Lazybones
Adventurer
Travels through the Wild West
Book IV
Prologue
S’reth shivered as the cold wind swirled around her as she stared out over the vista laid out before her. She folded her arms around her torso as dark thoughts twisted through her mind. It wasn’t that she was unused to the cold; it was cold at Hlaungadath as well, a bitter cold that could chill the bones and freeze the very blood within your veins. But there, at least, there was shelter, and warm fires, and companionship.
S’reth snorted, and turned away from the ledge. Such musings would not further her purpose now, she thought, as she noticed one of her servants approaching.
The ogre loomed over her, the mass of its body many times her own, its muscled form wrapped in several layers of thick furs that added to its bestial appearance. It bore a huge maul that was more than half-again the length of an adult human, but its demeanor as it approached S’reth was deferential, and its broken speech as it addressed her was respectful.
“Mistress,” it told her, “You wished be told, when the diggin’ was done.”
“You’ve uncovered the entrance to the chamber, then?” she asked.
“Yes’m,” the ogre rumbled.
Just for fun, S’reth motioned as if to touch the ogre’s arm, and was rewarded as it drew hastily back, alarm flashing in its eyes. Good, she thought. The ogres still feared her, at least.
The thought brought an unsatisfactory memory, however, and her expression darkened. The ogre withdrew another stride, thinking perhaps that her anger was directed at it. Annoyed now with the creature, S’reth motioned to it in dismissal. “Rejoin the others at the ruin. I will join you there shortly.”
As the ogre retreated, S’reth glanced back out over the vista once more. Ignoring the persistent wind, she cast her gaze out to the east, over the vast landscape that stretched before her. Hlaungadath was invisible at this distance, of course, but she imagined that she could feel its presence, far away yet close in her thoughts.
You mocked me, T’roth, just like all of them, she thought, her bitterness leaving a tangible taste in her throat. You drove me out, and expected that would be the end of me. Soon, though, I’ll be back, and I’ll make you pay.
The thought warmed her some as she turned and headed off to rejoin her servants.
* * * * *
Once the ogres had worked aside the heavy stone block that warded the entrance to the underground chamber, S’reth entered the dark space beyond. The air was stale, and cold, and filled with an ancient aura of lingering power that S’reth could feel on her bare skin like a cloying mist. She shivered again, and it was not from the cold.
“Remain here, and wait for my call,” she commanded the ogres, who were only too happy to comply. She’d learned that the ogres of these mountains had tales that spoke of places such as this, legends that bore lessons of secrets best left undiscovered. The four that remained in her service were bound to her, now, but she’d had to use frequent pressure to overcome their aversion to coming here.
Beyond the slab lay a corridor that sloped slightly downward into darkness ahead. The stone blocks that made up the walls were weathered with age, and the faint plumes of dust raised by her passage indicated that she was the first to enter here in a long, long time. The first, hopefully, to plume the secrets left here from a bygone age.
S’reth felt a tingle of excitement pass through her as she saw that the corridor opened onto a chamber up ahead. The light from the open slab that led up to the ruin had faded almost into nothing, so she paused to call up a pale glow from her hand that pushed back the shadows enough for her to see.
The chamber was fashioned into the shape of a octagon, with thick stone buttresses at each corner that ran together into a supporting ring of heavy stone in the center of the ceiling twenty feet above. It was immediately clear that this place had not fully weathered whatever calamities had struck down the ruin above; great cracks rent the stone walls in places, and in a few places loose rubble and great clods of earth had fallen into the room from more significant breaches. Several metal items shone in the light of her spell, including a pair of ancient braziers along the walls that despite the tarnish of many years glinted with the unmistakable shine of pure silver.
S’reth hardly noticed such trifles, however, as her attention was drawn immediately to the great circle in the center of the room.
Intact! she thought, passing through the arch that marked the transition from the corridor to the chamber proper. She felt another tingle as she passed through that threshold, but this one was tangible, not a byproduct of her own anticipation. A faint magical aura that did not originate from her sent a quiver through her, a lingering power that was far beyond her own limited magical skills. Then, as if in response, flames erupted in the twin braziers, shedding a bright radiance throughout the chamber.
The magic, it’s still potent, after all this time… S’reth thought. She felt the delicious tremor of fear in the pit of her belly, and her instincts told her to leave this place and its secrets behind, but her ambition—and her injured pride—drove her inexorably forward.
The light of the flames more fully revealed what she had seen earlier, the large stone ring that dominated the center of the chamber floor. A single slab of unbroken stone formed a circle a full ten paces across, its ruddy coloration a stark contrast to the plain gray granite that formed the rest of the chamber and the ruin outside. Although S’reth could not know this, the red stone was not native to these mountains, nor any place close to where she now stood.
The great circular stone was surrounded by a double ring traced in what appeared to be silver inlay, the thin lines unmarred by the tarnish or decay that marked everything else about this place. Traced within those parallel tracks were the spidery lines of runes, symbols in a language dead for centuries, lost to those who now walked upon the surface of Faerûn.
Lost to most, that is.
S’reth approached and bent low to examine the runes. She recognized the language, an arcane variation on the old tongue of Netheril, a language of power and secrets that had ultimately proved better forgotten. Her mother had taught her that ancient speech in secret, taught her to decipher the runes of power left behind on those faded remnants of that sundered human empire. That knowledge, scorned by the rest of her kind, had enabled her to uncover the location of this place, and the existence of the treasure that now lay before her, the power that was now within her grasp.
It had been a long search. For years she had placed her hopes on the more substantial ruin to the south, the ancient dwarf city that lay at the edges of her people’s realm. But the coming of the shadow-men to that forsaken place had ruined those plans, and she was not foolish enough to defy T’roth’s mandate that they avoid those dangerous newcomers.
Now, however, all her lonely searching, the risks and challenges she’d faced, were on the brink of fulfillment in the sweet coin of power. She rose and drew back from the circle, allowing herself to calm down from the tumultuous heights to which her conflicting emotions had lifted her.
There was no hurry, now.
Finally, she settled herself comfortably on the cold stone floor, and reached for the satchel that rode at her side. From within, she drew out a weathered stone tablet, so thin as to almost be like parchment, and carefully laid it out before her where the full light of the flames could brighten its surface.
Then, she began to read, uttering the ancient phrases in the language of a dead people.
* * * * *
S’reth stirred, feeling pain in her limbs as she became aware of her surroundings. She was lying on the floor, having drifted off to sleep once again.
She rose, trying to ignore the protests of her muscles as a result of resting on the uncomfortable stone. She was unaware of how much time had passed since she’d entered the underground level of the ruin. Had it been hours, even days? She felt hungry, but she also felt a vague sense of disconnect, as if the passage of time had started to move around her, merging her with the sense of timelessness that was present here in the vault.
She could still feel the tendrils of power within the room, tendrils that she’d helped to awaken with her invocations. She’d cast numerous spells from the scrolls she’d brought, and could feel the presence of the magic in the room, filling the very air, each forming a link with the stone ring in the center. Nothing she had done, however, had created a tangible result, for all her efforts.
She was reluctant to leave, but knew that the needs of her body would ultimately catch up to her. And the ogres, if they had remained above, would need to be tended to if their loyalty, ever tenuous, was to remain intact. With one more lingering look at the stone circle, she turned toward the exit corridor.
A noise drew her attention back toward the center of the chamber. It was like a faint buzzing, only audible on the edges of her perceptions, but as she watched in amazement it built rapidly into an almost painful crescendo. As the sound grew louder she could see something, too, a tiny pinprick of light hovering a few feet above the center of the circle. The light, too, grew rapidly, forming a roughly spherical haze that became so bright that she had to turn away for a moment. As she did, the sound culminated in a flash and an acrid smell of smoke filled her nostrils. The light had faded, and when she turned back toward the summoning circle she was no longer alone.
Her instincts screamed caution, and this time S’reth listened. She drew back into the shadows around the archway, and in addition called upon the power of her ring of shadows. That item, another bequest from her mother, had the power to cloak the wearer in a shroud of darkness, making one almost invisible when the lighting was sufficiently poor. Thus protected, she scanned the interior of the room as the haze began to thin.
There was a group of beings within the circle. For a moment S’reth’s heart caught in her chest—her intent hadn’t been to summon a group, just a minor fiend or two that she could more easily dominate and control. She relaxed, some, however, as she realized that the things she’d summoned weren’t very large, roughly the size of a man, and in fact one of them was downright small.
“What happened? Where are we?” one of them said. S’reth’s brow furrowed—the speaker used the common speech of Faerûn! Curious…
Her confusion deepened as the haze lifted enough for her to discern the summoned creatures more clearly. By the looks of them, they were a group of humans and demihumans—the short creature looked like a rock gnome, and a thick-bodied dwarf bearing an axe beside him, and two human females and one male behind them. And then, closest to her…
“Um, guys? I don’t think we’re alone here…”
The speaker was a tall figure, clad in a travel-ravaged tunic under which shone the shimmering metal links of chainmail fashioned of… mithral! Added to that revelation was the fact that this stranger, although he had the look of a human, bore faint traces of a heritage that S’reth, with her sharp instincts, could quickly divine. The “man” was in fact a tiefling, a mixed-race brood with otherworldly origins. S’reth felt a renewed flush of anticipation. This one, undoubtedly, was the leader, the one drawn by her summoning. Electing for a bold approach, she let her shrouding cloak of magic fade and stepped forward into the light.
“You have come at my call, to serve my need! Serve well, and you will be rewarded, denizens of the outer planes! Defy me, and you will suffer great torments!”
The strangers turned to her as one as she appeared before them and delivered her speech. The light revealed the details of her form, the sleek lines of her lower body, shaped in the design of a powerful lion, and her upper body, that of a muscled human female. Combined, the form of a lamia.
“Oh, I don’t like the looks of this,” the tiefling said.
Book IV
Prologue
S’reth shivered as the cold wind swirled around her as she stared out over the vista laid out before her. She folded her arms around her torso as dark thoughts twisted through her mind. It wasn’t that she was unused to the cold; it was cold at Hlaungadath as well, a bitter cold that could chill the bones and freeze the very blood within your veins. But there, at least, there was shelter, and warm fires, and companionship.
S’reth snorted, and turned away from the ledge. Such musings would not further her purpose now, she thought, as she noticed one of her servants approaching.
The ogre loomed over her, the mass of its body many times her own, its muscled form wrapped in several layers of thick furs that added to its bestial appearance. It bore a huge maul that was more than half-again the length of an adult human, but its demeanor as it approached S’reth was deferential, and its broken speech as it addressed her was respectful.
“Mistress,” it told her, “You wished be told, when the diggin’ was done.”
“You’ve uncovered the entrance to the chamber, then?” she asked.
“Yes’m,” the ogre rumbled.
Just for fun, S’reth motioned as if to touch the ogre’s arm, and was rewarded as it drew hastily back, alarm flashing in its eyes. Good, she thought. The ogres still feared her, at least.
The thought brought an unsatisfactory memory, however, and her expression darkened. The ogre withdrew another stride, thinking perhaps that her anger was directed at it. Annoyed now with the creature, S’reth motioned to it in dismissal. “Rejoin the others at the ruin. I will join you there shortly.”
As the ogre retreated, S’reth glanced back out over the vista once more. Ignoring the persistent wind, she cast her gaze out to the east, over the vast landscape that stretched before her. Hlaungadath was invisible at this distance, of course, but she imagined that she could feel its presence, far away yet close in her thoughts.
You mocked me, T’roth, just like all of them, she thought, her bitterness leaving a tangible taste in her throat. You drove me out, and expected that would be the end of me. Soon, though, I’ll be back, and I’ll make you pay.
The thought warmed her some as she turned and headed off to rejoin her servants.
* * * * *
Once the ogres had worked aside the heavy stone block that warded the entrance to the underground chamber, S’reth entered the dark space beyond. The air was stale, and cold, and filled with an ancient aura of lingering power that S’reth could feel on her bare skin like a cloying mist. She shivered again, and it was not from the cold.
“Remain here, and wait for my call,” she commanded the ogres, who were only too happy to comply. She’d learned that the ogres of these mountains had tales that spoke of places such as this, legends that bore lessons of secrets best left undiscovered. The four that remained in her service were bound to her, now, but she’d had to use frequent pressure to overcome their aversion to coming here.
Beyond the slab lay a corridor that sloped slightly downward into darkness ahead. The stone blocks that made up the walls were weathered with age, and the faint plumes of dust raised by her passage indicated that she was the first to enter here in a long, long time. The first, hopefully, to plume the secrets left here from a bygone age.
S’reth felt a tingle of excitement pass through her as she saw that the corridor opened onto a chamber up ahead. The light from the open slab that led up to the ruin had faded almost into nothing, so she paused to call up a pale glow from her hand that pushed back the shadows enough for her to see.
The chamber was fashioned into the shape of a octagon, with thick stone buttresses at each corner that ran together into a supporting ring of heavy stone in the center of the ceiling twenty feet above. It was immediately clear that this place had not fully weathered whatever calamities had struck down the ruin above; great cracks rent the stone walls in places, and in a few places loose rubble and great clods of earth had fallen into the room from more significant breaches. Several metal items shone in the light of her spell, including a pair of ancient braziers along the walls that despite the tarnish of many years glinted with the unmistakable shine of pure silver.
S’reth hardly noticed such trifles, however, as her attention was drawn immediately to the great circle in the center of the room.
Intact! she thought, passing through the arch that marked the transition from the corridor to the chamber proper. She felt another tingle as she passed through that threshold, but this one was tangible, not a byproduct of her own anticipation. A faint magical aura that did not originate from her sent a quiver through her, a lingering power that was far beyond her own limited magical skills. Then, as if in response, flames erupted in the twin braziers, shedding a bright radiance throughout the chamber.
The magic, it’s still potent, after all this time… S’reth thought. She felt the delicious tremor of fear in the pit of her belly, and her instincts told her to leave this place and its secrets behind, but her ambition—and her injured pride—drove her inexorably forward.
The light of the flames more fully revealed what she had seen earlier, the large stone ring that dominated the center of the chamber floor. A single slab of unbroken stone formed a circle a full ten paces across, its ruddy coloration a stark contrast to the plain gray granite that formed the rest of the chamber and the ruin outside. Although S’reth could not know this, the red stone was not native to these mountains, nor any place close to where she now stood.
The great circular stone was surrounded by a double ring traced in what appeared to be silver inlay, the thin lines unmarred by the tarnish or decay that marked everything else about this place. Traced within those parallel tracks were the spidery lines of runes, symbols in a language dead for centuries, lost to those who now walked upon the surface of Faerûn.
Lost to most, that is.
S’reth approached and bent low to examine the runes. She recognized the language, an arcane variation on the old tongue of Netheril, a language of power and secrets that had ultimately proved better forgotten. Her mother had taught her that ancient speech in secret, taught her to decipher the runes of power left behind on those faded remnants of that sundered human empire. That knowledge, scorned by the rest of her kind, had enabled her to uncover the location of this place, and the existence of the treasure that now lay before her, the power that was now within her grasp.
It had been a long search. For years she had placed her hopes on the more substantial ruin to the south, the ancient dwarf city that lay at the edges of her people’s realm. But the coming of the shadow-men to that forsaken place had ruined those plans, and she was not foolish enough to defy T’roth’s mandate that they avoid those dangerous newcomers.
Now, however, all her lonely searching, the risks and challenges she’d faced, were on the brink of fulfillment in the sweet coin of power. She rose and drew back from the circle, allowing herself to calm down from the tumultuous heights to which her conflicting emotions had lifted her.
There was no hurry, now.
Finally, she settled herself comfortably on the cold stone floor, and reached for the satchel that rode at her side. From within, she drew out a weathered stone tablet, so thin as to almost be like parchment, and carefully laid it out before her where the full light of the flames could brighten its surface.
Then, she began to read, uttering the ancient phrases in the language of a dead people.
* * * * *
S’reth stirred, feeling pain in her limbs as she became aware of her surroundings. She was lying on the floor, having drifted off to sleep once again.
She rose, trying to ignore the protests of her muscles as a result of resting on the uncomfortable stone. She was unaware of how much time had passed since she’d entered the underground level of the ruin. Had it been hours, even days? She felt hungry, but she also felt a vague sense of disconnect, as if the passage of time had started to move around her, merging her with the sense of timelessness that was present here in the vault.
She could still feel the tendrils of power within the room, tendrils that she’d helped to awaken with her invocations. She’d cast numerous spells from the scrolls she’d brought, and could feel the presence of the magic in the room, filling the very air, each forming a link with the stone ring in the center. Nothing she had done, however, had created a tangible result, for all her efforts.
She was reluctant to leave, but knew that the needs of her body would ultimately catch up to her. And the ogres, if they had remained above, would need to be tended to if their loyalty, ever tenuous, was to remain intact. With one more lingering look at the stone circle, she turned toward the exit corridor.
A noise drew her attention back toward the center of the chamber. It was like a faint buzzing, only audible on the edges of her perceptions, but as she watched in amazement it built rapidly into an almost painful crescendo. As the sound grew louder she could see something, too, a tiny pinprick of light hovering a few feet above the center of the circle. The light, too, grew rapidly, forming a roughly spherical haze that became so bright that she had to turn away for a moment. As she did, the sound culminated in a flash and an acrid smell of smoke filled her nostrils. The light had faded, and when she turned back toward the summoning circle she was no longer alone.
Her instincts screamed caution, and this time S’reth listened. She drew back into the shadows around the archway, and in addition called upon the power of her ring of shadows. That item, another bequest from her mother, had the power to cloak the wearer in a shroud of darkness, making one almost invisible when the lighting was sufficiently poor. Thus protected, she scanned the interior of the room as the haze began to thin.
There was a group of beings within the circle. For a moment S’reth’s heart caught in her chest—her intent hadn’t been to summon a group, just a minor fiend or two that she could more easily dominate and control. She relaxed, some, however, as she realized that the things she’d summoned weren’t very large, roughly the size of a man, and in fact one of them was downright small.
“What happened? Where are we?” one of them said. S’reth’s brow furrowed—the speaker used the common speech of Faerûn! Curious…
Her confusion deepened as the haze lifted enough for her to discern the summoned creatures more clearly. By the looks of them, they were a group of humans and demihumans—the short creature looked like a rock gnome, and a thick-bodied dwarf bearing an axe beside him, and two human females and one male behind them. And then, closest to her…
“Um, guys? I don’t think we’re alone here…”
The speaker was a tall figure, clad in a travel-ravaged tunic under which shone the shimmering metal links of chainmail fashioned of… mithral! Added to that revelation was the fact that this stranger, although he had the look of a human, bore faint traces of a heritage that S’reth, with her sharp instincts, could quickly divine. The “man” was in fact a tiefling, a mixed-race brood with otherworldly origins. S’reth felt a renewed flush of anticipation. This one, undoubtedly, was the leader, the one drawn by her summoning. Electing for a bold approach, she let her shrouding cloak of magic fade and stepped forward into the light.
“You have come at my call, to serve my need! Serve well, and you will be rewarded, denizens of the outer planes! Defy me, and you will suffer great torments!”
The strangers turned to her as one as she appeared before them and delivered her speech. The light revealed the details of her form, the sleek lines of her lower body, shaped in the design of a powerful lion, and her upper body, that of a muscled human female. Combined, the form of a lamia.
“Oh, I don’t like the looks of this,” the tiefling said.
