Rolling Excursion into the Land of Cheese

[GodOfCheese]

Effrem and Andrew

Once Andrew is certain that Effrem is no longer hallucinating, he devotes much of his time to looking nervously out onto the main street while he cautiously answers Effrem’s questions. Viewed in profile, his eyes are busier, more nervous than Effrem has ever seen them, but his lips seem to work independently of his eyes. “I don’t know what they are,” he says, “but there seem to be more of them all the time.”

“To know their numbers, you must be tracking them.”

Andrew’s eyes keep up their nervous vigil. “More like running from them, like you.”

“I’m not running from them.”

“Just in a hurry, then, were you?”

Effrem squints. “Well, that’s not what I’m trying to do.”

Andrew leans back around the corner, out of sight from the road. He crouches next to Effrem, who is still trying to get his breathing under control. “You know,” Andrew begins, lowering himself to sit down. “It’s not been my experience that many people spend their time running from others out of choice.”

Effrem looks down. “My friends...” He pauses, almost afraid to ask. “They’re dead, aren’t they?” To Andrew’s raised eyebrows, he goes on. “I... left them in the middle of battle. We were overmatched. By now, they must be dead.” Effrem closes his eyes and whispers, “I failed you all...” under his breath.

Andrew shrugs. “I don’t know, but at least you’re still alive.”

Effrem looks up at Andrew guiltily. “I have to find them,” he begins to reason. “Even if they’re dead... if I can get their bodies back to Sarek, he can bring them back. He’d at least do it for Chloe, and she could resurrect the others...”

“That’s awfully risky. They fight as one... and they’re very good at it,” Andrew explains, “The people who comprise their... organization... don’t behave like regular folk. I don’t think they’re individual minds at all.” He shudders inwardly, his dark eyes squinting as he thinks. “Besides, they tend to carry away their victims.”

Effrem’s eyebrows go up in concern, sensing more to this than Andrew is telling. “What do you mean?”

Andrew is silent for a moment. “I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“What?” Effrem stands up, becoming angry. “Why?”

Andrew watches him, still crouching. His tone is very calm. “Because I’m afraid that if I do, you’ll want to go off on some hopeless quest to save them.”

“Your concern is touching, but--”

“My concerns run deeper in this matter than you realize,” Andrew interrupts cryptically. “Believe me, Effrem,” he adds. His face hardens and he emphasizes every word. “If you run off on some do-gooder rescue mission, you’re a dead man.”

Effrem mulls this possibility, scratching his chin. “What’s your angle here, Andrew?”

 

[GodOfCheese]

Effrem and Andrew, continued

“My angle, Effrem?” Andrew blinks, standing up. He doesn’t actually feign innocence, but his expression yields nothing. “What do you mean?”

“Your angle, Andrew,” Effrem says evenly, the fog of his mind having lifted. “Thank you for saving my life, but why do it?” He pauses for a moment to think. “What exactly is your concern, as you put it?”

Andrew runs his fingers through his greasy hair and grins. “It’s not enough to say that I’d rather you not die? A wise hawk doesn’t waste time asking the mouse why it isn’t in its den...”

“When that mouse turns out to be bait in a hunter’s trap, the question will come up all too late.”

“Are you implying that I’d send you into a trap? Hasn’t their magic worn off you yet?”

You might, for all I know, Andrew, if it served your interest. “How am I to know that you’re not yourself entrapped? Don’t play a fool’s game with me, Andrew. I doubt we’ve the time.”

Andrew exhales slowly, and he affects a condescending look. “Playing the game makes certain niether of us gets played by it. The man who doesn’t dance is the one who sticks out at the party. You know this, or so I assumed...”

“Quit stalling and answer the question,” Effrem says. “What did you mean when you talked about victims, before?”

“Fine,” the criminal scowls, “They murder people and tend to carry them off. I don’t know what they do with them in secret exactly, but I have my guesses. At first, I thought they were just disposing of the bodies...” at this, he seems to lose himself in contemplation.

“...but...?”

“I was surveilling one from atop a roof,” Andrew begins. “I’d been running—it doesn’t matter. I basically got lucky. He stopped one of the town guard with his eyes—you’ve seen that, right?*” Effrem shakes his head. “Okay, I’ll get to that in a minute.

“He stunned the guard, and then slit his throat. It was very efficient, I must say. I’ve seen killers at work in the past...” his nostrils flare contemptuously. “It’s disgusting business, but you can tell the ones who are good at it. You can also quite easily tell which ones enjoy it.”

Effrem looks on silently, somewhat shocked by the way Andrew is talking. Perhaps misconstruing his silence as interest, Andrew continues, his eyes averted. “People are easy to kill, Effrem.” His eyes flick up to meet Effrem’s, possibly to emphasize his point. “What’s hard is to kill people easily.

“These... beings... are talented. They knew exactly where and when to strike, and they did so without hesitation.”

“So they’re... what?” Effrem asks, “...a race of assassins?”

Andrew shakes his head violently. “Not assassins. Executioners, maybe.”

Effrem mulls this for a moment. “This is what you avoided telling me? That they’re dangerous? We’ve fought these people and they don’t seem particularly talented. I’ve met, fought, and defeated better warriors in my time.”

Andrew looks annoyed. “Effrem, the threat isn’t from them as individual fighters— they don’t seem to act as individuals. They act...” he searches for words. “They look and act like people, but also like they’re all ruled by the same mind.”

“Some type of telepathy?” Effrem offers. Like Chloe’s voices...?

Andrew’s brow furrows. “I’ve no idea.” He considers for a moment. “Effrem, they... on that roof, I...” he starts again. “I think they eat their victims.”

*when the Slugs attacked the Cathedral the previous night, they made eye contact with Eyvind, a cleric there, and stunned him. One one earlier encounter, a captive slug stunned one of the town guard from his cell, but made no attempt to escape.

 

[GodOfCheese]

Zara again...

Zara’s world consists of a dark chamber whose walls are echoing footsteps. There are tight constraints on her hands and feet... manacles? No, ropes... wires, perhaps. She’s sitting on something... a chair. Her vision clears a little.

It’s still very dark, but there’s a grey, hazy illumination filtering down from the ceiling. It’s not enough to really see by, but the flickering shadows suggest that something is moving around. The silence of the chamber means that whatever it is, it’s being quiet. Zara looks carefully around, hoping her eyes will adjust to the gloom.

They don’t.

“You’re awake,” the un-slug-like voice notes. “Wonderful,” it muses with a kind of cold humor that is already beginning to grate on Zara’s nerves. “I suppose you’re trying to look around, hmmm?”

Zara says nothing.

“Maybe get a grip on your surroundings?”

Zara listens carefully, focusing on finding the source of the voice.

“Not working, is it?”

 

[GodOfCheese]

Effrem and Andrew, again.

“What do you mean, they eat them?” Effrem thunders, snatching his sword from Andrew suddenly. “I’m not going to let them eat my friends!” He turns to leave.

Andrew snatches Effrem’s arm, his eyes fierce. “They’re already dead, Effrem! You ca-!”

Effrem yanks his arm out of Andrew’s grasp with the fanatical strength of an affronted zealot. This proves far more energy than neesssary, for Andrew’s grip wasn’t particularly devoted. The result is that the force of Effrem’s escape nearly spins him around. His eyes flash threateningly at the other man.

“You can’t save them,” Andrew finishes slowly and more calmly. He raises his hands, palms outward: truce. “...and even if you could, you’d have no way to know their loyalty. Don’t waste your life just trying to bring back their bodies.”

Effrem’s eyes narrow defensively. “I don’t expect you to understand. All I need is...!” He breaks off, belatedly digesting Andrew’s words. Coldly, he adds, “What did you mean, I’d have no way to know their loyalty?”

Andrew fidgets, searching for words. Motion of Effrem’s sword-arm attracts his eye, and he lunges backward, drawing his own sword. The movements take place in the blink of an eye. After the split-second of motion, the two stand as warriors facing off. In the stillness, Andrew holds his sword out defensively.

But Effrem’s sword rests at Andrew’s throat. Across their blades, the two trade stares. Andrew whispers, “Threatening the man who saved your life, Effrem? That doesn’t seem like your style...”

“Threatening the man who’s threatening my friends is my style, though. My enemy’s friend is my enemy, even if he saves my life once.”

Andrew’s throat wiggles slightly as he swallows. “You’ll learn nothing from my corpse.”

“It seems I’ll learn nothing from you even if I let you live, at this rate.”

Andrew hisses through grit teeth. “I may or may not have anything to tell you alive, but if you kill me, my silence is guaranteed. Think I want to die? Lower your sword.”

Effrem whispers, “You first.”

 

[GodOfCheese]

Chloe and Davron

“What’s that, over there?” Chloe points. Davron hustles over to the left side of the alley, a few yards ahead, and Chloe follows. He crouches and reaches out.

Davron holds up a fairly bloody sandal. “They’re carrying Zara,” he says simply. “We should be gaining on them—she’s not heavy, but she’s no featherweight either. That’s sure to slow them down.”

Where could they be taking her? Chloe wonders. Why carry her away at all?

 

[GodOfCheese]

Effrem and Andrew, continued

The sound of Andrew’s shortsword landing on the soft soil is astonishingly loud when he releases it abruptly. “Fine,” he says.

The tip of Effrem’s blade dips slightly, still threatening, just not as imminently. “Talk.”

“They eat them.”

“You said that already.”

Andrew closes his eyes. “They eat them completely.” Effrem doesn’t react. “Completely, Effrem—I watched him divour every bit of the man he killed in a manner of minutes.”

Effrem turns his nose up, disgusted, but still says nothing. His sword’s tip doesn’t waver.

“A few hours later, it...” he chokes a little, then: “I saw the man he killed later.”

Effrem’s brows squeeze his eyes to slits. “You said he ate every bit of him, so only his skeleton could be left...”

Andrew shakes his head carefully. “No, I saw him. As if the killer had never scratched him. Effrem, they kill them and replace them somehow. Make copies of them, like with pressing blocks, and then nobody’s the wiser.

“That’s what I meant—you can’t go after them! You’ve no way of knowing whether your friends are really helping or waiting to kill you!”

“Why do you care?” Effrem asks defensively, trying to refute Andrew’s assessment. There has to be a way to save them!

“I do,” Andrew says, looking slightly hurt. “Leave it at that.” He looks down at Effrem’s sword. “Do you mind?”

Effrem sheaths his sword.

Andrew licks his teeth delicately. “The tar-people...”

“We call them slugs.”

Andrew smiles, briefly. “The slugs, then...” His smile disintegrates. “...their numbers are growing. I can see where this is going, and Millington won’t be safe for me much longer.” He inhales carefully. “I have to get out of here, Effrem.”

Effrem’s face, for a moment, is a perfect mirror of his thoughts: You coward, Andrew.

Andrew scowls, “...and if you’re smart you’ll be right behind me. What’s keeping you here? You’ve no allegiance to the Empire* or that temple**, or even to this city. All that’s left is your friends, and they’re dead!”

Effrem relaxes and whispers, “Not if you help me.”

*Millington is on the frontier, at the edge of the Saldasha Empire. During its history, it has changed hands several times. The Empire made its presence known recently when Voldren Greenshield's army arrived, officially to shore up defenses after an attack by Ogres. When this happened, Andrew went to ground, effectively vanishing off the face of the earth. That is, until he snatched Effrem above.

**the temple of Pelor, that is. Effrem's neutrality about the various deities is conspicuous considering his long-time association with Chloe. Note that Effrem is not an atheist -- just not a follower.

 

[GodOfCheese]

Chloe and Davron, hot on Zara's trail...

Davron and Chloe crouch in the shadows at the mouth of the alley. “There,” he says. “They went over there.”

There are not very many wooden structures in Millington. The wind and driving spring rains rot them very quickly, and dwarves prefer to build from stone, or at least mud, given the chance. However, having an ample supply of wood floating down the river encourages some people to build such flimsy shelters.

Four heavy-looking men stand a silent guard in front of the delapidated wooden building a few dozen yards ahead. The building, really not much more than an old barn, is practically nestled against the northern protective wall, which is itself in poor shape because Millington has no real enemies to the North*.

“I can’t imagine many people come this way,” Chloe ventures. “It’d make a good hideout.”

Davron points to a few stones on the ground. “They were dragging her at this point. The stones must have scratched her feet, because there’s more blood, and it’s been smeared.”


*there are no settlements at all to the North for several hundred miles until you reach the mountains, under which is the Dwarven Landhold. The Landhold and the Empire have a shaky peace, though because Millington was originally part of the Landhold, it might or might not be considered friendly to that city. Beyond the mountains lies Axiardalon's Waste, and no mere wall could protect Millington from the Great White Wyrm.

 

[GodOfCheese]

Zara's conversation...

Whatever the contents of the room, they seem to be frustrating Zara’s attempts to localize the source of the voice. “Who are you?” Zara asks, confronting the problem in true Zara-style. “What is this place?”

“Who is anyone, really? Who are you?”

Zara’s mouth tightens, annoyed at the redirect. “I am Zara, of the Order of the Crescent Moon.”

“It was a rhetorical question -- You’re going to die soon anyway. Then you’ll be even more a slave than you are today.” With this, the voice cackles slightly.

“I am no slave, and at least I know who I am, Nameless One. You are only a piece of talking darkness.”

The mirth, if that’s what it was, drains from the voice. “I’d never expect a closed-minded follower like you to understand how much more I am than that. I’m more than... well, suffice it to say that I’m not the one who’s tied up... waiting to die, am I?”

Zara’s nostrils flare. “I do not die so easily. If you are free, prove your worth and release me.”

“I don’t think so.”

Her eyes squint, still trying to see in the gloom. Certain now that the voice is no ally, she growls, “then untie my hands and fight me honorably!”

A contemptuous snort erupts from somewhere close. “Nice try, but I don’t care a Manticore’s tail about honor. If it matters any, though, I’m certain you’re dying without it...” he pauses, “and soon, too.”

Zara growls. “If you are going to try to kill me, what are you waiting for?”

“Who said I was going to kill you?”

Zara works her wrists against the tight cords binding her hands. Something about the voice is irritatingly familiar. “You said--”

“—I said you were going to die. I didn’t say I was going to kill you, did I? I’m just going to watch.”

He talks about himself too much. Zara’s eyes narrow. “I know you, little man... Little coward! Show yourself!”

 

[GodOfCheese]

Chloe and Davron prepare to storm the barn

Chloe watches the four guards in front of the set of large, wooden doors to the barn. “If those are slugs covering the entrance,” she whispers, “we’ll need to defeat them swifly and quietly.”

Davron’s eyes don’t leave the guards either. “I have my bow, but the slugs in the past seemed very durable. Any one of them could take several arrows.”

Chloe bites her lip. “Even if I had good, splashy spells today, they’d surely make enough noise to alert those inside.” She loads her crossbow carefully. “I’m not a very good shot with this.”

Davron nods. “They probably have an alarm bell or something just inside... and all they have to do is take cover behind those doors.”

The four men stand like statues, watching the area carefully. Chloe blinks. “It doesn’t matter... their telepathy, or whatever, is sure to alert them when we attack. Maybe we shouldn’t bother being quiet.”

Davron closes his eyes for a moment. “Then we should expect lots of reinforcements almost immediately. Chloe, I have faith in you, but I don’t think we can do this. We need help.”

Chloe searches the air for answers. There were a whole crowd of enemies! How could the mere two of them prevail against such a throng? We can’t spare the time to go for help... who knows what they’re doing to Zara in there? She looks up into the sky, pleading for a solution. I’m not afraid to die... but isn’t there any other way? “If only Effrem were here,” she whispers.

“We shouldn’t linger, Davron,” Chloe concludes worriedly.

Davron exhales with a look of resigned calm. “Alright. I’ll take aim at the man closest the door... maybe if I can drop him, his body will block the entrance and make it harder to take cover behind it.”

Chloe nods. Assuming the door opens outward. “Sounds like as good a gamble as we’re going to get.”

“I can only hope they make a run toward us with those longswords*,” Davron continues. “They don’t look like archers.” Indeed, no crossbows or other ranged weapons can be seen upon the guards’ belts. His face betrays what’s going through his head though: ...but the prudent move would be for them to take cover.

Chloe smiles. “They don’t seem to mind sacrificing themselves or their comrades, so charging headlong toward us might be their chosen response. We should be ready for that.”

“Sure,” Davron nods. “I’ll take any good fortune that comes my way.”

Chloe nods back, and kneels. Looking up expectantly at Davron, she holds her hands out, empty and palms facing him. After a moment, he kneels with her and takes her hands. She closes her eyes and raises her face to the sky, her lips whispering a prayer in haste.

* Davron at this point was a Ranger trying to further improve his two-weapon fighting. Although he's plenty savvy with a bow, he's most effective in melee.

 

[GodOfCheese]

Zara's Tormentor Revealed

“Hah! You remember me!” The taunting voice is close now, its source seemingly level with Zara’s head as she sits bound to the chair. “Truly, I wondered how you could possibly have forgotten...” When the hazy light finally illuminates the figure, it sparkles, as though covered in fine jewels. Slowly, it resolves into a childish form carrying a child-sized walking stick. “...my melodious voice?”

But to Zara’s eye, benefiting from her emerging memory of the spoken voice, the figure is that of a halfling. A sadistic halfling from whom she and her companions had been accidentally parted deep beneath Millington. The same sadistic halfling who had later abandoned his other companions in their moment of need while Zara herself could only watch. “So, you now seek to betray me as you did Noella and Sonali, Milo?”

“I haven’t betrayed you, Zara,” the voice retorts. “It’s you who’ve betrayed me... not that I feel like caring one way or another.” He blinks, and his expression seems to grow severe. “Maybe I do care. You left us*, down there in that demon-filled maze!”

“We did not abandon you! We were cut off!”

“Mushroom milk!” Milo exclaims. “You hid behind the door when the invisible demons attacked! You took Effrem with you, the only one of us who could have seen them!” His eyes bore into her as his voice lowers murderously. “I find that coincidence hard to believe.”

Zara growls at the halfling defiantly. “What did you expect us to do? We were trapped!”

“It’s a shame, really. I rather liked Sonali,” Milo muses. “I find it pleasurable to spend my time in the company of attractive women. I suppose that’s why you killed them, wasn’t it, Zara?” He frowns. “Jealousy? And I thought you were Noella’s friend...”

“I did not kill them—you did!” Zara wrenches at the cords around her wrists and legs, jerking the chair forward as she lunges ineffectively at Milo. The chair wobbles and bounces, but doesn’t tip over.

Milo takes a step back, putting a little more space between himself and the wriggling monk. “Wasn’t me who abandoned them to their deaths, woman. I was lucky to escape with my life.”

“Liar! We watched you through the magic mirrors! I saw you use your magic to escape when the attack began!” The memory rises in her throat, bitter like bile, of Milo teleporting away, leaving Noella, Sonali, Korith Darkstone, and the crazed refugee to die. “Your cowardice killed them all!” She verily roars with hatred and frustration. “Untie me so I can kill you!”

Milo smiles a smile that Zara can’t see, but can practically hear. “No,” he says gleefully, though he keeps his distance from the enraged apparition who was once his companion. “See, I’m going to let you stew in all that anger and frustration and then feed you to a good friend of mine. Yes, someone I’ve met in the wandering months,” he gestures in the empty air between himself and Zara. “...since you and last I parted company.”

Zara’s brown eyes flash like smoldering coals in the dark, her teeth bared in feral malice. She says nothing but glares at her short opponent silently. Her body stills as she forces calm upon herself, as though trapping a fierce storm of enraged hatred within the iron vessel of her discipline.

“You’re going to die without honor,” Milo says disappointedly. “You could at least die with a smile...”

---
* Zara and Milo parted company in Chorok's ever-changing maze. Zara's half of the party was investigating a room filled with magical scrying mirrors and Milo's was out in the hall (this was a tactic Milo himself suggested because he knew there were traps in that room and he didn't want to be in it if they were set off). Invisible demons closed the door to the mirror room, which caused the maze to reconfigure itself. In the blink of an eye, the room with Zara's party was moved randomly somewhere else in the maze. Having no idea where they were, Zara and her party could only scry on their comrades with the mirrors. Milo Dimension Doored out, abandoning his party-members to die outnumbered.