trail outside of town. I don’t know where the Harbinger is or where it’s headed.”

Chalándril adds, “If it came near this town, I’m sure we would hear of it. Humans are a gossipy bunch. News like that would be the talk of the market.”

Merimonwë’s eyes drift from shiny object to shiny object among the merchant booths. She is half listening to the discussion of her companions regarding the rather annoying and dangerous Harbinger. Her gaze drifts to the peasants and townsfolk walking around. The elf thinks, “These humans are so dirty. Yuck!”

Then her eyes widen and ears perk up. With her body tense, she looks side to side. Catching sight of something familiar, her eyes narrow. Merimonwë’s mouth opens as she strains to recognize the familiar image. The sorceress’s hand rises and points. In a burst, she blurts out, “That’s the guy!”

The others turn towards Merimonwë. “Hey, I remember him. He’s the guy who sold us the information about the dungeon holding Mr. Ugly.” Her finger stabs the air repeatedly. “That’s the guy. Him. Over there!”

Bandric starts taking steps towards the man. He draws his bow in one fluid motion. “Gûltar, watch the others. Catch up when you can. We’ll get the informant. Come on Tolok, Kotyka.”

By the last word, Bandric has hit his stride. Most of the others begin running after the mysterious man. Chalándril and Gûltar are caught off guard and attempt to follow as quickly as they can. The others, including a floating Tolok, dash through the crowded streets and plazas. Weaving and jumping through the crowds, Bandric gains on the surprised man. Tolok, however, is floating above head height and gets a clear view. The man ducks into an alley only to discover it is a dead end. He frantically looks for a door or ladder. When Tolok turns the corner he casts his spell. Black tentacles emerge from the space around the human, entangling him in a tight grip. He falls to the ground. In a vain attempt to wiggle free the man tries to shake. Bandric approaches and aims an arrow at his head. “I suggest you stay still, my friend. We have some questions to ask you.”

The green-skinned Kotyka stands next to Bandric. Kotyka tilts her head to the side, then knocks him out with her sap.

When the man wakes up, he sees the alley and market streets above. His head is flush and his hair is on end. Looking down she sees a muscular dwarf holding his leg over the edge of a building. The dwarf wiggles his leg. “Good morning sunshine. Talk or else I’ll drop you.”

“Why are you doing this?” squawks the man.

Bandric answers. “Well, we tried this on the ground but the dwarf is short than you. It didn’t seem as intimidating, so we decided to hang you over the edge to compensate for his stature.” The man realizes that the back of his head is throbbing. He reaches behind and feels a fresh mat of dried blood. “Oh, I forgot to mention, Gûltar had to drag you up the stairs. Sorry about that.”

“Alright! Please don’t drop me…or drag me. Just bring me in. I’ll tell you everything I know. It’s not much. I was paid to tell you about the dungeon and feed you the story. That’s it. I swear. Please!” The con man starts to cry, tears rolling down his forehead.

Bandric asks, “What do you mean you were paid to tell us about the dungeon?”

“A goblin paid me real gold to find adventurers to go into the dungeon. Not copper or silver—real gold and lots of it. You guys looked tough enough, eh? You’re here aren’t you so you must have survived?” Gûltar brings the man on the roof.

Bandric slaps him in the face. ‟Keep talking!”

“Goblins are fairly common around these parts. It’s not that usual to see one in town—really.”

“You idiot! It was a setup. That dungeon held a great evil, which killed dozens of people so far. You helped the goblins use us. More people may die because of you!”

The crying man continues, “I didn’t know. It all seemed legit, more or less. A little bit of coin, a little bit of information…” He looks over to Chalándril. “Priestess, please don’t kill me.”

She slaps his hands away and says angrily, “You led us to the dungeon and we released that …that evil upon everyone. We were trying to find few things to sell not put people in harm’s way. We must find this goblin and kill him. Whatever his plans are, they can not be good. Killing him will at least bring justice to those already slain.”

Merimonwë leans in. “How do we know he’s not a she? Or even what this goblin looks like?”

Gûltar kicks the con man. “As long as I get the killing blow, I’m in.”

“Does anyone listen to me?” Merimonwë asks. The other Knights are deep in thought. The con man begins to inch away. “Hello? I’m making a point here.”

Bandric puts his foot on the fleeing con man. ‟Hold on there, my friend. Not so fast.”

Pulling on his beard, the gnome wizard adds, “Let us return to our rooms and plan the next phase of our investigation.”

-

In the dark goblin lair surrounded by his goblin and wolf troops, Yorgeth Mar emerges from his trance. The glowing symbol on his forehead begins to fade. “Duyal has failed. These mercenaries are more resilient than the Master anticipated—and possibly more powerful too. It’s time for a more successful visit.” He motions towards some dark-masked goblins. “They’re in the town. Go! Kill them all.”

-

The large moon Chana is full in the clear night sky. The smaller Shirak shines about three-quarters full. A bluish light shines around the dark silhouette of the town’s buildings. Only a few rats squeak break the deafening silence of the still night. The light pounding of small supple feet is barely audible. Small, black-clothed figures leap from roof top to rooftop. Their motions are nimble and swift. They move with a singular purpose wasting neither time nor effort to reach their target.

Elsewhere in the sleepy town in an average inn, Gûltar removes his shirt. His thick chest hair and fair stomach are exposed to the lantern light. Tolok has already made room on the bed he shares with the equally short dwarf. Bandric takes his armor off and leans it against the wall. “This is a welcome change, sleeping indoors rather than outside at the mercy of roving bands of brigands or worse.”

Outside their window, three hooded heads peer upside down into the lit room watching the men chat before bed. As one they raise their heads back to toward the roof. Sargeth, the leader, makes a hand gesture. In moments, Sargeth leaps into the window shattering the glass onto the floor. He lands with a gentle thud. Other dark-clad figures stream into the room landing catlike grace. They draw their short swords.

Gûltar, still scratching his chest, looks shocked at the arrival of uninvited guests. Bandric sighs and says, “We really need to stay at better places.”

“Just give me my ax so I can pay for room service.”

Sharp darts whiz by Bandric’s head. “Damn, don’t they know I don’t have my armor on yet?”

Gûltar punches the black-clothed intruder in the face. The bone-cracking sound echoes. “Hey, they smell like goblins.”

Two of the goblin assassins leap into the air with their swords drawn. Gûltar leaps to meet them in the air, throwing his meaty shoulder into their thin bodies. He lands smashing their bodies into the wall. “They bleed like goblins too!”

Several other goblin ninjas swarm over Gûltar, attempting to restrain the strong warrior. Moments later, the goblins fly off the enraged, bare-chested dwarf. “Arrrh!”

Bandric reaches over and finds his sword. With a graceful draw, he slices into an attacking goblin. Gûltar shouts, “That’s not my ax! Get my ax!”

“At least I have a weapon in my hand. Where’d you put it?”

“Under the bed, so I can grab it while I sleep.” Retorts Gûltar. He puts a goblin in a headlock and snaps his neck with a loud pop. “This reminds me of my youth as a bar fighter.”

“You mean bouncer, right?”

“No lad, I started fights in bars. The bouncers tried to drum me out of the pub.” Gûltar dodges another flying dart. Then he kicks a goblin in the stomach.

“Good thing you’re their height. If I kicked any of them, I might kick over their heads.” Bandric’s blade is parried by the goblin’s sword. He twists his hand and lunges piercing the goblin’s head. Leaning down, he retrieves the ax from his hiding place. He tosses the ax to Gûltar. “Looking for this short stuff?”

With the ease of well-trained soldier, Gûltar snatches the ax out of the air and swings fluidly. The strike hews a goblin in half. Continuing his swing, rotating it into a downward strike, he drives the pick end into the head of the next goblin. The remaining goblins square off against the bare-chested Gûltar. He grins, “Now this is a fight!”

From the safety of his bed, Tolok points, “That is the leader, there in the shadowy corner.” The gnome then casts his magic bolt nearly knocking Sargeth to the ground.

Bandric glares at him, “I’m sorry if we disturbed your sleep, m’lord. We’ll shoo these cretins out of our chambers right away.”

The archer steps forward to engage the leader, while Gûltar hews through several more goblins. Finally, Bandric and Gûltar have Sargeth cornered. With a great swing, Gûltar slashes Sargeth across the face sending blood spraying onto the door.

The door opens and Chalándril peeks her head into the room. “Tell me you didn’t kill all of them? We need to interrogate one of them and find their lair.”

Bandric looks at Gûltar sheepishly. He returns the look. Bandric replies, “Uh well, you see…”

-

The outcroppings and ledges of the cavern are filled with goblin warriors standing casually. A large worm-like creature squirms its way into the cavern, using its tentacles to propel itself across the rough terrain. The spear-armed goblins watch the horrible monster as it slides deeper into their lair. Near the center of the large chamber stands the gaunt and scarred witchdoctor Yorgeth Mar. The goblin lord blows gently into a small steel whistle.

The goblin warriors surrounding Yorgeth Mar back up creating a large clear area for the Harbinger to move into. It stops in front of Yorgeth and bows to the small figure. Yorgeth pats the monster on the rough, stony skin. “Very good my pet, you have done well.”

The Harbinger clicks and gurgles its acknowledgment. Yorgeth tosses down a large slab of meat onto the ground. A long tube extends from the Harbinger and sprays acid onto the meat. Moments later, the gooey soup of liquefied meat puddles in a steamy bath. The tube lowers even further and begins to slurp up the fleshy soup. “I have great plans for you my pet.”

-

In the morning, the Knights have eaten a small meal and dressed in their armor. Bandric looks puzzled, “Someone sent two goblin hit teams after us. Others may get lucky and kill us. Maybe we should stop chasing this Harbinger thing and do something else? Something like killing the mysterious someone.”

Gûltar stops cleaning his ax and leans on the handle, “Ya know I’m not built for chasing. I’m more of a close-quarters fighter.”

Kotyka just stands near the shadowy corner and stares. Merimonwë adds, “What will we do when we find the Harbinger? It nearly killed us last time. Hold on, is anyone...”

Merimonwë’s last sentence is interrupted by Chalándril, “We released that horror. We must slay the Harbinger. There are no other options. Take a vote if you like but this is what we are doing. Any questions?”

The others nod.

-

A few days later at the goblin lair, the cloaked master checks the lashings on the covered wagon. He turns to Yorgeth and says, “Lagoch has summoned me. Keep the Harbinger safe from harm.”

“Yes Master Ithayek, as you command. It seems the Harbinger provided the objects you sought.”

Ithayek’s fangs appear in his toothy grin. “Yes, exactly what I needed. Once you finish with these distractions, join me so we can check on my special children and the pups. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your handy work.”

The one-eyed Yorgeth bows, “Yes master.”

-

For several days, the Knights track the Harbinger’s trail through the wilderness. The trail leads to the goblin camp within the wooded hills. Attempting to remain quiet and unseen, the Knights work their way through a thick section of the forest underbrush. There they see a camp nestled closely to a hillside cave. Kotyka whispers, “I should scout the perimeter.”

“You go left.” Bandric adds, “And I’ll take the right.”

Kotyka silently moves around to the left side of the camp checking for defenses, guards, and other vital information. As she sits observing, an unaware goblin guard walks over to her location. He stands half-heatedly watching for danger. Kotyka slowly unsheathes her sword and inches towards the ineffectual guard. With a well-placed thrust, the guard’s dead body collapses into the brush. Kotyka drags his bleeding carcass deeper into the woods and tucks it into the hollow of a tree.

After a few minutes, Bandric returns to his group. “There are some sentries near the main entrance. However, the outside camp appears empty.” His acute senses are distracted, causing him to look to around. “Did any of you see that?”

He spots three armored goblin warriors. A rather large goblin in the center holds up his spear and yells, “Mi nomiĝas Turgach Fen, preparas morti!”

Gûltar whips out his ax. “Well, I must hand it to the guy he’s direct and over-confident.”

‟Gultar, what did he say?”

Chalándril draws her mace and stands up authoritatively. She commands, “By the holy might of the Great Mother, lay down your weapons and surrender.”

Bandric whispers to Gûltar, “I wouldn’t have gone with that play.” Gûltar just shrugs.

One of the goblin warriors responds, “Elf, you and your motley crew are clearly overmatched. Our leader will gut you like fishes.”

Bandric again whispers, this time to Merimonwë, “Did he just speak our language?”

Merimonwë replies, “I think he did.”

Chalándril points her mace towards the humanish-speaking goblin. “This is your last chance or my wrath will be relentless.”

The goblin warrior Kalach chuckles, “Ha! Obviously, Elven eyes are not as k…” An arrow pierces his neck. The goblin’s eyes widen as he slumps in his saddle.

“…as ugly as goblin eyes. That’s what he was going to say. Chal, your eyes are beautiful.”

“Thank you and nice shot Bandric.”

“I aim to please Priestess.” A small spear hits Bandric in the shoulder knocking him to the ground. “Eeow!”

Turgach Fen draws a morning star and says, “Sufiĉe babilanta! Ĝi estas fojon ke vi mortas.”

The great warrior charges forward, hitting Merimonwe with a forceful blow. The elven sorceress collapses onto the ground. Turgach Fen swings his weapon around to the other side blocking a mighty blow from Gûltar. The small, skilled warriors begin to trade blows in a vicious melee.

The third goblin Tuvach warrior pounces onto Chalándril. Tuvach blocks her attacks skillfully and counters with a solid blow to her ribs. The priestess falls to the ground unconscious. Bandric’s arrow clips the goblin, causing the warrior to spin towards the wounded archer. Tuvach rushes towards Bandric and knocks Bandric out with a lucky blow to the head. The goblin asks his leader, “Kie estas la gnomo?”

“Mi ne sciias, jus helpas min!”

Tuvach moves to flank the dwarf. Gûltar says, “Oh, no you don’t!”

Gûltar steps back and cleaves into the goblin’s head. The lifeless body slides off his ax. But the pommel of the morning star connects with the dwarf’s face knocking him unconscious. Turgach Fen places his foot on Gûltar’s body and says proudly, “Enano, vi batalis bone. Ve, mi ne estas ŝvitanta ĉar cia lerteco estas malbonega.”

“Summon Monster!”

Turgach Fen readies his morning star. “Kiu parolas?”

Three mean-looking badgers appear surrounding the mighty goblin warrior. They attack him with their claws and teeth. “Ne hodiaŭ, bestojn!”

A sword point emerges from his chest. His lifeless body slides off the metal blade. Kotyka looks around at the badgers. “That’ll do badger friends. That’ll do.”

Chalándril’s head rises off the ground. A small vial appears next to her mouth and pours liquid between her lips. The voice of Tolok says, “Quickly, I found where they are hiding the monster.”

The priestess heals her team. They regroup and move towards the camp. The Knights quickly search the tents for goblins. None of the remaining guards put up sufficient resistance to slow the Knights’ progress towards the mysterious cavern. Cautiously, they enter the dark cave mouth and work their way towards the large chamber in the back. The chamber is filled with make-shift nests filled with branches, mud, and leaves. Each nest has deep, melon-sized depressions. Confused, the Knights move in to inspect the nests. That’s when Bandric notes, “Is it bad that these look like weird nests or bad that they’re empty?”

-

A thin, bare-chested goblin with a thick scar across his right eye stands in front of a large serpentine creature with large tentacles. His skin looks like fleshy bark. Yorgeth Mar says calmly, “I’m so glad you could join us. Unfortunately, now you must die.”

“Yes,” Gûltar retorts as he readies his ax, “We’ve heard that before.”

Bandric adds, “Hey, he found the Harbinger for us.”

The archer shoots one of the beam tentacles with an arrow. It falls limp, dangling at the Harbinger’s side. The Harbinger shoots his other beams at Merimonwë. This time, they fizzle against her magical shield. Tolok unleashes magic bolts of energy against the Harbinger. Now visible, he scoots behind Chalándril for cover.

Yorgeth Mar grows angry. “Your usefulness to us is at an end. Via utileco al ni finas. Rraaa!!!”

The bark-skinned goblin grows fur, fangs, and claws. Now transformed into a bestial wolf, he jumps onto Gûltar using his claws to rip his helmet off. “Vian koron mi voros, stultulo.”

Merimonwë creates magical grease underneath the Harbinger, but its tentacles don’t slip. “Damn!”

“Bless this weapon, Great Mother!” Chalándril’s glowing hand touches Gûltar’s ax, transferring her magical boon onto the weapon. The savage wolf-goblin swings at the priestess, snarling and gnashing his teeth. Bandric continues to shoot the Harbinger, peppering its body with arrows. Finally, Tolok moves over to Gûltar and uses his magic to grow the dwarf to human size.

Gûltar pulls the canine goblin off and flings him to the ground. “Enough!”

With his other hand, he brings the ax down with a mighty swing. Yorgeth nimbly dodges the blow of the now larger dwarf. The Harbinger changes targets and begins to shoot at Kotyka. One of its rays hits her and forces her to fall to the ground.

“Kotyka!” yells Gûltar. He steps away from the feral goblin and chops a tentacle from monster’s body. Foul smelling liquid spurts out of the stump. The Harbinger uses its other tentacle to wrap around Gûltar’s ax arm. “By the Maker’s beard, not again! The monster has too many tentacles. Focus your weapons and spells on its trunk. Stay clear of its tentacles. I’ll take care of them.”

Gûltar pulls his arm free of the tentacles and chops another tentacle. Yorgeth Mar continues slashing away at Gûltar leaving gashes in his armor and flesh. The witchdoctor gets his arm around Gûltar’s neck and starts to choke the dwarf. Bandric unloads his arrows into the thick body of the Harbinger. Chalándril uses her mace to knock the wolf-goblin off of Gûltar.

Spinning towards Yorgeth Mar, Gûltar swings his ax decapitating the feral goblin. The goblin’s head rolls along the cavern floor. Gûltar wheezes, “That should make him stop.”

Bandric smiles, “What was that about focusing damage on the Harbinger?”

“Beh! I don’t follow orders well.” Gûltar turns and cleaves into the Harbinger’s body, hewing it in two. A wave of brackish liquid and squishy organs sprays over Gûltar. He stands triumphantly dripping. “At least we know it can die.”

-

In a distant location, a hooded Ithayek Mar holds a melon-sized egg in his hands. The room is filled with similar eggs nestled in makeshift nests. A goblin warrior enters the nest room. “What is it Shachten Mar?”

“Master, Yorgeth Mar is dead.”

The hooded goblin-lord turns back to admire the room. “We have what we really need. Eh, send a team to retrieve his body, if they can. I may have a use for him yet.”

What does Ithayek Mar want with the eggs? Only he knows. Next issue, the Dungeon Knights tackle a new problem hatched by the deeds of the goblins.

=======================================================================
Location: The Goblin Hills

Dungeon Knight Roster:

Bandric (Human Ranger 5)

Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 5)

Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 5)

Kotyka (Half-ork Rogue 5)

Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 5)

Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 5)

=======================================================================
“You'd think there'd be less goblins with the number we've killed.” – Bandric
=======================================================================

Issue 013: The Harbinger of Doom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“They are heading further into the vault.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Finally! Some real action!” Gûltar yells.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my…”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

Bandric adds, “I could use more arrows.”

Tolok continues, “I need tobacco and…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who will be the victor? Find out next issue.

=======================================================================

Location: A dungeon in the Hill of Tombs

=======================================================================

Dungeon Knight Roster:

Bandric (Human Ranger 5)

Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 5)

Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 5)

Kotyka (Half-ork Rogue 5)

Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 5)

Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 5)

=======================================================================

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

=======================================================================