Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)

[talien]

After dispelling the magic that blinded him, Father Peg-Leg took a look at the dead bodies. He shook his head.

“This be terrible and strange,” he said. “Ye have convinced me, with yer blood and steel and t' flesh ye have hewn before me that you be true. Somethin' wicked and wild be risin' in this world.” He lifted one of the cultists’ hands and pointed to the design on the palm. It was a tentacled head surrounded by five stars. “If I didn’t see this mark with me own eaye, never would I credit all them old jack tar stories. Now I wonder…now I wonder just what we be up against!"

“Leviathan,” said Dril, glaring at Kham. “Told you.”

“There be stories…yar, stories that run aft t' t' foundin' o' this island…about a gang that bore this mark…t' wickedest cutthroats every t' sail t' oceans,” Peg-Leg rambled on, oblivious to the discussion around him. “T' Full-Fathom Five, they called themselves. Five wicked buccaneers who worshipped a devil so foul that Cadic had t' swab him from our memory—Leviathan, who rode upon a beast t' size o' this island….a kraken he called his own son. Together, they were t' wickedest scourge t' ever sail t' oceans. They would’ve overrun t' shippin' lanes, t' stories say, if Cadic hadn’t stopped their villainy. Now that I see this mark…now that I see what they was plannin' t' do…I can only wonder.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “So, about that book…”

Peg-Legs scowled and looked keenly at Kham. “Cadic has sent ye t' me on this blackest o' black days. Ye have done good for me. He must intend ye t' do more. T' knowledge ye seek resides with one man—Carthy. He be protected by Cadic. His line has lived in Freeport for these many years under a false name t' keep him hidden from t' world. I’ll tell ye where he lives. If he comes t' harm by yer hand, may Cadic strike ye went t' Davy Jones' locker and take me for chum in his heavenly oceans. But I truly believe ye be workin’ for me lord.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Kham. “If I had a piece of eight for every time someone threatened to kill us, I’d be rich.”

“And then spend it all on booze and ghoul juice,” muttered Beldin.

“What?” asked Kham. Beldin didn’t respond.

The priest gave Sebastian an address in the Merchant District, the ritzy section of town. “Carthy lives thar under t' name Caleb Solomon.”

Sebastian put his gloved hands together and bowed. “Thank you, Father Peg-Leg, for your help.”

Dril nudged one of the corpses. “This raid won’t make Scarbelly look good.”

“How so?” asked Vlad.

“With the impostors attacking the Temple of Cadic, it looks like Scarbelly caused a riot and then they ambushed Father Peg-Leg. Maybe we should alert the authorities.”

Kham stepped over the lead cultist’s body. “I don’t see any impostors. Just a bunch of dead orcs.” Then he walked out of the temple.

“One more thin',” said Peg-Leg. “This man ye seek be protected by Cadic, but these blackguards be protected by someone too."

[talien]

After a bit of searching, they found Carthy’s house. It was a two-story affair at the end of a cul-de-sac, front by gates and a private garden.

Sebastian stopped in mid-stride. “You feel that?”

Kham rubbed his forehead. “The throbbing headache? Why yes, I feel that all the time.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Not that. I can feel…energy, surrounding that home. It’s like a hand gently but insistently resisting our approach.”

“Perhaps that’s what Peg-Leg meant by Carthy being protected by Cadic,” said Dril.

“Yeah, well it doesn’t seem to be all that effective in stopping us.” Kham walked right up to one of the guards. “We’re here to see Carthy.”

“No Carthy here,” said the guard coolly.

“It’s about the Cycle of R’lyeh,” added Sebastian. “Father Peg-Leg sent us to ask him about a sextant.”

The guard’s eyes widened. He spun on one heel and disappeared into the house.

A few minutes later, the guard returned. “Caleb will see you now.”

They were led through a high, clutter hall towards a door. Souvenirs of a life tied to the sea was everywhere: a captain’s wheel hung from the wall where other people might have a mirror, a fighting-net covered another wall section, and a harpoon and shark jaw sat above the doorway. The whole place smelled of musty salt air.

Inside, the comfortable, well-appointed sitting room contained numerous plush leather chairs and couches. Bookcases ran along the walls in the room and a massive lacquered oak desk sat on one side. The window behind the desk looked out into the backyard garden.

“Caleb will be right with you,” said the guard. He closed the door behind him.

Kham flounced onto the couch and took out his wineskin.

Sebastian walked over to the bookshelves.

Kham shook his head. “Not gonna be that easy.”

The dark-kin shrugged. “It’s mostly nautical themes, but it seems Carthy has an interest in everything from philosophy to modern novels.”

Dril nodded at a picture that hung on the far side of the room, on the wall opposite Carthy’s desk. “Take a look.”

The painting depicted a nautical scene; some kind of ceremony on the deck of a ship at nighttime. The ship’s crew stood around a lighted circle. They looked suspiciously at the two illuminated figures. One of them was obviously a ship’s captain; he looked very upright and warlike in admiral’s uniform. The other wore dark robes and a stern expression on his face, as he handed something to the ship’s captain.

Sebastian squinted. “The banner reads: Victorie Affured.”

“There’s another one over here,” said Vlad. He pointed a painting that hung on the wall adjacent to Carthy’s desk

The painting depicted a striking woman in a full-on pirate outfit; she was tall, confident, and had dark features. She looked stiff and unnatural in the pose, but her face still conveyed arrogance and fire.

The door opened and a tall man entered, wearing a navy-blue dressing gown with a crest over his heart and a cravat around his neck. His thing hair had gone gray, but his face and hands were wrinkled and permanently browned from the salt air. He moved with a cane. And yet, there was a sense of strange vitality coming from him, as if he were a lot stronger than he looked.

Carthy sat down at his desk. “So what’s all this about R’lyeh?”

Sebastian leaned forward. “I’ll come straight to the point. The Temple of Cadic was attacked by the Cult of Leviathan. We were looking for the Cycle of R’lyeh, but Father Peg-Leg directed us to you.”

A pall came over the old man’s face.

“Many years ago my…family,” he spoke in a halting voice, choosing his word very carefully, “swore an oath to Cadic and the Lords of Freeport. We did the city a great service, but bound ourselves to silence about I in return for the protection of the Sea Lord and the god he served. I can tell you that the men you fought in the temple serve the…powers against which my family performed this…services—this sacrifice.”

Carthy swiveled his chair so that it faced the painting of the pirate woman. Then he lowered his face into his hands.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Kham took a swig from his wineskin and cleared his throat.

“Looks like you’ve got quite a lass up there,” he said nonchalantly. Sebastian shot him a glance but Kham put one hand up.

Glad for the excuse to talk about something else, Carthy wiped the back of his eyes with one sleeve. “Ah yes. That’s Black Jenny Ramsey.”

“She looks like a handful,” said Kham with a grin.

“She was,” Carthy managed a weak smile back at him. “I was a rival for her affections. But I lost her to a greater love because…well, I’d rather not talk about it.”

Kham nodded. “I understand.”

“About this R’lyeh…” added Sebastian.

“R’lyeh had something to do with my family’s great sacrifice at the sea battle,” said Carthy. “Leviathan was involved. It is not of this world.”

“We figured,” said Dril. “What about the sextant? The figure in the picture bears a striking resemblance to you.”

“The sextant,” said Carthy. “Aye, the sextant. Yes, that’s my ancestor handing over the sextant; it did indeed prove crucial to our victory. As far as I know, Hell’s Triangle and R’lyeh are just sailor’s stories.”

“My father, Corinalous val’Abebi, thinks that R’lyeh has something to do with a portal—“

Carthy’s eyes widened. “If R’lyeh returns, it means the Full-Fathom Five have somehow regrouped outside of Arcanis. They were some of the fiercest pirates that ever sailed. If the shadow of Leviathan has fallen over Freeport…why, anyone who traveled there would be in grave peril!”

“Comes with the territory,” grunted Beldin.

“Right, we’ve got all that.” Dril was obviously losing his patience. “Do you have the sextant?”

Carthy shook his head. “As far as I know, it remains in the hands of the Sea Lord, stored in the headquarters of the Captains’ Council. My family gave it to the Sea Lord almost 150 years ago.” There was a sudden change in the man’s expression that became unwelcome. “I think our business is done here gentlemen. Please leave.”

[talien]

Touldrix Neraldin rolled over to Kham’s side of the bed to face him. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty would have been typical of Kham’s harem of willing lasses if it weren’t for the fact that she had pointed ears and slightly webbed hands. She was undir, thus her allegiance to the Undir Benevolent Association.

“Now don’t take this the wrong way,” she said in a perky voice, “but shouldn’t you be with your father?”

Kham swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed a bottle of wine. He poured himself a glass. “And since when did you become my mother?”

Touldrix suppressed a giggle. “After what we just did, I should hope we’re not related.” Her expression turned somber. “But seriously, you haven’t talked to your father in years. Shouldn’t you spend more time with him?”

Kham emptied the glass. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about orcs? Don’t forget what I told you to pass on to Finn.”

Touldrix wrapped the sheet around her and sat up. “That they’re trying to take over Freeport? I think he knows that already.”

“The evidence, woman!” Kham poured himself another glass. “The orcs just attacked a Temple of Cadic. They’re demonstrating in the streets. What more excuse could the Sea Lord’s Guard possibly need—“

“You act like Finn runs the Sea Lord’s Guard,” Touldrix said quietly.

“Well, doesn’t he?”

“It’s not that simple. Besides, my boss has to consider every possibility. Getting Scarbelly arrested is just one of them. Until Scarbelly comes up with this proof he keeps talking about, I’d say he’s not much of a threat. A rabble-rouser, but not much of a threat.”

“I didn’t think Finn paid you to think.” Kham shrugged on his pants. “I’ve got to go meet somebody.” He walked over to Touldrix and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll see you later.” Then he left.

Touldrix’s eyes filled with tears. “Finn pays me to do a lot of things,” she said quietly to herself. Then she took a sip from half-empty bottle of wine Kham left behind.

A half-second later she spat out its contents. “What the hell does he mix this stuff with?”

[talien]

They regrouped at the Last Resort, recovering from its injuries from the month before like a grizzled old adventurer. Some of the tables and chairs were unfinished, but there was room enough to sit and eat. Bobbin Brandydale’s business would recover so long as there was a place for the lonely and the cheerful to buy a drink.

Dril pounded the table in frustration. “Nobody knows anything about the damned sextant!”

Behind them, a courier called out for Bobbin with a gift-wrapped package in his hands.

“Not even Reed,” said Sebastian, thinking of his friend at the Hall of Records. Reed had been considerably unhappy to see the val and dark-kin together again. “And that’s saying something.”

A barmaid walked over to receive the package. Bobbin was busy.

“Still, he did prove of some use,” added Beldin. “Someone erased all records of R’lyeh and the sextant from official records.”

The courier thanked the barmaid and left.

“But it’s missing,” said Beldin. He took a long slurp from his mug. “Entered by Sea Lord Cromey, checked out by nobody, apparently.”

The barmaid undid the bow, only to discover a jeweled jar inside with five gems in its lid.

“I asked Baldric to see if he could use his influence with the Captains’ Council to learn more,” said Kham. “He said he would meet us here.”

Dril blinked. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Vlad.

Dril held up one finger for silence. They all listened.

Vlad slowly turned to trace the sound. “It sounds like—”

“Ticking!” shouted Beldin. “DOWN!”

The ensuing explosion drowned out his command.

[talien]

The Last Resort’s interior was a disaster area. The location where the bomb exploded was no more than a smoking black crater.

Vlad stood with Grungronazharr before him. The scorch marks from the blast stopped at his feet, leaving an unharmed “V” behind the big Milandisian.

Heavy smoke hung, inside making vision difficult and breathing hazardous. Wood debris that used to be tables and chairs lay scattered along the east wall along with dozens corpses. There were low moans coming from everywhere.

“Dril’s hurt!” shouted Sebastian. He dragged the Altherian out from beneath a pile of rubble. “Help me!”

Vlad’s ears were still ringing from the explosion. He shook it off and started helping pull Dril out of what was left of the Last Resort.

Over a dozen guardsmen and two sergeants arrive and begin helping people out.

Baldric arrived in full pirate gear. He arrived with Kham at his side.

“It be good t' see ye all again, although I wish it were under different circumstances," he said grimly. “I was walkin' with Kham t' The Last Resort when I saw t' explosion a block away."

One of the sergeants got Baldric’s attention. The two move off to the side so the sergeant could whisper some words to the Captain. The sergeant handed him a blackened, ivory-toned clay jar, obviously broken in the explosion.

Baldric turned back to Sebastian. “They just discovered this jar in t' rubble. Take a look at this.” He held up the bottom of the jar, where a charred marking is visible.

“That’s a marking of the school of evocation,” said Sebastian

“That’s Xangy’s symbol.” Kham dusted off his coat. “He’s a local sculptor. Makes clay pots that are all the rage in the Merchant District.”

“I fear that this explosion might be t' first o' many attacks on t' city. I will offer you a thousand gold doubloons t' see t' investigation t' its conclusion.”

Baldric leaned close to Kham. He handed over the jar fragment, and whispered, “Please look into this with discretion in mind. Freeport has been through a lot in t' past few months and t' last thin' t' citizens need be another conspiracy.”

“We’re all about discretion,” said Kham with a smirk.

[talien]

Dril joined them at Xangy’s pottery shop, healed by Father Peg-Leg. The shop was a small stone building located at the northern edge of the Eastern District where it met Drac’s End.

Light spilled out of the one-story building’s windows from a lantern hanging inside. Once they reached the door, a “Closed” sign was clearly visible hanging from the open door’s frame.

“Well, looks like their closed,” said Kham with a smirk. “I guess we should just go home.”

There was a loud grunt just before a piece of pottery flies from the side and shattered inside the doorway, its fragments tumbling in all directions.

“That’s all the excuse I need.” Vlad barreled into the shop, sword drawn.

The shop’s interior had obviously seen better days. Toppled pottery, some broken, some not, lay haphazardly on the shelves that stand against all four walls. A long table dominated the center of the room where lumps of clay, sculpting tools, and a basin of water resided. Beside the table were a stool and a stained pottery wheel. The person who threw the ceramic object was seated on the stool, his back to the entrance, as he cleaned out broken shards from beneath a shelf.

Before Vlad could get his attention, the young man swivels to face him. He had short black hair and a faint goatee.

With a sneer he said, “Since you obviously can’t read, let me speak plainly— we’re closed.” The youth repeated the last two words in Elorii and Solani for emphasis before dumping his collected fragments into a wooden trough.

Kham sniffed. “That’s nice. You’re Rufus’ boy, right? I think you can stay open for a couple more minutes.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time,” said the young man. “We’re closed.”

Sebastian put his palms together and pointed his fingertips in the shopkeeper’s direction. “We are here on Council business.” He pulled a broken piece of pottery out of the voluminous folds of his cloak. “It this yours?”

“For the last time,” said the young man, voice rising, “we are—“

Kham kicked over one of the large pots. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

The young man’s eyes went wide. “I said…we’re…”

Kham took out a pistol and aimed it at his head. “A little louder. I keep hearing that you’re closed, but that can’t be right, can it?”

Sebastian put one finger on Kham’s arm. “Kham. Please.”

The shopkeeper swallowed hard. Kham shrugged and put away his pistol.

Sebastian gave him a pained, look-what-I-have-to-put-up-with smile. “My name’s Sebastian. What’s yours?”

“Leukien. Leukien Xangy.”

“Nice to meet you Leukien,” said Sebastian. “We were recently the victims of a bombing. Some people were killed, some were very hurt. So you’ll have to excuse Kham if he’s upset. Many peoples’ lives are at stake. Do you understand?”

Leukien nodded, all traces of his irritable nature replaced with fear.

“Good.” Sebastian displayed the “X” markings on the fragment. “Do you know what this sign means?”

Leukien nodded again. “Yeah, it’s one of my dad’s pieces. Just look at any of his work and somewhere on the bottom are those four X’s. He said they represent the four generations of Xangy potters that came before him.”

“Where’s your dad?” asked Kham.

“He was killed a few weeks ago.” Leukien’s eyebrows knitted together. “He died from a lightning blast. Took him full in the chest, though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Never thought I’d be glad my mom’s blind; the body wasn’t pretty.”

Kham’s posture sagged. He wasn’t expecting that. “Sorry to hear that,” he said quietly. Then he wandered off to examine some of the unbroken pottery.

“What happened here?” asked Beldin.

“There was a break-in last night. Found the place in shambles this morning. Decided to walk off some of my anger before coming in to clean up tonight. Funny thing is, I can’t find that anything’s missing; just a lot of items shoved around. Didn’t even check the back room yet. It was probably those thrice-damned orcs.”

Sebastian and Dril exchanged glances. “What orcs?”

“Four of the stinky things were in here yesterday looking for my dad. When I told them he died, I thought they’d leave. Nope. They started to snoop around and even tried to go into the back room there.” Leukien gestured behind him. “When I told them to take a walk, one of ‘em drew some kinda fancy grooved dagger and pointed it at me. One of his buddies said I “wasn’t worth it” and then they all left.”

“Do you have any idea who your father might have crafted this jar for?” asked Sebastian.

“Nope. He made several jars of that style—some with tops, some without.” Leukien thought for a moment. “But it is possible he recorded the sale and its buyer in the accounts ledger.”

“Can we see it?”

“Sure.” Leukien rummaged around in the back room, only to return with a large book. “Take a look.” He handed it to Sebastian.

Sebastian cleared out some pottery fragments and lay the book down. A piece of one of the open pages had been crudely torn from the ledger.

“The date indicates the entry is from a few weeks ago,” said Sebastian. “Interesting.”

Dril pointed at the remaining part of the entry. “Kenzil: Eight ja—“ was all it read. “Remember anything about that sale?”

Leukien thought for a moment. “Yeah, I was here for that. An order for eight jars with jeweled tops. I recall the buyer was a black-robed man with long silver beard braided into two lengths. He seemed pretty nervous, his eyes darting back and forth from my dad to the front door. I figured him for some eccentric coot who wanted jars to keep cremated relatives in.”

“If it’s Kenzil the Evoker, I know where to find him,” said Sebastian.

“If there are seven more of those things…” said Kham.

They all ran for the door.

[talien]

The home of Kenzil was a one-story structure that sat just north of the Cluster in Drac’s End.

“Kenzil was a powerful evoker.” Sebastian led them at a brisk pace toward Kenzil’s abode. “He decided to retire from adventuring and make his home in Freeport near the Cluster.”

“All you wizards know each other?” asked Vlad.

Sebastian shook his head. “I was born with my talents. Kenzil learned his. In fact, he taught arcana and basic sciences at the Freeport Institute for many years. Here we are.”

Kham walked up to the door. He reached for the lock and then pushed hesitantly on the door. “It’s open.”

There was a chorus of blades being unsheathed as they all drew their weapons. Kham stepped inside.

On the east wall was a fireplace that sported an array of figurines on its mantle. A square wooden table with four chairs sat in front of the fireplace. At left center of the room lay an impressively woven rug resembling an exploding red-orange fireball. The only other feature was a bowl of incredibly dried fruit on the table.

“Doesn’t look like he was a very successful adventurer,” said Vlad.

They split up and began poking around.

“Kenzil wasn’t interested in the accumulation of baubles,” said Sebastian.

“Except staves of defense,” added Dril.

Beldin entered what must have been Kenzil’s bedroom.

A closet stood on the north wall of the bedroom. Sandals and boots, one pair each, rested on the floor of the closet beside empty pouches. The bed itself was curtained.

As Beldin drew near the canopy bed with its drawn blue curtains, he could barely discern a figure laying beyond them along with a putrid odor. The humanoid shape did not move at his approach.

The dwarf swallowed hard and pushed back the curtains with his axe.

Drawing back the curtain revealed a human in black robes with a long twin-braided silver beard. A dried stain crept out from beneath the man’s left breast to cascade down the side of the bed.

“Guys,” said Beldin. “I think I found Kenzil.”

The others joined him.

Sebastian wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure which is worse: the smell or the decayed state of the body.”

“One thing’s for sure,” said Dril. “Kenzil’s dead. So somebody else sent those packages.”

Just then, they heard a loud noise downstairs.

[talien]

Vlad poked his head down through the trap door. Then he slowly made his way down the ladder. The room was barely lit by light from above.

Beldin and Sebastian followed.

“Kenzil did a lot of experimenting in his career,” said the dark-kin. The basement was a testament to this nature of “try and see” in its myriad of beakers, vials, weights, components, fluids, and instruments.

Two long wooden tables divided the basement into three defined aisles.

“Somebody light a torch,” said Vlad. “I can barely see.”

“Humans,” snorted Beldin. He reached for the torch, only to bump into something big and hairy.

Beldin shouted and engaged a creature that was all teeth and claws. It reared up on its hind legs and bellowed.

Vlad stepped forward to assist, freezing as another creature blocked his path. “Finally,” said Vlad with a grin. His blind-fighting training was going to come in handy.

A shrieking wind picked up, drowning out all conversation.

Dril stood warily by the ladder, scimitar and dagger at the ready. “I can’t see anything!” he shouted in panic.

Kham stuck his head down through the trapdoor. “Guys? What’s going on down here?” He blinked, peering into the swirling darkness. “Did somebody shout ‘bear’?”

[talien]

Beldin knew how to deal with bears. Oh yes, he knew how to deal with them.

The summoned beast swiped at him, but it was confined in the basement. The dwarf rolled to the side and hacked at its flank. The bear bellowed in pain.

With another swing of his axe, the beast collapsed to the ground. Then he went after his real target, the three orcs in the far corner.

Crossbow bolts clanged off of his shield as he charged forward. Beldin lifted his axe to slash one of the orcs still fumbling his crossbow…only to have the weapon slip right out of his grasp, coated in magical grease.

“What the…” Beldin reached for his morningstar, but was forced to hop backwards as the orc reached his cutlass first. “There’s a wizard here!” shouted Beldin. “Invisible!”

Dril and Vlad hacked down the other summoned bear. A wall of wind bisected the room, making it practically impossible to shout to those near the ladder.

“Orcs,” spat Kham. He drew two pistols out of the folds of his overcoat. “Figures they’d behind the bombs.”

Sebastian stood by, uncertain what to do next. “I’m not so sure,” he muttered to himself. “Something’s not right.”

“For once we agree.” Kham fired both pistols. The wall of wind diverted the bullets, firing them off in the far corners of the basement.

“Radius Incensio!”

Spiraling rays of searing energy sliced in Kham. “Sarish’s ass,” he cursed. “That hurt!”

The spell had been cast by an orc with pronounced ears. He had a crooked smile and a similar posture. A dagger, scrolls, and a potion vial hung from his beltline; a crossbow and bolts were carried snugly on his back. He had a large, floppy cap that partially concealed his glittering green eyes.

“There you are!” shouted Sebastian.

The orc was reaching for something in the folds of his vest.

“I didn’t want to have to do this.” Sebastian pointed. “Radius Incensio!”

The same dancing fire arced from Sebastian to the orc. He fell, his wand discharging upwards towards the ceiling. A strand of webbing spurted upwards ineffectively.

“Good shot,” said Kham. “If he got off that stupid spell we’d be down here forev—“

The room was filled with billowing mist. Dril and Vlad swore.

Seconds later, they were surrounded by wall-to-wall webbing.

“Sarish’s ass!” shouted Kham. “There were two invisible spell casters!”

Sebastian’s lips became a thin line. “There’s only one way to clear a room full of webs…”

Kham looked at him sideways. “Wait a minute, maybe we should—.”

“Incendiaries globus!” shouted Sebastian.

[talien]

The room was completely devoid of anything flammable. Tables, chairs, and orc were burned to a crisp.

“I yield!” said a particularly ugly orc hag. Her skin seemed to always be glistening, though with sea spray or oily skin it was difficult to tell. Big purple eyes and a gap-toothed grin drank in every detail of her surroundings.

Dril patted one of his arms down to put out his burning sleeve. Then he walked over to Sebastian. They were nose to nose when Dril pulled his hood back.

“I’ve been blown up twice today,” he said in a carefully controlled voice. “I appreciate the effort. But if you do that again, so help me Althares I will kill you with my bare hands.”

Sebastian swallowed and took a step backwards.

His point made, Dril returned to the orc shaman.

“What were you doing here?” asked Vlad.

“Trying to save Freeport, fools! You’ve doomed us all!”

“Doomed us?” asked Beldin. His beard was scorched from Sebastian’s fire magic. “As I recall, you summoned two bears to attack us.”

“The bears would not have attacked if you didn’t attack first!” snarled the orc.

“Filthy greenskins!” shouted Kham.

“Stupid humans!” shouted the orc.

“Enough,” said Sebastian. “My name is Sebastian.” He bowed slightly in the orc’s direction. “What’s yours?”

“Prolk,” the orc shaman said. “Let me tend to Rask.” She nodded at the badly burned and unconscious orc in the floppy hat. “He may still live yet.”

Kham was about to say something. “Leave her be,” said Sebastian.

After a few moments of chanting over Rask, Prolk turned back towards them. “Thank you.” She seemed relieved, an emotion they weren’t used to seeing on an orc’s fanged maw. “He will live. But I fear it is too late.”

“Too late for what?” asked Dril.

“We found this.” Prolk handed a crumpled note to Sebastian.

The dark-kin scanned it. “I don’t know who this Edwards is, but he told someone named Coombs to move the bombs to a warehouse.”

“But we don’t know where the warehouse is!” exclaimed Vlad.

“I do.” There was a twinkle in Prolk’s eye. “Let me go and I will tell you.”

Kham patted the pistols hidden beneath his overcoat. “Why don’t I shoot it out of you instead?”

Sebastian stepped in front of Kham and handed the note back to Prolk. “Tell Scarbelly to meet us at the warehouse. We will need his extra muscle.”

Prolk explained where the warehouse was located. Then she tilted her head, peering at Sebastian curiously. “You are part-human, yes?”

Sebastian frowned. “Unfortunately.”

“Yes,” said Prolk. “Unfortunately. You are an honorable man, Sebastian Arnyal. We will not forget.”

“I’m not helping no dirty orcs,” sneered Kham.

“Nobody’s asking you,” said Dril. “We’re helping Freeport. Let’s go, we haven’t much time.”

[talien]

The building known as Ztorage was a massive structure made of brick and formed by magic. Two large iron double doors were its only entrance.

Kham paced in front of the building. “So much for your backup,” he said to Sebastian. “Just like I thought, Scarbelly’s a no-show. You can’t depend on those damn pigs.”

“He’ll come,” said Sebastian. “Perhaps he has run into some trouble.”

“I’m not waiting any longer.” Kham nodded to Vlad. “Vlad?”

Vlad hurled a grappling hook up the side of the building. The rope uncoiled several loops. Kham tugged on it.

When he was confident that the rope would hold, he began scaling the sheer wall.

“I’d better go with him,” said Dril. He followed after Kham.

Once they were on the roof, Kham ran to and fro, testing the tiles underfoot.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” asked Dril.

“I keep having flashbacks to the last time Sebastian didn’t help us enter a warehouse,” said Kham. “And I’m sure as hell not waiting for orcs to bail us out.” He reached down and pulled back a small door that blended in with the tile. “Perfect.”

“What?”

“It looks like a winch,” said Kham. He began turning it.

The winch slowly cranked open a large section of the roof to a cacophony of shrieking metal and jangling chains.

“So much for the element of surprise,” muttered Dril.

Kham peered down into the darkness. Everburning torches cast a flickering green light along the walls, every twenty feet or so.

The val began fiddling with another rope. “That’s about a seventy foot drop, right?”

“What are you doing?” asked Dril.

Kham had one end tied to the winch. The other was tied to his waist. He handed Dril a length of rope. “Hold onto this. I’m going in.”

“Are you insane? You don’t know what’s down there!”

Kham didn’t respond. He had already plunged headlong into the darkness.

[Napftor]

Great stuff, Mike. Can't wait to see what's waiting in the warehouse for the heroes.

[talien]

Thanks, it's been so long since someone posted a comment I was starting to get worried.

All I have to say about what's coming up next is...Kham should have listened to Dril.

[talien]

A giant robed figure lumbered stiffly from the shadows as Kham landed on his feet.

The greenish haze from the nearest torch allowed a quick glimpse inside its hood. The ghastly visage that greeted Kham’s hasty glance made him wish he hadn’t bothered: beneath the hood was half a human and half an orc face stitched together crosswise running from one ear across the top lip and ending at the jawbone.

It advanced towards him with a guttural moan.

“Ah crap,” muttered Kham. He turned and sliced the rope with his scimitar. He shouted up towards Dril, whose head was a mere silhouette above. “I’m opening the door!”

A meaty fist pulverized the ground where Kham had landed. He jogged backwards and then spun to sprint towards the double doors.

There was a groan to his right.

“How many golems does this guy have?”

His answer came in the form of another fist barely missing his head.

“I’m in!” shouted Dril, closer to the ground this time.

Kham rolled to his feet with a dagger in his hands, its hilt splaying an octopus arms’ array of lock picks. The other golem pounded towards him.

He fiddled with the lock. “Come on, come on!”

There was a click. Kham didn’t have time to verify his success. Something big brushed his hair and smashed hard into the door just above his head. It slammed outwards.

“Ow!” shouted Vlad on the other side.

Kham leaped and rolled as two huge fists smashed furrows into to the ground.

Beldin and Vlad pounded into the warehouse. Vlad was still rubbing his nose.

Kham rolled to his left, but the golem kept tracking him. He wasn’t accustomed to such relentless single-mindedness in an opponent. “Guys, do something!”

There was a powerful explosion, and then Vlad and Beldin were trapped like Xerxes had once been, encased in bubbles of force.

“Sarish’s ass, not again!”

[talien]

Kham skidded into a storage room and slammed the door closed. It was a flimsy wooden door.

WHAM! The wood creaked and splintered as a fist-sized dent appeared.

Kham pushed a large crate in front of the door.

WHAM! The golem’s fist penetrated the door. Through it, Kham could see signs of combat taking place.

He was running out of options. Kham dove behind crates and hid.

WHAM! The door fell off its hinges. The golem took a step forward, then hesitated. It wheeled around, an axe jutting from the back of its head.

Scarbelly roared a challenge. “That’s right! There’s more where that came from!”

Sebastian pointed at the masked, midnight-cloaked figure that had thrown the grenade. Vlad and Beldin were helpless, trapped by magical spheres of force. “Radius Incensio!”

Fiery races sliced into the cloaked figure. Bloody Vengeance soldiers unleashed a volley from their crossbows, peppering him with bolts.

Two more bears appeared, momentarily distracting the golems from their targets. The figure disappeared with a puff of smoke.

“Run, coward!” shouted Scarbelly. He yanked his axe out of the back of the golem, who swung around in confusion. “I’ll make quick work o' your rag dolls!”

Scarbelly hacked hard at the golem’s left ankle. It snapped off, tripping the thing.

As the golem fell to the ground, orcs descended upon it, hacking and roaring. Their ferocity was such that Sebastian took an involuntary step back.

The remaining flesh golem grabbed both bears by their necks and discarded them aside without effort. Prolk and Sebastian looked up at the looming shadow of the thing as it raised its fists…

The angry retort of Dril’s rifle sang out. What had once been the golem’s head exploded into its component parts. Orc and dark-kin were showered with brittle flesh and thread.

“Thanks,” said Sebastian.

“Come on!” shouted Scarbelly, his rage only temporarily abated. “Coombs has got t' have a vault around here somewhere!”

Kham peeked timidly out of the room where he had been hiding. “So we won?”

Sebastian glowered at him. “Thanks to Scarbelly and the orcs of the Bloody Vengeance.”

The val dusted himself off and ignored the comment. Dril gave him a welcome excuse by waving a piece of parchment.

“I found this on the floor.” Dril read it out loud. “It reads from left to right: three, five, seven, and two.”

“That’s a combination,” said Sebastian. “Let’s go stop Scarbelly before he gets us all killed.”

Kham turned to Beldin and Vlad, standing helplessly in their own personal bubbles. “You guys, uh…stay here.”