Zandyrium
Episode 03
Mercutio sipped from a decanter, “May I?” The robed man motioned toward a chair at the table.
“Please do,” Ginny responded.
Wassabe planted himself next to the robed stranger and spoke up, “You are from the desert aren’t ye’? Saracen-blooded if I hit my guess.” The mariner tapped his nose.
Mercutio nodded politely to Wassabe. Justinius encouraged him to contribute to the debate, but was interrupted by Heinrich, “Why is this his business? This smells of a set-up plot for a roguish band secreted in the woods or some such subterfuge…”
Mercutio smiled at the cleric’s accusations, “Hear me out noble cleric and then decide your course for yourself.” Mercutio described how he had met a group of adventurers a few months earlier that had found an ancient complex below the Darkfall Hills in Fool’s Pass. The group arrived in Zandyrium flush with success and quite a bit of gold for their efforts. They had no one with arcane talents and had asked him to join their ranks. Mercutio agreed, but required a couple of more weeks to finish his studies.
“Studies?” Mōrguhn had perked up at this comment. “You are a wizard then?”
“Of sorts,” Mercutio replied.
“A hedge wizard I would wager – a sorcerer,” Wassabe offered.
“Thou hast most kindly hit it,” Mercutio replied. “My new comrades wanted to scout the complex further before I finished my studies. They promised to return and get me in a fortnight. They never came back.”
“Would you care to accompany us?” Justinius inquired.
“Ironically, I am again in the midst of some studies I cannot leave. Perhaps if you could wait a few weeks…” Mercutio replied.
“I do not have a few weeks worth of gold or patience,” Mōrguhn said. “We should go ahead to the pass and see what we find.”
Mercutio gave a heavy sigh. “Perhaps if you return then. Talk about déjà vu.”
“We go in the morning,” Thoren agreed.
“We could figure out what is going on with the disappearance of the paupers in the city for my temple and by the time we finish Mercutio would be set to join us,” Justinius offered.
“What’s the temple paying?” Mōrguhn asked.
“It would be gratis,” Justinius admitted.
“That settles that,” Wassabe stated.
*****
The following morning the group gathered their provisions and set out. The first few miles were pleasant enough; they passed a number of farmsteads that flourished under the protection of the city. Zandyrium made some efforts to maintain the old imperial road out this far and the adventurers passed a few peddlers and other travelers. The imperial road forked at the Ramblin’ Tavern; to the south was the caravan trail, and to the west, the road through Preygale Forest and on to Fool’s Pass through the Darkfall Hills. The group turned west.
The road west quickly changed character as the city’s maintenance obviously ended at the fork at the Ramblin’ Tavern. The path ran next to the river and at times if the group did not have the riverbank to follow the road would have been difficult to follow.
A couple of miles up the road the sounds of axe on lumber could be heard. The forest opened up and a number of log piles were set up near the riverbank. Just as a group of simple huts came into view a loud voice rang out, “On the East!” Men emerged from the surrounding forest with axes and saws and one was leading a mule with a log chained behind. The lumberjacks eyed the adventurers on their approach up the road.
“Ho there friends,” Thoren yelled out.
A group of the axemen began walking towards the adventurers with their heavy wood axes slung over their shoulders. “Where ye’ be going?” one of them asked.
“We travel to the pass through the Darkfall Hills,” Heinrich stated.
“Gnoll country,” one of the lumberjacks stated. A hard tobacco laden spit into the ground punctuated his statement. Wassabe pulled a pouch from his cloak and offered the woodsman some fresh tobacco. The man gave a dark toothed smile in response and the adventurers were invited into camp for an afternoon tea break.
As the tea began to brew on the fire a few more men emerged from the forest and gathered around introducing themselves to the adventurers. “Afternoon Mr. Gramge,” one of the men called out to an approaching man leading a pair of mules to the camp.
“Hello,” Mr. Gramge replied. “Travelers?” he asked.
“Aye, they are heading for the pass,” the tobacco chewer replied.
“The pass is well named,” Mr. Gramge commented looking the group over. His eyes came to rest on Ginny, “Whose slave?” he asked.
Ginny looked to Wassabe, not quite sure who the man was referring to. Wassabe spoke up quickly, “I will take 200 crowns for her and not a copper less.”
“I am not a slave!” Ginny protested loudly as she realized she was the person in question.
Wassabe smiled widely, “Not yet, but there is an offer on the table.”
Ginny slapped Wassabe and the men gathered around the tea fire howled with laughter. Even Mr. Gramge smiled, “No offense m’Lady. Usually a woman traveling with a group of men in these wilds is a slave or a whore.”
“I know I was hoping for the latter,” Wassabe spoke up with a smile.
Ginny reached over and slapped the mariner again. Howls of laughter again came from the group. “I am no whore!” a flustered Ginny protested.
“No, no of course you aren’t my dear,” Heinrich reassured her. He turned to Mr. Gramge and said, “One of your men called this area Gnoll country. What do you know of the surrounding fauna?”
“I don’t know much about fauna, but there is a lot of different critters running around these woods,” Mr. Gramge responded.
“Orcs and Gnolls,” one of the Lumberjacks offered.
“Ogres,” another stated.
“Yes, and more,” Mr. Gramge concluded. “This forest gets pretty wild to the west and north of here. The Darkfalls are even worse.”
“What do you know of Fool’s Pass?” Justinius asked.
“Like I said earlier – it’s well named. A dangerous place to be sure. I have never been there and plan to keep it that way. I doubt that you will encounter much civilized traffic west or north of this spot,” Mr. Gramge responded.
Mr. Gramge rose to his feet and addressed the adventurers, “You are welcome to stay the night here, but we must finish the day’s work.” The lumberjacks rose on his cue.
“We must push on, but thank you for your offer,” Justinius replied. Wassabe shook hands with several of the lumberjacks and goodbyes and well wishes were exchanged. The adventurers slung their packs and headed back for the trail.
Mōrguhn moved up and walked next to Wassabe. He whispered to the former mariner, “If ye’ call her a whore again, I’ll gut ye’.”
Wassabe looked down on the dwarf’s grim countenance with genuine surprise and said, “No need for concern Mōrguhn, I like her well enough. It was a jest and she at least is smart enough to realize such. You, however, have proved dumb twice: thinking I leveled a genuine insult at her and threatening someone who could carve you like a fresh cooked foul.”
Mōrguhn’s penetrating gaze did not change and he said in an almost whispered voice, “Next time you say it, grab yer’ steel, ‘cause I’ll be coming.” The dwarf allowed the mariner to move ahead.
Wassabe smiled as he walked along. He knew the dwarf was deadly serious.
Most noble – I like him, he thought. He chuckled softly as he knew his admiration was not mutual on Mōrguhn’s part.
****
Later in the afternoon the group came across a horse drinking from the river. The horse was wearing a saddle and had a full set of tack. A careful inspection revealed the mark of the Emperor of Zandyrium. The rider was nowhere to be found.
“I will lead him,” Thoren offered and took the horse by the reigns.
As the party discussed the mystery of the riderless horse, the sun began to dip low. All agreed to pitch camp near the river and watches were divided amongst them.
During the third watch, a few hours before the dawn, Githraldul saw a large shape move across the moonlit road and go down to the river. Githraldul alerted his partner on watch, Heinrich, and they began to gently waking the other members of the party up. Githraldul snuck down to the river to take a closer look. There he saw what appeared to be a great bear, but as it turned towards the moon it became obvious it was something more.
The owlbear seemed to sniff at the gentle night breeze. Githraldul hunched further down to avoid detection. The Owlbear, apparently satisfied nothing was amiss, resumed drinking from the river. In short order, the beast had its fill and eventually lumbered back into the forest. Githraldul made his way back to camp.
Githraldul reported his sighting to the group and the remainder of the early morning was spent discussing the group’s course of action. Githraldul wanted to track the beast down and kill it. Heinrich argued such a hunt would be pointless and extremely dangerous. The group continued the conversation while breaking camp and finally Heinrich acquiesced to the hunt.
***
As dawn fully broke into morning light Githraldul quickly found the owlbear’s trail. Like a possessed hound the ranger began tracking the beast. Often the Elf would get too far ahead of his companions and they would call for him to slow down. Githraldul hesitated in the afternoon and motioned for his compatriots to be silent. The group assumed the ranger has found the owlbear, but he had discovered something far stranger.
Ahead, in a clearing was an ornate fountain, but was immediately clear that there was something not quite right about the fountain. Cautiously, the group approached the fountain more closely. The outward appearance of the fountain gave all signs of being benign, but the cloud of flies and bloodstained grass around the white structure indicated otherwise. A body was floating face down in the pool of water.
Justinius read final rites to Gravitas Morte over the stinking corpse and with the aid of a pair of dead tree branches dragged the body out of the water. It was an Elven Maiden. Justinius determined she had been dead about four days and had a large twisted spear wound in her abdomen.
Heinrich inspected the fountain and determined it was dedicated to Rhylya, goddess of animals, growth, motherhood, and nurturing. Something about the carvings and prayers on the fountain seemed sinister to the cleric, but he just could not put his finger upon it. He announced to the group, “I do not like this. There is something very tainted here.”
“One thing is clear,” Githraldul stated, “the Owlbear did not like it either. It skirted around this clearing.”
“Look here Githraldul,” Ginny called out to him. “Perhaps this is where our horse came from?” as Githraldul moved to her position, she pointed to some hoof prints.
“Not likely,” the elf responded, “these prints were made by an unshod hoof. Does look like a horse though, at least an ungulate of some sort.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Wassabe suggested. “This place gives me the creeps.”
The group left the clearing only after Justinius had buried the maiden.
**
Trailing the owlbear Githraldul again halted near a huge walnut tree. The ranger pointed high into the foliage at a large matted nest poised in a Y between two massive branches. “There’s its lair.”
“I say we burn the rigging and flush him out,” Wassabe suggested.
“Rigging?” Ginny asked.
“He means the tree I think,” Githraldul answered.
“Aye, smoke the varmit out,” Wassabe confirmed.
“What if there is something valuable and flammable in its nest?” Ginny asked.
“Fair enough, I’ll climb this other tree to have a look,” Wassabe suggested.
“I will,” Githraldul volunteered and quickly scaled the tree with his bow slung across his back. Looking down into the nest, Githraldul could see the huge creature resting. He started to look down at the other adventurers when a noise below startled him.
Thoren had tied the horse up to a nearby branch and when the fighter turned to leave the horse, it whinnied. Githraldul looked frantically back at the nest. The owlbear was stirring, but it was not clear whether the beast was awoken by the horse’s noise or not. The ranger decided to take no chances. He took off his bow and notched an arrow. Githraldul let the arrow go and it struck home.
The owlbear roared in pain and stood in its nest. The size of the thing nearly shocked Githraldul. With uncanny deftness, the owlbear swung over the side of the nest and began climbing down.
“Incoming!” Githraldul shouted as he loosed another arrow that narrowly missed the owlbear.
As the owlbear reached the base of the tree Mōrguhn and Thoren charged it.
Thoren hit the beast with a great blow with his two-handed weapon, but the owlbear appeared unaffected. Mōrguhn struck his weapon deeply into the beast’s leg, nearly knocking it down. The owlbear howled turned to the dwarf, hit him with both claws and pulled him into his gaping beak. Tearing flesh from the dwarf’s neck it discarded Mōrguhn like yesterday’s rubbish. The rest of the adventurers shot missiles at the owlbear, but it fought on.
Heinrich sprinted up to the tree’s base to try and help Mōrguhn. Meanwhile, the owlbear unleashed a terrible attack on Thoren, shredding the fighter’s chest. Thoren stumbled backwards and fell to the ground unconscious. The sick realization that he was facing the beast alone hit Heinrich. The cleric pulled out his heavy mace and charged.
Heinrich’s heavy mace hit home, but the owlbear withstood the attack. Missiles continued to fly at the owlbear from the other adventurers, but not enough hit home to save the cleric from the beast’s rage. The owlbear set upon Heinrich like a famished wolf and one great swipe from its claw sent the cleric spinning to the ground bleeding and unconscious.
The owlbear looked up as a crossbow bolt hit it in the abdomen. The shooter, Justinius, stood before it. The owlbear lowered its head and charged the cleric of Gravitas Morte with its wings flapping. Justinius dropped his crossbow and pulled out a hand weapon.
Gravitas Morte, if now is my time make it glorious! Justinius prayed. The cleric braced himself for the owlbear’s attack.
“Run, damn ye’, run!” Wassabe called out.
To be continued…
