The Adventures of Olgar Shiverstone (Angelsboi: In memorium)
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
CHAPTER 3 – Son of Ted
The party stayed at the Temple of Kraig in Aerolite City for a relatively uneventful week. Alton was still off on his spirit quest, and had not returned, and the group had decided to wait a while longer for him. Streith mumbled something about a vision, and wandered off, vowing to return. Belarn spent the week wandering about town, gathering information, and spying on a halfling-run bookshop in the market district. Nelum spent most of his time in his room, mumbling incantations over the many yet-to-be identified magic items that they had recovered during their adventures. Wodyn wandered about the woods, doing some hunting and communing with the squirrels. Olgar spent a lot of time praying – brawling – in the common room, but did take time out to scribe a few scrolls that he had been meaning to work on. He discovered that by the end of the week Kraig had favored him, and he could cast even greater divine incantations.
He was demonstrating his newly discovered hold halfling spell to Belarn one morning in the common room when Wodyn strode in from the woods, looking torn and bloodied.
“Wha’ happened t’ you, man?” Olgar asked.
“I was attacked by some kind of fiendish boars in the woods,” the barbarian replied. “They were tough – I had to retreat to survive.”
“Think it was th’ work o’ tha’ druid we irritated las’ week?” Olgar asked.
“Probably. Didn’t see anyone around,” Wodyn shrugged, and sat down.
Nelum came downstairs, then, the pile of equipment in his arms. He had finished identifying all the items. Yuusdrail was sporting the black-and-red robes of Moloch.
“Wha’s she wearing those fer?” Olgar demanded. “We’ve not divided th’ treasure yet! Them’s our magic!” Yuusdrail passed Olgar the curing wand, and he hushed his protests.
After a bit of haggling, the party came to a consensus. Nelum would receive the protective earrings of natural armor and cloak of resistance, to be considered a permanent retainer for the use of his services in the future. Yuusdrail kept the robes, Olgar the wand, and Belarn received a potion of invisibility and a set of pipes of the sewers. They divided up the magical flaming torches equally. They decided to pool the remaining items, the holy symbol of Moloch and the magical sickle, until they could sell them and divide up the profits. Aerolite City was too small to have much of a market for such powerful items, so that would mean a trip to a larger city.
They had just resolved to make the trip the next day when the sounds of screaming came from the street outside. The group rushed out on the front steps of the temple, drawing weapons.
A local woman was running toward the temple, a look of abject horror on her face. Chasing her was a squat, whitish, blubbery humanoid, that stood about three feet tall.
“Cousin a’ yers?” Olgar smirked at Belarn, but Nelum shouted out “It’s a DEMON!”
The woman ran behind them, gasping, and fainted. The thing made a series of rumbling, burbling, screeching noises. Nelum’s eyes brightened, and he said “It said: ‘You summoned me, I have come for my payment! Give her to me!’”
“That tears it,” Olgar said, “Iff’n she made a deal with a demon, i’s no business o’ ours, let it have ‘er. Ye deals wi’ demons, ye suffered the consequences.”
The creature stopped advancing, and burbled at Nelum. Nelum burbled back, then translated “It says she is of the bloodline, and must be taken.”
“We’ll see about that,” Wodyn said, and stepped off of the temple steps, drawing his greataxe. With one powerful; overhand swing, he crushed the thing to babbling goo. He turned around and looked helplessly at Nelum. “I thought you said this was a demon. Aren’t demons supposed to be tough?”
Nelum shrugged. “It’s just a little demon,” he explained, “they mostly run errands.”
“Aye, an’ we’ll ha’ nae truck wi’ demonic errands,” Olgar protested. “Thi’ town’s goin’ t’ ‘ell in a ‘andbasket. Entirely too much weird stuff goin’ on fer me likin’. Best we’re off t’ other parts. Leave th’ wench – she made ‘er bed, let ‘er lie in it.”
Wodyn was already helping the woman to her feet, though. “You saved me!” she said, once she’d been steadied. “I don’t know where it came from! I was just burning some terrible books Sarah had, and …”
“You’d better begin at the beginning,” Wodyn said, sitting her down. Olgar rolled his eyes, but stowed his weapons and leaned in to listen.
“Well, about a week ago some of my daughter Sarah’s friends began to disappear. They had been acting really strangely, going out in the dead of night, but I didn’t think much of it. First Zachariah Lightbringer disappeared, then the twins Brandon and Brenda. Then yesterday, Sarah didn’t come home from the market. I was worried, so this morning I searched her room. I found some sort of evil, demonic books. I threw them into the fire, and that’s when that thing appeared.”
”What kind of parent ye call yerself, lettin’ yer daughter get caught up wi’ a demonic cult,“ Olgar said accusingly. The woman just gaped at him.
“The thing mentioned bloodlines,” Wodyn continued, and then had an inspiration, “are you related to the Gentries?”
“Yes,” she said, “Distantly. Zachariah was part of the family.”
The others looked at Wodyn, who was letting the woman go, asking her to return to her home. “What’er ye inferrin’ big man? A couple a’ missin’ kids ‘re no businees o’ ours, ‘specially wi’ idjit parents lik tha’. T’aint seen no dwarven tykes runnin’ around wi’ demonic cults lately, have ye?” Olgar asked.
“I think the missing girl, and maybe th’ others, are related to Farmer Ted,” Wodyn explained. “That’s where our interest comes in. We don’t know if we killed him, or he escaped.”
“Aye, best not t’ leave an enemy behind ye,” Olgar agreed. “But ‘m still not convinced. Show me a direct connection, an’ I’ll help ye, but without, yer on yer own. None o’ out business, I still say.”
Wodyn looked to Nelum. “Is there a place that keeps birth records in this town?” he asked.
Neelum nodded. “The temple of Veriday.”
“Then let’s look there.”
They trooped across town to the Temple of Veriday, a soaring electric blue and white structure on the north side of town. After a few minutes negotiating with the acolyte on duty, they were escorted in to the room of records, and shown a slim book bearing the name “Gentry”.
“Here’s Farmer Ted …” Wodyn said. “Says here Zachariah Lightbringer and Noir Rutherford are adopted grandchildren of Farmer Ted.”
“Noir Rutherford is the druid you had problems with last week,” Nelum said. Olgar looked up at him.
“Aye, that’d be explaining it. Iff’n there’s one bad apple in th’ basket, there’s bound t’ be more. Like as not ol’ Farmer Ted came back, ‘n was corruptin’ ‘is grand kids. Th’ druid attacked us once, and we heard this Zach kid was involved wi’ this demon worshipin’. Bet both o’ them went bad. Explains tha’ druid actin’ all weird t’ord us ‘n all.”
Olgar looked at the records. “Look ‘ere, only one survived outta each generation, but even th’ oldest taint listed as dyin’. So either t’ records ‘re shoddy, ‘er there’s a lich in t’ family.”
Wodyn located the acolyte. “Is there a Gentry house in town?” he asked politely. The acolyte reflected a moment, then gave them directions to the Gentry mansion, which lay in the woods outside of town. It had supposedly bee abandoned for decades.
“I bet the missing kids are at the mansion, working on something demonic,” Wodyn said. “I’ll warn the woman that she may be in danger, then we’ll head out there and investigate. I think we should warn the druid. Farmer Ted might be there, too.”
“Are ye daft, man?” Olgar asked. “By all evidence t’ druid’s knee deep in this! I’ll go wi’ ye, iff’n only t’ spoke Farmer Ted’s wheel. But we goes in th’ mornin’, so I kin better prepare me spells.” Nelum nodded in agreement.
“Then it’s settled,” Wodyn said. “Tomorrow we go investigate the Gentry house.”
The headed back to the temple, to rest and prepare for the next day. During the night, Olgar was restless. He went to the window, and noticed a human form below, watching the temple. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t identify the man at this distance. Th’ druid, he thought, spyin’ on us? I’ll take care o’ him! Olgar whispered an incantation, which fizzled. The figure below turned and walked away. Ah, well, we’ll see ‘im again soon enough, I reckon.
The party stayed at the Temple of Kraig in Aerolite City for a relatively uneventful week. Alton was still off on his spirit quest, and had not returned, and the group had decided to wait a while longer for him. Streith mumbled something about a vision, and wandered off, vowing to return. Belarn spent the week wandering about town, gathering information, and spying on a halfling-run bookshop in the market district. Nelum spent most of his time in his room, mumbling incantations over the many yet-to-be identified magic items that they had recovered during their adventures. Wodyn wandered about the woods, doing some hunting and communing with the squirrels. Olgar spent a lot of time praying – brawling – in the common room, but did take time out to scribe a few scrolls that he had been meaning to work on. He discovered that by the end of the week Kraig had favored him, and he could cast even greater divine incantations.
He was demonstrating his newly discovered hold halfling spell to Belarn one morning in the common room when Wodyn strode in from the woods, looking torn and bloodied.
“Wha’ happened t’ you, man?” Olgar asked.
“I was attacked by some kind of fiendish boars in the woods,” the barbarian replied. “They were tough – I had to retreat to survive.”
“Think it was th’ work o’ tha’ druid we irritated las’ week?” Olgar asked.
“Probably. Didn’t see anyone around,” Wodyn shrugged, and sat down.
Nelum came downstairs, then, the pile of equipment in his arms. He had finished identifying all the items. Yuusdrail was sporting the black-and-red robes of Moloch.
“Wha’s she wearing those fer?” Olgar demanded. “We’ve not divided th’ treasure yet! Them’s our magic!” Yuusdrail passed Olgar the curing wand, and he hushed his protests.
After a bit of haggling, the party came to a consensus. Nelum would receive the protective earrings of natural armor and cloak of resistance, to be considered a permanent retainer for the use of his services in the future. Yuusdrail kept the robes, Olgar the wand, and Belarn received a potion of invisibility and a set of pipes of the sewers. They divided up the magical flaming torches equally. They decided to pool the remaining items, the holy symbol of Moloch and the magical sickle, until they could sell them and divide up the profits. Aerolite City was too small to have much of a market for such powerful items, so that would mean a trip to a larger city.
They had just resolved to make the trip the next day when the sounds of screaming came from the street outside. The group rushed out on the front steps of the temple, drawing weapons.
A local woman was running toward the temple, a look of abject horror on her face. Chasing her was a squat, whitish, blubbery humanoid, that stood about three feet tall.
“Cousin a’ yers?” Olgar smirked at Belarn, but Nelum shouted out “It’s a DEMON!”
The woman ran behind them, gasping, and fainted. The thing made a series of rumbling, burbling, screeching noises. Nelum’s eyes brightened, and he said “It said: ‘You summoned me, I have come for my payment! Give her to me!’”
“That tears it,” Olgar said, “Iff’n she made a deal with a demon, i’s no business o’ ours, let it have ‘er. Ye deals wi’ demons, ye suffered the consequences.”
The creature stopped advancing, and burbled at Nelum. Nelum burbled back, then translated “It says she is of the bloodline, and must be taken.”
“We’ll see about that,” Wodyn said, and stepped off of the temple steps, drawing his greataxe. With one powerful; overhand swing, he crushed the thing to babbling goo. He turned around and looked helplessly at Nelum. “I thought you said this was a demon. Aren’t demons supposed to be tough?”
Nelum shrugged. “It’s just a little demon,” he explained, “they mostly run errands.”
“Aye, an’ we’ll ha’ nae truck wi’ demonic errands,” Olgar protested. “Thi’ town’s goin’ t’ ‘ell in a ‘andbasket. Entirely too much weird stuff goin’ on fer me likin’. Best we’re off t’ other parts. Leave th’ wench – she made ‘er bed, let ‘er lie in it.”
Wodyn was already helping the woman to her feet, though. “You saved me!” she said, once she’d been steadied. “I don’t know where it came from! I was just burning some terrible books Sarah had, and …”
“You’d better begin at the beginning,” Wodyn said, sitting her down. Olgar rolled his eyes, but stowed his weapons and leaned in to listen.
“Well, about a week ago some of my daughter Sarah’s friends began to disappear. They had been acting really strangely, going out in the dead of night, but I didn’t think much of it. First Zachariah Lightbringer disappeared, then the twins Brandon and Brenda. Then yesterday, Sarah didn’t come home from the market. I was worried, so this morning I searched her room. I found some sort of evil, demonic books. I threw them into the fire, and that’s when that thing appeared.”
”What kind of parent ye call yerself, lettin’ yer daughter get caught up wi’ a demonic cult,“ Olgar said accusingly. The woman just gaped at him.
“The thing mentioned bloodlines,” Wodyn continued, and then had an inspiration, “are you related to the Gentries?”
“Yes,” she said, “Distantly. Zachariah was part of the family.”
The others looked at Wodyn, who was letting the woman go, asking her to return to her home. “What’er ye inferrin’ big man? A couple a’ missin’ kids ‘re no businees o’ ours, ‘specially wi’ idjit parents lik tha’. T’aint seen no dwarven tykes runnin’ around wi’ demonic cults lately, have ye?” Olgar asked.
“I think the missing girl, and maybe th’ others, are related to Farmer Ted,” Wodyn explained. “That’s where our interest comes in. We don’t know if we killed him, or he escaped.”
“Aye, best not t’ leave an enemy behind ye,” Olgar agreed. “But ‘m still not convinced. Show me a direct connection, an’ I’ll help ye, but without, yer on yer own. None o’ out business, I still say.”
Wodyn looked to Nelum. “Is there a place that keeps birth records in this town?” he asked.
Neelum nodded. “The temple of Veriday.”
“Then let’s look there.”
They trooped across town to the Temple of Veriday, a soaring electric blue and white structure on the north side of town. After a few minutes negotiating with the acolyte on duty, they were escorted in to the room of records, and shown a slim book bearing the name “Gentry”.
“Here’s Farmer Ted …” Wodyn said. “Says here Zachariah Lightbringer and Noir Rutherford are adopted grandchildren of Farmer Ted.”
“Noir Rutherford is the druid you had problems with last week,” Nelum said. Olgar looked up at him.
“Aye, that’d be explaining it. Iff’n there’s one bad apple in th’ basket, there’s bound t’ be more. Like as not ol’ Farmer Ted came back, ‘n was corruptin’ ‘is grand kids. Th’ druid attacked us once, and we heard this Zach kid was involved wi’ this demon worshipin’. Bet both o’ them went bad. Explains tha’ druid actin’ all weird t’ord us ‘n all.”
Olgar looked at the records. “Look ‘ere, only one survived outta each generation, but even th’ oldest taint listed as dyin’. So either t’ records ‘re shoddy, ‘er there’s a lich in t’ family.”
Wodyn located the acolyte. “Is there a Gentry house in town?” he asked politely. The acolyte reflected a moment, then gave them directions to the Gentry mansion, which lay in the woods outside of town. It had supposedly bee abandoned for decades.
“I bet the missing kids are at the mansion, working on something demonic,” Wodyn said. “I’ll warn the woman that she may be in danger, then we’ll head out there and investigate. I think we should warn the druid. Farmer Ted might be there, too.”
“Are ye daft, man?” Olgar asked. “By all evidence t’ druid’s knee deep in this! I’ll go wi’ ye, iff’n only t’ spoke Farmer Ted’s wheel. But we goes in th’ mornin’, so I kin better prepare me spells.” Nelum nodded in agreement.
“Then it’s settled,” Wodyn said. “Tomorrow we go investigate the Gentry house.”
The headed back to the temple, to rest and prepare for the next day. During the night, Olgar was restless. He went to the window, and noticed a human form below, watching the temple. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t identify the man at this distance. Th’ druid, he thought, spyin’ on us? I’ll take care o’ him! Olgar whispered an incantation, which fizzled. The figure below turned and walked away. Ah, well, we’ll see ‘im again soon enough, I reckon.
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
Chpt 3, cont.
The next morning, spells and equipment prepared, the group headed out the north road into the forest to find the Gentry mansion. They had gone about a mile when they head the sounds of growling and shouting from the woods to their right. Curious, they entered the woods.
Well, what’d ye know. It’s Siegfried! The druid of the white tiger stood at the middle of a clearing, being menaced by a boar and a snake. Both creatures had an unearthly air about them. The man was shouting at the animals:
“No, no! You have to listen to me! I called you! Stop that!”
“That looks like one of the board that attacked me the other day!” Wodyn said, and drawing his axe, he charged the creature. Belarn launched an arrow at the beast, while Nelum hid behind Olgar.
Olgar was torn. Th’ druid already attacked us once. This may be a trick. He said ‘e summoned th’ creatures, an’ they attacked Wodyn yesterday. Wodyn’s a do-gooder, ‘e’ll ‘elp anyone who’s in a bind. ‘e may not see wha’ I think’s comin. Th’ enemy o’ me enemy … is likely still me enemy. Best not t’ leave live enemy behind ye, da’ used t’ say. Olgar made up his mind, and charged forward.
Wodyn had successfully slain the boar with the help of Belarn’s arrows. The druid stepped back toward Wodyn, the snake following. The man had been bitten at least once, and was visibly weakened. He muttered some incantations, casting a spell which Olgar did not recognize, and then said “Stop” weakly, to no one in particular.
Olgar ran the man through with his sword.
Belarn dispatched the snake with another well-placed arrow, as Wodyn lowered his axe.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” he screamed at the dwarf.
“Tha’ man’s not t’ be trusted – ‘e attacked us once before, an’ probably summoned those creatures. I think ‘twas a setup,” Olgar responded.
“He was being attacked by fiendish beasts!” Wodyn went on, “He needed our help! Killing him didn’t solve anything!”
“Well, by yer earlier logic, ‘e may o’ gone bad like ‘is grandfather. We may o’ prevented a problem down th’ road. An’ ‘e was already a demonstrated enemy. I’d not be waitin’ fer ‘im t’ stab us in th’ back later.” The dwarf shook his head. “We’ll likely find evidence when we gets t’ the mansion.”
Wodyn shook his head. “No. We’re going back to town. We must atone for this mistake. We must get this man raised.”
“Are ye daft, man? Where d’ye think ye’ll be getting ‘im raised? ‘N how’re we t’ be payin’ fer it? Kraig guided me sword, ‘n this one failed ‘is trial by combat. ‘E was guilty, I tell you.”
Nelum was busy looting the man’s body. He stood up, waving a wand around. “There’s one person in town that could probably raise this man,” he said, “and we could trade this to pay for it. It’s an unclean thing.”
Wodyn grabbed the wand from the man. It was a length of polished wood, carved with representations of animals all along its length. “We’ll go back and ask the high priest of Moloch to raise this man,” Wodyn insisted adamantly.
“Have ye lost yer mind, man?” Olgar asked incredulously, “ye weren’t too happy about workin’ fer tha’ priest before, ‘n now ye wants t’ go ask him this big favor, ‘n go raise this tiger-fancyin’ Siegfried? Ye take a blow t’ the ‘ead I didn’t see?”
“Yes,” Wodyn said flatly, gathering up the body and whistling for his mount.
“Well, think o’ this then,” Olgar persuaded, “we go on t’ th’ house, an’ iff’n we find evidence tha’ he’s innocent, we get ‘im raised. But if not, ye’ll not have t’ bow ‘n scrape t’ th’ priest o’ Moloch, an’ we kin leave ‘im dead.”
“We’ll ask him to speak with the dead first,” Wodyn said, “and that settles it.” He loaded the body into the back of his elk, and the group set off for town. Olgar drug his feet in protest the entire way.
Oh, don’ mind us, local townsfolk, Olgar thought as they walked the cobblestone streets to the church of Moloch, nothin’ t’ see ‘ere. We’re jus’ deliverin’ a body t’ the church o’ undeath. Ye’ll see ‘im again in a few days, walkin’ around as a zombie! Wodyn’s bein’ a foll, ‘e is. Even ‘twere it a mistake, me killin’ th’ man, taint no reason t’ be doublin’ it by deliverin’ th’ bodies t’ that lot.
They reached the church, and the high priest smiled when Wodyn explained his dilemma. The man in the black robes ushered them inside, having them lay the body on the altar. The priest scurried away, then came back later with a scroll.
“And what is this worth to you?” the priest asked Wodyn.
“Well, we found this on a dead body in our travels,” Wodyn said, taking out the holy symbol of Moloch that they had taken from the priest back in Aurora Falls. “We suspect it belongs to you. Consider its return payment for speaking with this man’s spirit.”
The priest looked suspicious. “Where did you say you got this?” he asked.
“Ah, we found it on a dead body in an underground temple in a nearby village,” Wodyn said. “The body was wearing robes like yours.”
Th’ big man’s a lousy liar, Olgar thought, I outta just say ‘Aye yer worship, we took it after th’ big man here axed yer predecessor’ an’ be done wit’ it. But he remained silent.
The priest finally accepted the holy symbol, and began the an incantation from the scroll. The ghostly image of a young girl appeared above the druid’s body, intoning “You have eight questions.”
Wodyn took charge. “Are you the spirit of this man?” he asked.
“No.” the child-ghost replied.
“Do you speak for him?”
“Yes.”
“Does he wish to be returned to the living?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It is an abomination, a violation of the circle of life.”
Guess we won’t be doin’ any tradin’ after all, Olgar thought smugly.
Wodyn continued. “Is this man responsible for the infernal beasts in the forest?”
“No,” the spirit replied.
“Is he related to Old Man Gentry?”
“Yes.”
“Is the Gentry bloodline responsible for the problems?”
“Yes, and no.”
Is Wodyn a big nancy-boy? Olgar thought, and suppressed a giggle.
“Last question,” Nelum warned.
“Where is the source of the evil?” Wodyn asked finally.
“The center of the forest,” the spirit replied. It nodded toward the high priest, saying “I’ll see you later,” and disappeared.
“See, Olgar,” Wodyn said, “there’s nothing at the house that’s responsible. The evil is in the forest. I’ll bet the druid was trying to stop it. We must go purge the forest of this evil.” He turned to the priest. “Thank you for your assistance. Well take the body to give it a proper burial.”
“No, we can handle that for you,” the priest replied. Wodyn tried to stare the man down, but backed down himself. The group departed empty-handed.
“Well, we’ll be seein’ that body again,” Olgar said cheerfully, once they were outside.
“Shut up,” Wodyn replied. “We’re going back to the forest. Now.”
The next morning, spells and equipment prepared, the group headed out the north road into the forest to find the Gentry mansion. They had gone about a mile when they head the sounds of growling and shouting from the woods to their right. Curious, they entered the woods.
Well, what’d ye know. It’s Siegfried! The druid of the white tiger stood at the middle of a clearing, being menaced by a boar and a snake. Both creatures had an unearthly air about them. The man was shouting at the animals:
“No, no! You have to listen to me! I called you! Stop that!”
“That looks like one of the board that attacked me the other day!” Wodyn said, and drawing his axe, he charged the creature. Belarn launched an arrow at the beast, while Nelum hid behind Olgar.
Olgar was torn. Th’ druid already attacked us once. This may be a trick. He said ‘e summoned th’ creatures, an’ they attacked Wodyn yesterday. Wodyn’s a do-gooder, ‘e’ll ‘elp anyone who’s in a bind. ‘e may not see wha’ I think’s comin. Th’ enemy o’ me enemy … is likely still me enemy. Best not t’ leave live enemy behind ye, da’ used t’ say. Olgar made up his mind, and charged forward.
Wodyn had successfully slain the boar with the help of Belarn’s arrows. The druid stepped back toward Wodyn, the snake following. The man had been bitten at least once, and was visibly weakened. He muttered some incantations, casting a spell which Olgar did not recognize, and then said “Stop” weakly, to no one in particular.
Olgar ran the man through with his sword.
Belarn dispatched the snake with another well-placed arrow, as Wodyn lowered his axe.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” he screamed at the dwarf.
“Tha’ man’s not t’ be trusted – ‘e attacked us once before, an’ probably summoned those creatures. I think ‘twas a setup,” Olgar responded.
“He was being attacked by fiendish beasts!” Wodyn went on, “He needed our help! Killing him didn’t solve anything!”
“Well, by yer earlier logic, ‘e may o’ gone bad like ‘is grandfather. We may o’ prevented a problem down th’ road. An’ ‘e was already a demonstrated enemy. I’d not be waitin’ fer ‘im t’ stab us in th’ back later.” The dwarf shook his head. “We’ll likely find evidence when we gets t’ the mansion.”
Wodyn shook his head. “No. We’re going back to town. We must atone for this mistake. We must get this man raised.”
“Are ye daft, man? Where d’ye think ye’ll be getting ‘im raised? ‘N how’re we t’ be payin’ fer it? Kraig guided me sword, ‘n this one failed ‘is trial by combat. ‘E was guilty, I tell you.”
Nelum was busy looting the man’s body. He stood up, waving a wand around. “There’s one person in town that could probably raise this man,” he said, “and we could trade this to pay for it. It’s an unclean thing.”
Wodyn grabbed the wand from the man. It was a length of polished wood, carved with representations of animals all along its length. “We’ll go back and ask the high priest of Moloch to raise this man,” Wodyn insisted adamantly.
“Have ye lost yer mind, man?” Olgar asked incredulously, “ye weren’t too happy about workin’ fer tha’ priest before, ‘n now ye wants t’ go ask him this big favor, ‘n go raise this tiger-fancyin’ Siegfried? Ye take a blow t’ the ‘ead I didn’t see?”
“Yes,” Wodyn said flatly, gathering up the body and whistling for his mount.
“Well, think o’ this then,” Olgar persuaded, “we go on t’ th’ house, an’ iff’n we find evidence tha’ he’s innocent, we get ‘im raised. But if not, ye’ll not have t’ bow ‘n scrape t’ th’ priest o’ Moloch, an’ we kin leave ‘im dead.”
“We’ll ask him to speak with the dead first,” Wodyn said, “and that settles it.” He loaded the body into the back of his elk, and the group set off for town. Olgar drug his feet in protest the entire way.
Oh, don’ mind us, local townsfolk, Olgar thought as they walked the cobblestone streets to the church of Moloch, nothin’ t’ see ‘ere. We’re jus’ deliverin’ a body t’ the church o’ undeath. Ye’ll see ‘im again in a few days, walkin’ around as a zombie! Wodyn’s bein’ a foll, ‘e is. Even ‘twere it a mistake, me killin’ th’ man, taint no reason t’ be doublin’ it by deliverin’ th’ bodies t’ that lot.
They reached the church, and the high priest smiled when Wodyn explained his dilemma. The man in the black robes ushered them inside, having them lay the body on the altar. The priest scurried away, then came back later with a scroll.
“And what is this worth to you?” the priest asked Wodyn.
“Well, we found this on a dead body in our travels,” Wodyn said, taking out the holy symbol of Moloch that they had taken from the priest back in Aurora Falls. “We suspect it belongs to you. Consider its return payment for speaking with this man’s spirit.”
The priest looked suspicious. “Where did you say you got this?” he asked.
“Ah, we found it on a dead body in an underground temple in a nearby village,” Wodyn said. “The body was wearing robes like yours.”
Th’ big man’s a lousy liar, Olgar thought, I outta just say ‘Aye yer worship, we took it after th’ big man here axed yer predecessor’ an’ be done wit’ it. But he remained silent.
The priest finally accepted the holy symbol, and began the an incantation from the scroll. The ghostly image of a young girl appeared above the druid’s body, intoning “You have eight questions.”
Wodyn took charge. “Are you the spirit of this man?” he asked.
“No.” the child-ghost replied.
“Do you speak for him?”
“Yes.”
“Does he wish to be returned to the living?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It is an abomination, a violation of the circle of life.”
Guess we won’t be doin’ any tradin’ after all, Olgar thought smugly.
Wodyn continued. “Is this man responsible for the infernal beasts in the forest?”
“No,” the spirit replied.
“Is he related to Old Man Gentry?”
“Yes.”
“Is the Gentry bloodline responsible for the problems?”
“Yes, and no.”
Is Wodyn a big nancy-boy? Olgar thought, and suppressed a giggle.
“Last question,” Nelum warned.
“Where is the source of the evil?” Wodyn asked finally.
“The center of the forest,” the spirit replied. It nodded toward the high priest, saying “I’ll see you later,” and disappeared.
“See, Olgar,” Wodyn said, “there’s nothing at the house that’s responsible. The evil is in the forest. I’ll bet the druid was trying to stop it. We must go purge the forest of this evil.” He turned to the priest. “Thank you for your assistance. Well take the body to give it a proper burial.”
“No, we can handle that for you,” the priest replied. Wodyn tried to stare the man down, but backed down himself. The group departed empty-handed.
“Well, we’ll be seein’ that body again,” Olgar said cheerfully, once they were outside.
“Shut up,” Wodyn replied. “We’re going back to the forest. Now.”
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
Chpt 3, cont.
They gathered their belongings and headed back out toward the “center of the forest”, looking for the source of the evil. Very soon, they arrived at a clearing at the very heart of the wooded area.
The clearing was dominated by a two-story stone and wood mansion, with a short turret extending up from the read of the house. The house was boarded up and looked deserted. The front garden was overgrown, and had obviously been left to grow wind a long time before. The remains of a well could be see to the left of the path leading up to the front doors.
“Guess we’re going to the house after all,” Olgar smirked, “Spirit’s kinda sneaky tha’ way.”
Wodyn shrugged, and walked over to examine the well. As he did so, a shadowy black figure rose up from its depths, a ghostly black appendage reaching out to slash at the barbarian.
Wodyn’s reaction was immediate. His greataxe leapt into his hand, and he slashed through the thing. The mysterious creature dissipated.
Olgar walked up and looked down the well, but no more shadowy forms appeared. He contented himself with examining the stonework – not dwarven quality, certainly, but not bad. The construction was at least 200 years old. Nothing else revealed itself at the well – no secret passages below, or anything else of note. Olgar turned toward the house.
Meanwhile, Belarn and Nelum had walked around the building, and were just returning.
“No other entrances,” Belarn reported. “There is a cemetery out back. It’s got a big crypt or mausoleum at the center of it. Most of the rest of it is overgrown, but I did see some headstones that read ‘Gentry’.”
“We’re a’ th’ right place, then,” Olgar concluded. “House ‘r crypt, which’ll it be? Y’know th’ worst evil stuff’s likely t’ be in th’ crypt, o’course.”
“House,” Wodyn concluded. “There’s tracks on the ground here, four sets, human, and one set, kind of like a kobold.” He conferred briefly with Yuusdrail in her language, but did not translate for the rest.
They headed up to the front door. Belarn checked it for hidden booby traps, and pronouncing it safe, they pushed it open. It creaked slowly, revealing a dim hallway that headed north, ending in an archway that led to another hallway beyond. Doors on the east and west walls led to other rooms.
They selected the western door, and entered a room that had once been a dining room. In the dim light they could make out a large, dusty dining table. Busts, portraits, and murals were arranged around the room, showing the activities of various men. No two were the same, but all had a family resemblance.
“Look a bit like Farmer Ted, don’t they,” Nelum observed. The others nodded. They proceeded into the room beyond, a kitchen. This room showed some signs of recent use – it was not so dusty.
“Looks like our four missing kids are probably here,” Wodyn said, “between the tracks and the activity here.”
“Aye, we jus’ have t’ find ‘em ‘n stop whate’r they’re up t’.” Olgar agreed.
They went back to the east, crossing the entrance hall, and entered a large musty room. Bookcases lined all four walls, from floor to ceiling, and two ladders were placed against the cases, allowing access to the upper shelves. Nelum’s eyes lit up, and he began examining the books on the shelves.
“Lots of works on dark magic, old religions, dark gods. All of it mundane,” he said with disappointment after a few minutes searching. “One book is odd, though. A book about the good realm of Celestia, on a shelf over there. It looks out of place.”
Belarn went over and took a look at it. Pulling it out cased one of the bookshelves to shift, revealing a passage beyond.
“Aye, now we’re getting’ somewhere!” Olgar said. The others formed up and they entered the passage, which ran north, ending at a door. Beyond the door was a flight of stairs spiraling upward. They followed the stairs to a landing at the top – in the turret at the rear of the house. From the turret they could look out over the overgrown clearing that had once been a lush garden – probably decades before. The turrets floor was covered in dusk, and stacked with bins and boxes, none of which contained anything of interest.
They trooped back down the stairs, Olgar paying more attention to the stonework on the stairway on the return trip. His close observation was rewarded with the discovered of a secret catch in the stone, about halfway down the staircase. After Belarn examined it, Olgar tripped it, causing a section of the south wall of the stairwell to swing away into a short hallway that led to a lighted space beyond.
They walled down the short hallway, to a balcony that overlooked a small greenhouse area that was located in the center of the house. Various plants and vines grew up from the floor about twenty feet below. Light streamed in from a series of skylights about twenty feet overhead. Nothing was moving in the vegetation below, so after a few moments careful observation, they retreated back down the stairs and back to the entrance hall.
“Try the archway, then,” Olgar urged, and they went toward the back of the house.
Beyond the archway was a hallway running east-west. There were two doors in the north wall of the hall, each about ten feet down the hall from the archway to the left and right.
“Right door prob’ly lead t’ th’ garden,” Olgar presumed, “le’s take the left one.”
Belarn stepped up, examining the door, and then opening it as had become their routine.
As the door swung open, a sickly looking hand in decaying garments swung down at the surprised halfling, who was just able to throw himself out of the way.
As the door swung all the way open, Olgar could make out the short figure of a human female, dressed in the clothing of a ladies maid. The maid had clearly been dead for a long time, though, from the stench that arose from the room, and the rotting flesh that peeled slowly off the skeleton beneath. The creature was trying to grad Belarn, so Olgar triggered his crossbow at the thing, firing just over Belarn’s head. The bolt thunked into the creature, spinning it, but not dropping it.
Nelum chanted something from the back of the group, and a bolt of energy soared between them, striking the creature, and dropping it to the floor, where it hissed briefing before going motionless.
“Right,” Olgar said, when it was obvious the thing was dead. “From now on th’ runt checks the door, but th’ big man opens it.”
The others nodded agreement, and examined the room beyond. Partitions divided the room into a number of similar chambers, each with a cot, dresser, and other similar furniture.
“Servant’s quarters, most likely,” Wodyn said, and they exit the room through a door in the western wall. The hallway beyond led north to a flight of curving stairs that led up to the second floor. The group ascended slowly and quietly.
“Second floor, back o’ th’ house,” Olgar whispered when they reached the landing at the top. Iff’n anyone’s here, they’re probably up here.”
A hallway led straight ahead, southward, from the landing. Two other halls branched off to the left. They looked down the first, and saw a series of door lining the north wall.
“Too close t’ th’ back o’ th’ house,” Olgar whispered, “those room’s prob’ly small. Try th’ next hall.”
They crept down the hallway and around the next corner. The hallway dead-ended after a few feet, but there was a door to their left. Belarn checked it, signaled that it was clear, and Wodyn opened it.
Beyond was a study. A large desk dominated the room, and more bookshelves lined the walls. “Books!” Nelum said with glee and walked forward to examine a large volume that was sitting open on the desk.
Olgar rolled his eyes, and remained in the corridor, examining the walls for traces of scret passages. A poofing sound and a crackle of flames from the open door brought him running.
Nelum was standing with the scorched remains of a book in his hands, covered it soot, with nasty red burns over his exposed skin. “Explosive runes,” he coughed, and passed out.
“Aye, serves ye right fer rushin’ ahead,” Olgar said. He drew the curing wand that he had taken as his share of the loot from their last adventures, and waved it over Nelum. The man’s burns glowed briefly, then closed over, leaving behind soft pink skin. Nelum woke, coughing his thanks, and Olgar helped him to his feet. Nelum worked on brushing the soot out of his robes while Belarn and Wodyn searched the room.
“Secret door,” Belarn said from the rear. Wodyn went to help him open it.
“Aye, an’ iff’n there’s anyone there, they likely know we’re comin’” Olgar said. The barbarian pushed the concealed door open, revealing a small chamber beyond. It was filled with odd bottles, tubes, bowls, and other containers, and had a strange smell to it, that of many acrid spices or chemicals.
“This is an alchemical lab,” Nelum said in awe. “Recently used, too. I can probably get some good ingredients for my spells here.”
“Wait on that,” Wodyn said, “Let’s check this door first.” There was an ornately carved door in the eastern wall of the chamber – far fancier than any door they had seen in the house yet. Wodyn pushed it open, and it turned easily on well-oiled hinges.
The space beyond was a brightly lit chamber, about fifteen feet wide and thirty feet long. Torches were set in sconces about ten feet up on either side of the door, and every few feet down the walls, showing the ceiling of the place to be almost thirty feet overhead. Carvings and murals of strange figures, purple-skinned humanoids with strange blank white eyes, and four squid-like tentacles where their mouths should be, lined the walls. There were thirteen of the figures in all. In the flickering light, it looked as if the figures were moving sinuously.
A block of stone about five foot square stood at the end of the chamber, almost thirty feet from where Wodyn stood in the doorway. A young human male stood in front of it, turning to face them. A young girl – the missing Sarah, by her description, was behind him to the left, next to the altar.
The strangest thing in the room was standing, perched, on the altar. Four feet high, it resembled a pudgy, demonic kobold. It was reptilian, black, trimmed with red, with glowing red eyes. Small wings jutted from its back, and it had long, well-sharpened and polished claws.
The young man turned to them, saying: “I believe you were just leaving.”
Yuusdrail slipped between Wodyn’s legs, running up to kneel before the creature on the altar, jabbering in her own language.
“I don’t think so,” Wodyn growled, stepping into the room.
Nelum had crept up past Belarn and Olgar, who stood to either side of the door, and looked around Wodyn’s shoulder.
“DRAGON!” he screamed in fright.
They gathered their belongings and headed back out toward the “center of the forest”, looking for the source of the evil. Very soon, they arrived at a clearing at the very heart of the wooded area.
The clearing was dominated by a two-story stone and wood mansion, with a short turret extending up from the read of the house. The house was boarded up and looked deserted. The front garden was overgrown, and had obviously been left to grow wind a long time before. The remains of a well could be see to the left of the path leading up to the front doors.
“Guess we’re going to the house after all,” Olgar smirked, “Spirit’s kinda sneaky tha’ way.”
Wodyn shrugged, and walked over to examine the well. As he did so, a shadowy black figure rose up from its depths, a ghostly black appendage reaching out to slash at the barbarian.
Wodyn’s reaction was immediate. His greataxe leapt into his hand, and he slashed through the thing. The mysterious creature dissipated.
Olgar walked up and looked down the well, but no more shadowy forms appeared. He contented himself with examining the stonework – not dwarven quality, certainly, but not bad. The construction was at least 200 years old. Nothing else revealed itself at the well – no secret passages below, or anything else of note. Olgar turned toward the house.
Meanwhile, Belarn and Nelum had walked around the building, and were just returning.
“No other entrances,” Belarn reported. “There is a cemetery out back. It’s got a big crypt or mausoleum at the center of it. Most of the rest of it is overgrown, but I did see some headstones that read ‘Gentry’.”
“We’re a’ th’ right place, then,” Olgar concluded. “House ‘r crypt, which’ll it be? Y’know th’ worst evil stuff’s likely t’ be in th’ crypt, o’course.”
“House,” Wodyn concluded. “There’s tracks on the ground here, four sets, human, and one set, kind of like a kobold.” He conferred briefly with Yuusdrail in her language, but did not translate for the rest.
They headed up to the front door. Belarn checked it for hidden booby traps, and pronouncing it safe, they pushed it open. It creaked slowly, revealing a dim hallway that headed north, ending in an archway that led to another hallway beyond. Doors on the east and west walls led to other rooms.
They selected the western door, and entered a room that had once been a dining room. In the dim light they could make out a large, dusty dining table. Busts, portraits, and murals were arranged around the room, showing the activities of various men. No two were the same, but all had a family resemblance.
“Look a bit like Farmer Ted, don’t they,” Nelum observed. The others nodded. They proceeded into the room beyond, a kitchen. This room showed some signs of recent use – it was not so dusty.
“Looks like our four missing kids are probably here,” Wodyn said, “between the tracks and the activity here.”
“Aye, we jus’ have t’ find ‘em ‘n stop whate’r they’re up t’.” Olgar agreed.
They went back to the east, crossing the entrance hall, and entered a large musty room. Bookcases lined all four walls, from floor to ceiling, and two ladders were placed against the cases, allowing access to the upper shelves. Nelum’s eyes lit up, and he began examining the books on the shelves.
“Lots of works on dark magic, old religions, dark gods. All of it mundane,” he said with disappointment after a few minutes searching. “One book is odd, though. A book about the good realm of Celestia, on a shelf over there. It looks out of place.”
Belarn went over and took a look at it. Pulling it out cased one of the bookshelves to shift, revealing a passage beyond.
“Aye, now we’re getting’ somewhere!” Olgar said. The others formed up and they entered the passage, which ran north, ending at a door. Beyond the door was a flight of stairs spiraling upward. They followed the stairs to a landing at the top – in the turret at the rear of the house. From the turret they could look out over the overgrown clearing that had once been a lush garden – probably decades before. The turrets floor was covered in dusk, and stacked with bins and boxes, none of which contained anything of interest.
They trooped back down the stairs, Olgar paying more attention to the stonework on the stairway on the return trip. His close observation was rewarded with the discovered of a secret catch in the stone, about halfway down the staircase. After Belarn examined it, Olgar tripped it, causing a section of the south wall of the stairwell to swing away into a short hallway that led to a lighted space beyond.
They walled down the short hallway, to a balcony that overlooked a small greenhouse area that was located in the center of the house. Various plants and vines grew up from the floor about twenty feet below. Light streamed in from a series of skylights about twenty feet overhead. Nothing was moving in the vegetation below, so after a few moments careful observation, they retreated back down the stairs and back to the entrance hall.
“Try the archway, then,” Olgar urged, and they went toward the back of the house.
Beyond the archway was a hallway running east-west. There were two doors in the north wall of the hall, each about ten feet down the hall from the archway to the left and right.
“Right door prob’ly lead t’ th’ garden,” Olgar presumed, “le’s take the left one.”
Belarn stepped up, examining the door, and then opening it as had become their routine.
As the door swung open, a sickly looking hand in decaying garments swung down at the surprised halfling, who was just able to throw himself out of the way.
As the door swung all the way open, Olgar could make out the short figure of a human female, dressed in the clothing of a ladies maid. The maid had clearly been dead for a long time, though, from the stench that arose from the room, and the rotting flesh that peeled slowly off the skeleton beneath. The creature was trying to grad Belarn, so Olgar triggered his crossbow at the thing, firing just over Belarn’s head. The bolt thunked into the creature, spinning it, but not dropping it.
Nelum chanted something from the back of the group, and a bolt of energy soared between them, striking the creature, and dropping it to the floor, where it hissed briefing before going motionless.
“Right,” Olgar said, when it was obvious the thing was dead. “From now on th’ runt checks the door, but th’ big man opens it.”
The others nodded agreement, and examined the room beyond. Partitions divided the room into a number of similar chambers, each with a cot, dresser, and other similar furniture.
“Servant’s quarters, most likely,” Wodyn said, and they exit the room through a door in the western wall. The hallway beyond led north to a flight of curving stairs that led up to the second floor. The group ascended slowly and quietly.
“Second floor, back o’ th’ house,” Olgar whispered when they reached the landing at the top. Iff’n anyone’s here, they’re probably up here.”
A hallway led straight ahead, southward, from the landing. Two other halls branched off to the left. They looked down the first, and saw a series of door lining the north wall.
“Too close t’ th’ back o’ th’ house,” Olgar whispered, “those room’s prob’ly small. Try th’ next hall.”
They crept down the hallway and around the next corner. The hallway dead-ended after a few feet, but there was a door to their left. Belarn checked it, signaled that it was clear, and Wodyn opened it.
Beyond was a study. A large desk dominated the room, and more bookshelves lined the walls. “Books!” Nelum said with glee and walked forward to examine a large volume that was sitting open on the desk.
Olgar rolled his eyes, and remained in the corridor, examining the walls for traces of scret passages. A poofing sound and a crackle of flames from the open door brought him running.
Nelum was standing with the scorched remains of a book in his hands, covered it soot, with nasty red burns over his exposed skin. “Explosive runes,” he coughed, and passed out.
“Aye, serves ye right fer rushin’ ahead,” Olgar said. He drew the curing wand that he had taken as his share of the loot from their last adventures, and waved it over Nelum. The man’s burns glowed briefly, then closed over, leaving behind soft pink skin. Nelum woke, coughing his thanks, and Olgar helped him to his feet. Nelum worked on brushing the soot out of his robes while Belarn and Wodyn searched the room.
“Secret door,” Belarn said from the rear. Wodyn went to help him open it.
“Aye, an’ iff’n there’s anyone there, they likely know we’re comin’” Olgar said. The barbarian pushed the concealed door open, revealing a small chamber beyond. It was filled with odd bottles, tubes, bowls, and other containers, and had a strange smell to it, that of many acrid spices or chemicals.
“This is an alchemical lab,” Nelum said in awe. “Recently used, too. I can probably get some good ingredients for my spells here.”
“Wait on that,” Wodyn said, “Let’s check this door first.” There was an ornately carved door in the eastern wall of the chamber – far fancier than any door they had seen in the house yet. Wodyn pushed it open, and it turned easily on well-oiled hinges.
The space beyond was a brightly lit chamber, about fifteen feet wide and thirty feet long. Torches were set in sconces about ten feet up on either side of the door, and every few feet down the walls, showing the ceiling of the place to be almost thirty feet overhead. Carvings and murals of strange figures, purple-skinned humanoids with strange blank white eyes, and four squid-like tentacles where their mouths should be, lined the walls. There were thirteen of the figures in all. In the flickering light, it looked as if the figures were moving sinuously.
A block of stone about five foot square stood at the end of the chamber, almost thirty feet from where Wodyn stood in the doorway. A young human male stood in front of it, turning to face them. A young girl – the missing Sarah, by her description, was behind him to the left, next to the altar.
The strangest thing in the room was standing, perched, on the altar. Four feet high, it resembled a pudgy, demonic kobold. It was reptilian, black, trimmed with red, with glowing red eyes. Small wings jutted from its back, and it had long, well-sharpened and polished claws.
The young man turned to them, saying: “I believe you were just leaving.”
Yuusdrail slipped between Wodyn’s legs, running up to kneel before the creature on the altar, jabbering in her own language.
“I don’t think so,” Wodyn growled, stepping into the room.
Nelum had crept up past Belarn and Olgar, who stood to either side of the door, and looked around Wodyn’s shoulder.
“DRAGON!” he screamed in fright.
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
Chpt 3, finis.
Kraig! Olgar thought, now this’ll be a fight!
The black creature’s wings began to flap, and it lifted off the altar and began to fly toward the center of the room, gaining height with each motion of its small but obviously powerful wings. Hovering in the center of the room, it spat a glob of spittle toward the doorway.
Wodyn dodged aside, catching only a little of the acidic spittle on the outer portions of his armor. Nelum was caught completely by surprise, and the acidic substance splashed across his chest. He staggered, obviously hurt, but regained his composure and began to chant an incantation, spreading his hands in front of him.
The tall young man by the altar and the young lady behind him both began to intone their own incantations, making arcane gestures with their hands.
Nelum completed his spell first. A stream of liquid energy, shifting in color through all the rainbow hues, spouted forth from his hands and splashed the length of the chamber. The young man continued his spell, but the woman was stunned by the impact of the energy, and did not finish her spell.
Belarn darted behind Nelum, firing an arrow from his bow at the tiny dragon. He hit, scratching it, and succeeding in enraging it even more.
Olgar dived past Nelum, dodging through the doorway and rolling into one corner of the room. There he cast a spell of his own. Calling on the divine might of Kraig, he caused an image of Kraig’s Blessing, the great flaming sword of the god, to materialize in front of the dragon. The sword attacked with a fury.
Outta keep th’ little bugger busy! Olgar thought.
Recovering from his dodge of the dragon’s spit, Wodyn charged forward, breaking his axe down into his two component pieces as his did so. His target was the you man, who had just completed his own incantation. Black shards of arcane armor sprang into being about the young man. Wodyn just roared and slashed at his with a hand axe, causing blood to go spurting across the altar. A gaping slash wound ran down one of the man’s arms, but the man did not appear to weaken.
Suddenly, the entire room went black, as if all of the torches were instantly extinguished and night had suddenly fallen. Even Olgar’s dwarf sight failed him. He was virtually blind. He could hear Belarn’s bow thrum as the halfling launched another arrow, and heard the arrow skip off the stone walls. Nelum mumbled incantations behind him, sending a bright bolt of energy up into the room to collide with an unseen form.
At least I ain’ blinded, Olgar thought. Tha’s magical darkness.
In front of him, a small light appeared at floor level, just enough to illuminate the young man, the altar, and Wodyn, who was retrieving one of his hand axes. Wodyn had apparently managed to fish one of the magical lights they had taken from the ancient temple out of his pouch. The magical flame did not banish all of the darkness, but it was enough to give Olgar a target. He chanted another incantation, and pointed his fist at the man in front of the altar, who was casting another spell. The man went suddenly rigid, his incantation ceasing.
Gotcha! Olgar thought, a feral grin coming to his lips. He drew Stonecleaver from the sheath at his back, and began to move up behind Wodyn, feeling his way in the dark.
Olgar heard the beating of wings as something flew by him, then heard the screech of the dragon as Wodyn cried out in pain. At the rear of the room, Nelum whispered another incantation, which ended in a brief flicker of light that was suddenly extinguished. The next sound was that of the door slamming.
Not lookin’ good fer us! Olgar thought. Then Wodyn stepped back into the small circle of light, bringing both his axes down on the frozen man. The man collapsed the the floor, his lifeblood draining from two enormous rents in his body. One down, two t’ go!
Suddenly, claws raked over Olgar’s back. They didn’t penetrate his mail, but clearly the dragon wyrmling had managed to locate him somehow in the darkness. Time t’ do summat about that! Olgar thought. He cleared his mind, and focused his thoughts on Kraig’s temple. A soft red glow enveloped him, and he knew that he was safe in Kraig’s blessing, unless their opponents should break through his divine protection. He began casting another spell, one that would increase his strength so that he could rain down crushing blows upon his opponents.
Wodyn, meanwhile, was laying about in the dark with his axes, attempting to find the dragon. Every now and again a claw would lash out from the darkness and strike the man, then be gone before Wodyn could react. The barbarian was already bleeding from a number of small wounds.
His spells complete, Olgar lashed out at where the creature should be after he saw its shadow against the one small light in the darkness. He landed a light blow, not enough to wound, but enough that he knew where the beast was. He was rewarded by a splash of acid that burned down into his armor. He would have cried out in pain, but his rage was building, and he was solely focused on bringing down that reptilian creature of darkness. He barely noticed as the young woman pushed passed him, opening the door behind him. The door’s opening was immediately followed by the “thwack” of a crossbow firing.
Olgar drew another bead on where he though the dragon was, and lashed out at it. His blow didn’t connect, but it forced the creature back into Wodyn, who was able to wound it with his axe. The wyrmling screamed again, and attempted to flee, but as it tried to fly past Wodyn, he swung again with his axe, crashing the blade into the back of the creature’s neck. The darkness vanished, and the dragon fell dead to the temple floor.
With man and dragon both dead or dying, Wodyn and Olgar rushed back toward the entrance to the room, where the young woman stood in a stand off with Nelum – she with her quarterstaff, the mage with a crossbow. Yuusdrail wailed in sorrow behind them, throwing herself onto the corpse of the dragon.
“Stop,” the woman demanded, “or I’ll kill him!” She thumped the mage with her staff for good measure.
“Doubt it!” Olgar growled, and swung his sword, which glanced off of some invisible shield that she had erected around her.
“Wait!” Wodyn said. “We will take your surrender!”
The woman turned to Wodyn and spoke in a language Olgar did not understand. Wodyn responded in kind. The woman lowered her weapon, and continued to converse with Wodyn, who had likewise lowered his weapon.
“Wha’s she sayin?” Olgar growled, his sword still at the ready, rage burning inside him. He longer to reach out and destroy this final enemy, but loyalty to Wodyn held him in check.
Wodyn’s conversation continued for a moment longer, and then he spoke to Olgar and the others. “This is Sarah. I’ve given her safe passage. She was held against her will by the others here.”
”Wha’?” Olgar asked incredulously, “Yer just gonna let ‘er go? Wha’ about th’ spells she was castin’?”
“Spells of protection,” the girl replied, “I foresaw your coming. I have a talent for that. That’s why Zachariah wanted me, so I could assist him in bringing about his prophecy.”
“Wha’ prophecy, wha’ are you talkin’ about?” Olgar demanded.
“The end of the world; the remaking of the world,” the girl explained. “Zachariah’s ancestor had one of the seven stones that would bring about the end of the world. There is an active gate to the Abyss in the crypt in the cemetery. Zachariah was bringing through demonic allies, like this demon wrymling, to help him find the other stones. Those, plus the death of his brother, would seal open the gate and bring about the end of the world, and bring back the Old Gods, the ones represented in this temple.”
“The mind flayers,” Nelum said, and the girl nodded.
“I must go now,” she continued, “to find Noir, and make sure he is safe. His death starts the prophecy.”
“Er …” Olgar began, then thought better of it. Guess we need’nt share tha’ little detail.
“Go,” Wodyn said. “We will see to the gate.” The girl departed. Belarn was already searching the temple, and Nelum pulled a dagger and a bag of coin from the body of the Zachariah.
“Check these for magic?” Nelum asked Olgar, and Olgar muttered a brief prayer. There was a hint of necromancy about the dagger, and he detected another aura about the altar, which Belarn was examining closely.
“Aha!” Belarn exclaimed. There was a ‘click’, and the halfling dove into a small recess that opened in the altar. A few moments later he emerged with a bag of coin, a gem studded necklace, and a scroll case. Both the necklace and the scroll gave auras of magic.
“We’d best get to the crypt,” Wodyn said.
“Nae, we’d best see t’ healin’ up, getting’ rest, an’ recovering some spells,” Olgar disagreed. He, Wodyn, and Nelum were all cut, bruised, or suffering from the effects of the dragon’s acid breath. Wodyn was starting to show the effects of shock. Olgar took out his curing wand, and gave each of the three a brief treatment.
Kraig fergive me fer actin’ th’ healer, he thought, but ‘twas a good fight. An’ tis glorious defatin’ a dragon, even one ‘tis only a wyrmling.
Wodyn reluctantly agreed, and after a brief search of the rest of the house, where they found nothing of note, the party went out into the woods to camp and prepare for the next day’s assault. In the morning they would enter the Gentry’s family crypt.
Kraig! Olgar thought, now this’ll be a fight!
The black creature’s wings began to flap, and it lifted off the altar and began to fly toward the center of the room, gaining height with each motion of its small but obviously powerful wings. Hovering in the center of the room, it spat a glob of spittle toward the doorway.
Wodyn dodged aside, catching only a little of the acidic spittle on the outer portions of his armor. Nelum was caught completely by surprise, and the acidic substance splashed across his chest. He staggered, obviously hurt, but regained his composure and began to chant an incantation, spreading his hands in front of him.
The tall young man by the altar and the young lady behind him both began to intone their own incantations, making arcane gestures with their hands.
Nelum completed his spell first. A stream of liquid energy, shifting in color through all the rainbow hues, spouted forth from his hands and splashed the length of the chamber. The young man continued his spell, but the woman was stunned by the impact of the energy, and did not finish her spell.
Belarn darted behind Nelum, firing an arrow from his bow at the tiny dragon. He hit, scratching it, and succeeding in enraging it even more.
Olgar dived past Nelum, dodging through the doorway and rolling into one corner of the room. There he cast a spell of his own. Calling on the divine might of Kraig, he caused an image of Kraig’s Blessing, the great flaming sword of the god, to materialize in front of the dragon. The sword attacked with a fury.
Outta keep th’ little bugger busy! Olgar thought.
Recovering from his dodge of the dragon’s spit, Wodyn charged forward, breaking his axe down into his two component pieces as his did so. His target was the you man, who had just completed his own incantation. Black shards of arcane armor sprang into being about the young man. Wodyn just roared and slashed at his with a hand axe, causing blood to go spurting across the altar. A gaping slash wound ran down one of the man’s arms, but the man did not appear to weaken.
Suddenly, the entire room went black, as if all of the torches were instantly extinguished and night had suddenly fallen. Even Olgar’s dwarf sight failed him. He was virtually blind. He could hear Belarn’s bow thrum as the halfling launched another arrow, and heard the arrow skip off the stone walls. Nelum mumbled incantations behind him, sending a bright bolt of energy up into the room to collide with an unseen form.
At least I ain’ blinded, Olgar thought. Tha’s magical darkness.
In front of him, a small light appeared at floor level, just enough to illuminate the young man, the altar, and Wodyn, who was retrieving one of his hand axes. Wodyn had apparently managed to fish one of the magical lights they had taken from the ancient temple out of his pouch. The magical flame did not banish all of the darkness, but it was enough to give Olgar a target. He chanted another incantation, and pointed his fist at the man in front of the altar, who was casting another spell. The man went suddenly rigid, his incantation ceasing.
Gotcha! Olgar thought, a feral grin coming to his lips. He drew Stonecleaver from the sheath at his back, and began to move up behind Wodyn, feeling his way in the dark.
Olgar heard the beating of wings as something flew by him, then heard the screech of the dragon as Wodyn cried out in pain. At the rear of the room, Nelum whispered another incantation, which ended in a brief flicker of light that was suddenly extinguished. The next sound was that of the door slamming.
Not lookin’ good fer us! Olgar thought. Then Wodyn stepped back into the small circle of light, bringing both his axes down on the frozen man. The man collapsed the the floor, his lifeblood draining from two enormous rents in his body. One down, two t’ go!
Suddenly, claws raked over Olgar’s back. They didn’t penetrate his mail, but clearly the dragon wyrmling had managed to locate him somehow in the darkness. Time t’ do summat about that! Olgar thought. He cleared his mind, and focused his thoughts on Kraig’s temple. A soft red glow enveloped him, and he knew that he was safe in Kraig’s blessing, unless their opponents should break through his divine protection. He began casting another spell, one that would increase his strength so that he could rain down crushing blows upon his opponents.
Wodyn, meanwhile, was laying about in the dark with his axes, attempting to find the dragon. Every now and again a claw would lash out from the darkness and strike the man, then be gone before Wodyn could react. The barbarian was already bleeding from a number of small wounds.
His spells complete, Olgar lashed out at where the creature should be after he saw its shadow against the one small light in the darkness. He landed a light blow, not enough to wound, but enough that he knew where the beast was. He was rewarded by a splash of acid that burned down into his armor. He would have cried out in pain, but his rage was building, and he was solely focused on bringing down that reptilian creature of darkness. He barely noticed as the young woman pushed passed him, opening the door behind him. The door’s opening was immediately followed by the “thwack” of a crossbow firing.
Olgar drew another bead on where he though the dragon was, and lashed out at it. His blow didn’t connect, but it forced the creature back into Wodyn, who was able to wound it with his axe. The wyrmling screamed again, and attempted to flee, but as it tried to fly past Wodyn, he swung again with his axe, crashing the blade into the back of the creature’s neck. The darkness vanished, and the dragon fell dead to the temple floor.
With man and dragon both dead or dying, Wodyn and Olgar rushed back toward the entrance to the room, where the young woman stood in a stand off with Nelum – she with her quarterstaff, the mage with a crossbow. Yuusdrail wailed in sorrow behind them, throwing herself onto the corpse of the dragon.
“Stop,” the woman demanded, “or I’ll kill him!” She thumped the mage with her staff for good measure.
“Doubt it!” Olgar growled, and swung his sword, which glanced off of some invisible shield that she had erected around her.
“Wait!” Wodyn said. “We will take your surrender!”
The woman turned to Wodyn and spoke in a language Olgar did not understand. Wodyn responded in kind. The woman lowered her weapon, and continued to converse with Wodyn, who had likewise lowered his weapon.
“Wha’s she sayin?” Olgar growled, his sword still at the ready, rage burning inside him. He longer to reach out and destroy this final enemy, but loyalty to Wodyn held him in check.
Wodyn’s conversation continued for a moment longer, and then he spoke to Olgar and the others. “This is Sarah. I’ve given her safe passage. She was held against her will by the others here.”
”Wha’?” Olgar asked incredulously, “Yer just gonna let ‘er go? Wha’ about th’ spells she was castin’?”
“Spells of protection,” the girl replied, “I foresaw your coming. I have a talent for that. That’s why Zachariah wanted me, so I could assist him in bringing about his prophecy.”
“Wha’ prophecy, wha’ are you talkin’ about?” Olgar demanded.
“The end of the world; the remaking of the world,” the girl explained. “Zachariah’s ancestor had one of the seven stones that would bring about the end of the world. There is an active gate to the Abyss in the crypt in the cemetery. Zachariah was bringing through demonic allies, like this demon wrymling, to help him find the other stones. Those, plus the death of his brother, would seal open the gate and bring about the end of the world, and bring back the Old Gods, the ones represented in this temple.”
“The mind flayers,” Nelum said, and the girl nodded.
“I must go now,” she continued, “to find Noir, and make sure he is safe. His death starts the prophecy.”
“Er …” Olgar began, then thought better of it. Guess we need’nt share tha’ little detail.
“Go,” Wodyn said. “We will see to the gate.” The girl departed. Belarn was already searching the temple, and Nelum pulled a dagger and a bag of coin from the body of the Zachariah.
“Check these for magic?” Nelum asked Olgar, and Olgar muttered a brief prayer. There was a hint of necromancy about the dagger, and he detected another aura about the altar, which Belarn was examining closely.
“Aha!” Belarn exclaimed. There was a ‘click’, and the halfling dove into a small recess that opened in the altar. A few moments later he emerged with a bag of coin, a gem studded necklace, and a scroll case. Both the necklace and the scroll gave auras of magic.
“We’d best get to the crypt,” Wodyn said.
“Nae, we’d best see t’ healin’ up, getting’ rest, an’ recovering some spells,” Olgar disagreed. He, Wodyn, and Nelum were all cut, bruised, or suffering from the effects of the dragon’s acid breath. Wodyn was starting to show the effects of shock. Olgar took out his curing wand, and gave each of the three a brief treatment.
Kraig fergive me fer actin’ th’ healer, he thought, but ‘twas a good fight. An’ tis glorious defatin’ a dragon, even one ‘tis only a wyrmling.
Wodyn reluctantly agreed, and after a brief search of the rest of the house, where they found nothing of note, the party went out into the woods to camp and prepare for the next day’s assault. In the morning they would enter the Gentry’s family crypt.
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
CHAPTER 4 – FOLLOW THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD
The party camped in the house that night, prepared to do battle the next morning. In the night, the sound of a scuffling in one corner of the room woke Olgar and Belarn. Olgart slowly turned over, and noticed the kobold going through Nelum’s pack.
“Wha’ in th’ nine ‘ells ‘re you doin’, lizard?” Olgar shouted, waking the entire group. Yuusdrail froze, caught red handed.
“Nothing,” she whimpered.
Wodyn bounded over and grabbed the kobold. She had been going through a book in Nelum’s pack, and in her hands were bits of the things she had taken off of the dragon corpse: a few scales, a vial of blood, and a couple of teeth.
“She ain’t t’ be trusted,” Olgar growled, “no doubt she was plannin’ t’ cast a spell ‘re summat worse. I says we off ‘er right now.”
Wodyn shook his head, then took a look at the book. “What were you doing, little one?” he asked the kobold.
“Gain dragon power,” Yuusdrail said.
“Likely story,” Olgar growled, still unconvinced. “She prob’ly wants t’ resurrect th’ damn thing.”
“Let it go, dwarf,” Wodyn said.
“Fine,” Olgar replied, rolling back over, “but iff’n I catch ‘er goin’ through me stuff, she’s dead, an’ you ain’t stoppin’ me.”
The rest of the night passed quietly, and after preparing their weapons and spells the groups headed downstairs and out behind the mansion to the cemetery. It was a small plot, about fifty feet on a side, with twenty or so aged headstones, all bearing one Gentry name or another. In the center of the plot was a stone mausoleum about ten feet square. A door faced them, with a carved gargoyle leering down over the doorway.
Olgar fired a crossbow bolt that shattered off of the gargoyle. “Just checking,” he muttered, “alright, runt, check the door.” They entered the cemetery, Nelum remaining just outside the gate, and Belarn carefully examined the door for traps.
“It’s clean,” he announced, and then attempted to open the door. The eyes of the gargoyle above the door glowed briefly red, and Belarn’s eyes glazed over.
“Clean my arse,” Olgar muttered, “tha’ looked like a trap. Still, prob’ly discharged a’ th’ first shot. Fine, let th’ priest try.” He shouldered aside Belarn, who had lost his usual cunning look and was staring blankly at his thieve’s tools. “Quit standin’ there like an’ idjit an’ get outta th’ way.”
The door opened smoothly for Olgar, allowing him through, then closed behind him. He shouted through the closed door: “Not much in here, some remains, an’ a big stone coffin. Get in heres so’s I ken open th’ thing!”
Guess I’ll have t’ do it meself, Olgar thought grimly. He stowed his crossbow and rolled up his sleeves, calling on Kraig to protect and shield him, and increase his strength so that he could open the coffin. His prayers and spells finished, Olgar kicked at the lid of the coofin, spilling it onto the floor. A black opening yawned in the bottom of the coffin, revealing a set of stairs that descended into blackness.
“Stairway down,” he yelled back. Now wha’ could be keepin’ them?
There was a banging of steel on stone coming from the far side of the stone door. Wodyn, not willing to risk the trap that had drained Belarn’s mind, was banging away at the stone gargoyle with his axe. After a number of swings, the stone finally cracked and gave way, opening the door, but also releasing a rush of pinkish magical energy that washed over Wodyn, Belarn, and Olgar.
Olgar felt his strength and health fade from him. He gave a brief cough, not feeling his hale dwarven self. He turned to the doorway. “Now wha’d ye go an’ do tha’ for?” he asked Wodyn accusingly. Belarn’s blank expression had advanced: he was into full-on idiocy now.
Wodyn’s shoulder’s slumped. All his will to fight had been drained from him. “I was trying to disable the trap,” he said.
“It worked,” Olgar replied, “but now we’re in no shape t’ face whate’ers down there. Back t’ the temple o’ Kraig. Either this hex’ll pass by morning, or I’ll fix us up a couple o’ restorations an’ see iff’n tha’ might do the trick. Come on.” Olgar paused long enough to restore the lid of the stone coffin, tapping in a few steel spikes for good measure.
Don’ know about this. Even wi’ th’ power o’ Kraig, I’m not sure we ken close a demon gate. An’ we ain’ goin’ t’ try unless we’re 100%!
They headed back to town and spent the night at the temple of Kraig. They felt no better the next morning, so Olgar prepared a few spells to restore their health and vigor. All of the spells failed. Olgar’s health was still poor, Belarn was still an idiot, and Wodyn still lacked the will or common sense to go on. Only Nelum – who had been standing outside the blast of the trap – was completely untouched.
They sat outside on the steps of the temple, discussing their next move. None of them wanted to go back to the crypt in their current condition, and it was obvious that they lacked either the knowledge, skill, or power to lift the curse brought on by opening the crypt. Olgar was of the mind that the world could go hang – there were plenty of other heroes that could stop up a gate. This little problem was out of their league.
“We got one as needs a brain,” he argued, “I needs me heart, ‘n Wodyn’s lost ‘is nerve. Hang this town; le’s be off t’ find a wizard who’ll serve t’ fix ‘re little problem.”
“Yussdrail fix,” the kobold offered, and scampered off. She returned a short while later with their old friend, the high priest of Moloch in tow.
Olgar looked at the heavens and rolled his eyes. Deus ex machina, here we go again.
“Your kobold companion explained your little problem,” Father Mayi began smoothly, “I’ll happily lift your curse if you’ll do me a favor in return.”
All except Nelum looked dubious. “What sort of favor?” Wodyn asked.
“There is an item down in the crypt I would like you to retrieve for me. Just bring it back to me when you’re done, and you can keep anything else you find,” the priest replied.
“Why’nt ye get it yerself?” Olgar asked suspiciously.
“Well, I suppose I could, but I have so much else to do, and I always like to help a friend in need.”
“Excuse us a minute,” Olgar said to the priest, then turned to the others. “Huddle.”
They stepped around the corner of the building. “Well, what ye think?” Olgar asked the others. “I’ve no problem workin’ fer th’ man, but I ain’t likin’ how ahppy ‘e is t’ be helpin’ us. We’re plannin’ t’ be off t’ th’ city t’ sell off some items, so’s we might as well be off’n take care o’ this curse there as well. Hang these buggers, they ken solve their own problems.”
“We probably shouldn’t let whatever that is fall into that priest’s hands,” Nelum offered. “Let’s take him up on the offer, then skip town once we’ve got the item in hand. We win all around!”
“Are ye daft man?” Olgar retorted, “Based on all ‘e’s done already, tha’ priest a’ likely blast this town down iff’n he had th’ mind t’. I ain’t gonna cross ‘im. We don’ need those kinds o’ enemies. Wodyn?”
“I’m thinking that we’re out of our league,” Wodyn replied, “but I leave it to you.”
Belarn was obviously going to be no help. Olgar took a deep breath, and walked back around the corner.
“Well, yer worship,” he began, “tis a generous offer, an’ havin, considered it, we’ve decided ye can go hang. Thanks anyway, nice knowing ye.” At that, he spun on his heels, and with the others in tow, they walked away down the street toward the livery stables, leaving the speechless priest in the dust behind them.
Nelum was discussing the merits of riding to the nearest city, Oerid, and had finally convinced Olgar that it was not heresy to ride, when they noticed a white figure watching them from a rooftop.
“It’s that Sarah girl, the diviner,” Nelum said.
Sarah descended and approached them, and began spouting verse: “Ice and spirits, gone but alive; what was seven is now five. The gate doth open, and soon shall see, to close the gate, the dragon is key.”
“Whatever,” Olgar replied, “go find yerself some new heroes. We’re off t’ find a job tha’ pays better fer th’ hazards. Let summat else save the world.” He gave the girl a rude gesture, and left her behind. Wodyn, Nelum, and Belarn followed him, leaving only Yuusdrail with the now dispirited Sarah.
“Yuusdrail fix,” the kobold said, tugging at her gown. Kobold and human turned away from the four and walked toward the outskirts of town.
Finally rid o’ that one! All’s well tha’ ends better, then! Olgar thought.
An hour later the four were mounted on new horses and ponies, Wodyn’s wild elk in the lead, headed northward on the yellow brick road toward the city of Oerid and new adventures.
The party camped in the house that night, prepared to do battle the next morning. In the night, the sound of a scuffling in one corner of the room woke Olgar and Belarn. Olgart slowly turned over, and noticed the kobold going through Nelum’s pack.
“Wha’ in th’ nine ‘ells ‘re you doin’, lizard?” Olgar shouted, waking the entire group. Yuusdrail froze, caught red handed.
“Nothing,” she whimpered.
Wodyn bounded over and grabbed the kobold. She had been going through a book in Nelum’s pack, and in her hands were bits of the things she had taken off of the dragon corpse: a few scales, a vial of blood, and a couple of teeth.
“She ain’t t’ be trusted,” Olgar growled, “no doubt she was plannin’ t’ cast a spell ‘re summat worse. I says we off ‘er right now.”
Wodyn shook his head, then took a look at the book. “What were you doing, little one?” he asked the kobold.
“Gain dragon power,” Yuusdrail said.
“Likely story,” Olgar growled, still unconvinced. “She prob’ly wants t’ resurrect th’ damn thing.”
“Let it go, dwarf,” Wodyn said.
“Fine,” Olgar replied, rolling back over, “but iff’n I catch ‘er goin’ through me stuff, she’s dead, an’ you ain’t stoppin’ me.”
The rest of the night passed quietly, and after preparing their weapons and spells the groups headed downstairs and out behind the mansion to the cemetery. It was a small plot, about fifty feet on a side, with twenty or so aged headstones, all bearing one Gentry name or another. In the center of the plot was a stone mausoleum about ten feet square. A door faced them, with a carved gargoyle leering down over the doorway.
Olgar fired a crossbow bolt that shattered off of the gargoyle. “Just checking,” he muttered, “alright, runt, check the door.” They entered the cemetery, Nelum remaining just outside the gate, and Belarn carefully examined the door for traps.
“It’s clean,” he announced, and then attempted to open the door. The eyes of the gargoyle above the door glowed briefly red, and Belarn’s eyes glazed over.
“Clean my arse,” Olgar muttered, “tha’ looked like a trap. Still, prob’ly discharged a’ th’ first shot. Fine, let th’ priest try.” He shouldered aside Belarn, who had lost his usual cunning look and was staring blankly at his thieve’s tools. “Quit standin’ there like an’ idjit an’ get outta th’ way.”
The door opened smoothly for Olgar, allowing him through, then closed behind him. He shouted through the closed door: “Not much in here, some remains, an’ a big stone coffin. Get in heres so’s I ken open th’ thing!”
Guess I’ll have t’ do it meself, Olgar thought grimly. He stowed his crossbow and rolled up his sleeves, calling on Kraig to protect and shield him, and increase his strength so that he could open the coffin. His prayers and spells finished, Olgar kicked at the lid of the coofin, spilling it onto the floor. A black opening yawned in the bottom of the coffin, revealing a set of stairs that descended into blackness.
“Stairway down,” he yelled back. Now wha’ could be keepin’ them?
There was a banging of steel on stone coming from the far side of the stone door. Wodyn, not willing to risk the trap that had drained Belarn’s mind, was banging away at the stone gargoyle with his axe. After a number of swings, the stone finally cracked and gave way, opening the door, but also releasing a rush of pinkish magical energy that washed over Wodyn, Belarn, and Olgar.
Olgar felt his strength and health fade from him. He gave a brief cough, not feeling his hale dwarven self. He turned to the doorway. “Now wha’d ye go an’ do tha’ for?” he asked Wodyn accusingly. Belarn’s blank expression had advanced: he was into full-on idiocy now.
Wodyn’s shoulder’s slumped. All his will to fight had been drained from him. “I was trying to disable the trap,” he said.
“It worked,” Olgar replied, “but now we’re in no shape t’ face whate’ers down there. Back t’ the temple o’ Kraig. Either this hex’ll pass by morning, or I’ll fix us up a couple o’ restorations an’ see iff’n tha’ might do the trick. Come on.” Olgar paused long enough to restore the lid of the stone coffin, tapping in a few steel spikes for good measure.
Don’ know about this. Even wi’ th’ power o’ Kraig, I’m not sure we ken close a demon gate. An’ we ain’ goin’ t’ try unless we’re 100%!
They headed back to town and spent the night at the temple of Kraig. They felt no better the next morning, so Olgar prepared a few spells to restore their health and vigor. All of the spells failed. Olgar’s health was still poor, Belarn was still an idiot, and Wodyn still lacked the will or common sense to go on. Only Nelum – who had been standing outside the blast of the trap – was completely untouched.
They sat outside on the steps of the temple, discussing their next move. None of them wanted to go back to the crypt in their current condition, and it was obvious that they lacked either the knowledge, skill, or power to lift the curse brought on by opening the crypt. Olgar was of the mind that the world could go hang – there were plenty of other heroes that could stop up a gate. This little problem was out of their league.
“We got one as needs a brain,” he argued, “I needs me heart, ‘n Wodyn’s lost ‘is nerve. Hang this town; le’s be off t’ find a wizard who’ll serve t’ fix ‘re little problem.”
“Yussdrail fix,” the kobold offered, and scampered off. She returned a short while later with their old friend, the high priest of Moloch in tow.
Olgar looked at the heavens and rolled his eyes. Deus ex machina, here we go again.
“Your kobold companion explained your little problem,” Father Mayi began smoothly, “I’ll happily lift your curse if you’ll do me a favor in return.”
All except Nelum looked dubious. “What sort of favor?” Wodyn asked.
“There is an item down in the crypt I would like you to retrieve for me. Just bring it back to me when you’re done, and you can keep anything else you find,” the priest replied.
“Why’nt ye get it yerself?” Olgar asked suspiciously.
“Well, I suppose I could, but I have so much else to do, and I always like to help a friend in need.”
“Excuse us a minute,” Olgar said to the priest, then turned to the others. “Huddle.”
They stepped around the corner of the building. “Well, what ye think?” Olgar asked the others. “I’ve no problem workin’ fer th’ man, but I ain’t likin’ how ahppy ‘e is t’ be helpin’ us. We’re plannin’ t’ be off t’ th’ city t’ sell off some items, so’s we might as well be off’n take care o’ this curse there as well. Hang these buggers, they ken solve their own problems.”
“We probably shouldn’t let whatever that is fall into that priest’s hands,” Nelum offered. “Let’s take him up on the offer, then skip town once we’ve got the item in hand. We win all around!”
“Are ye daft man?” Olgar retorted, “Based on all ‘e’s done already, tha’ priest a’ likely blast this town down iff’n he had th’ mind t’. I ain’t gonna cross ‘im. We don’ need those kinds o’ enemies. Wodyn?”
“I’m thinking that we’re out of our league,” Wodyn replied, “but I leave it to you.”
Belarn was obviously going to be no help. Olgar took a deep breath, and walked back around the corner.
“Well, yer worship,” he began, “tis a generous offer, an’ havin, considered it, we’ve decided ye can go hang. Thanks anyway, nice knowing ye.” At that, he spun on his heels, and with the others in tow, they walked away down the street toward the livery stables, leaving the speechless priest in the dust behind them.
Nelum was discussing the merits of riding to the nearest city, Oerid, and had finally convinced Olgar that it was not heresy to ride, when they noticed a white figure watching them from a rooftop.
“It’s that Sarah girl, the diviner,” Nelum said.
Sarah descended and approached them, and began spouting verse: “Ice and spirits, gone but alive; what was seven is now five. The gate doth open, and soon shall see, to close the gate, the dragon is key.”
“Whatever,” Olgar replied, “go find yerself some new heroes. We’re off t’ find a job tha’ pays better fer th’ hazards. Let summat else save the world.” He gave the girl a rude gesture, and left her behind. Wodyn, Nelum, and Belarn followed him, leaving only Yuusdrail with the now dispirited Sarah.
“Yuusdrail fix,” the kobold said, tugging at her gown. Kobold and human turned away from the four and walked toward the outskirts of town.
Finally rid o’ that one! All’s well tha’ ends better, then! Olgar thought.
An hour later the four were mounted on new horses and ponies, Wodyn’s wild elk in the lead, headed northward on the yellow brick road toward the city of Oerid and new adventures.
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
Chpt 4, cont.
Just outside of town they came upon a roadblock. Two woodsy-looking characters, a human and a dwarf, were standing in the middle of the road. Several large animals – a bear and some wolves – stood in the road with them.
Druids, great, Olgar remarked, this’ll leave a mark. He looked to the left and right, looking for an avenue of escape, then realized that if he spurred his pony to a gallop, he’d probably fall right off.
“Stop, we need to talk to you!” the druids said. The party halted.
Wodyn looked down from his elk. “What can we do for you?”
“We’d like the wand that belonged to our friend Noir,” the human replied.
“Fine,” Wodyn responded, “here you go.” He flipped him the wand, and the party rode onward, unmolested.
They traveled for three days without incident, and soon reached the outskirts of the city of Oerid. After fighting off a small swarm of stirges – nasty mosquito-like creatures that sucked blood – just outside of town they were a bit drained but otherwise no worse for wear. They headed for the city gate.
A city guard stopped them. “Halt, state your business and peace-bond your weapons.”
“We’re ‘ere t’ do some shoppin’” Olgar said, “an’ get a curse lifted. Wha’s peace-bondin?”
The guard demonstrated how by tying an elaborate knot, he would secure their weapons in their respective sheathes. “More peaceful that way, “ he explained, “ And that’s how the Justice League likes it. Are you a spell-caster?” This last was directed at Nelum, who nodded.
The guard bound the fingers of Nelum’s hands together with peace-bonds while Nelum asked, “Who are the Justice League?”
“They’re in charge of the city. They make and enforce the laws, and see that everyone is treated the same. Stay out of trouble, don’t cause fights, and stay away from the temple of Veriday, and you’ll be fine.”
“What’s wrong with the temple of Veriday?” Wodyn asked.
“It’s off-limits. They have been causing trouble in the city, so we had to shut them down.”
Olgar shrugged, “ Aye, whatever. What other temples be there?”
The guard began a long description of the various temples, their locations, descriptions, and his opinions of the various orders. “Quite th’ tour guide, isn’t ‘e?” Olgar whispered to Nelum. They finally obtained the information they wanted, and headed off to find the Temple of Obi, which was a gaudy shrine to the god of knowledge on the far side of town.
The priest in the sanctum at the temple of Obi welcomed them warmly and asked their business.
“We need a curse lifted,” Nelum explained, “actually, three of them.” He described the symptoms, as the priest nodded.
“We can take care of that,” the priest said, ”for a small donation to the church.”
“Is this small enough?” Wodyn asked, taking out the large piece of onyx they had found in the dragon’s hoard. The priest’s eyes popped.
“That will leave us deeply in your debt,” the priest stammered.
“Well, we could use a few healing scrolls, and we have some magical items we’d like to have examined,” Wodyn offered. “Would those services justify this donation?”
The priest nodded. “Follow me,” he said, and led them out a back door, through a couple of rooms, then through a door hidden behind a bookcase into a passage that spiraled downward. Eventually they came to a small, well-lit chamber that contained a desk and a couple of bookshelves.
The priest sat down, took the gem, and Wodyn passed over the remaining magical items that needed evaluation – the sickle, the dagger, and the garnet necklace. The priest handed him back a small flat piece of slate about four inches square.
“Take this,” he said, “it will glow and vibrate when we are ready to speak to you again about the items. In the meantime, you might want to find an inn. I recommend The Lit Lantern, just around the block from here. If you’ll wait a moment, we’ll see to the curse.”
The priest departed and returned a short while later bearing three rolls of parchment. In a low chant, he read each one and touched Wodyn, Belarn, and Olgar in turn. Each of them took on a soft blue glow, which quickly faded. Olgar immediately felt healthier and stronger than he had in days.
“Tha’s th’ ticket! Now le’s get some food ‘n rest!”
The adventurers thanked the man, promising to return as soon as they were paged.
They left the temple and found Strithe, the elven ranger, waiting for them outside.
“Where you been, an’ what’re ye doin’ here?” Olgar asked.
“Following my vision,” the elf replied, “and tracking you down.”
“Could have used you help the last week,” Wodyn said, and filled the elf in on their recent activities.
“Ken we be goin’ now?” Olgar asked impatiently.
They departed, and soon arrived at a large, well-lit, two-story building whose sign proclaimed “The Lit Lantern”. They entered the common room, a spacious area of tables and chairs that was about half-full of patrons. Most of the clientele seemed to be adventurers – various races, many with odd dress or unusual equipment. Many were wearing armor or carrying weapons. A tall woman called out to them as they entered.
“Well met, and welcome to the Lit Lantern. Are you looking for a room or services?”
“Aye,” Olgar said, “we could use a place t’ stay. An’ what services ye offer?”
“We serve as an adventurers guild,” the woman replied, “we help link clients in need of … assistance … up with those that can help them. There is a list of available work on that board over there.” She pointed to one wall, which had a number of leaflets, fliers, and notices tacked up on it. “The cost is minimal, once you register with us.”
“Why register, if people can just go to the authorities to solve their problems?” Nelum asked.
The woman laughed. “You obviously haven’t been in Oerid long. There are many things people would prefer the city not to get involved in.”
“Aye, then,” Olgar said, “we’ll at least take a room fer a week’re so.” He paid for their room, and the woman brought a tablet over.
“Sign the name of your company,” she said.
“Company, wha’ company?” Olgar asked, confused.
“The name of your adventuring company,” the woman replied, amused, “you did say you were adventurers, didn’t you?”
“Aye, but we’re more like five guys goin’ in th’ same direction,” Olgar replied. With a wicked grin, he wrote “Five Guys Going in the Same Direction” down as their company name. Should ha’ called us ‘The Lollipop Guild,’ he thought with a wry smile.
“Well, then, here’s the key to your room,” the woman said, and went to see to some of the other patrons.
“Well, time fer some much deserved rest,” Olgar said, “I’m t’ bed down.”
“I’m going to try and call a familiar!” Nelum announced. The others shrugged, and headed off to their room to get some rest.
Just outside of town they came upon a roadblock. Two woodsy-looking characters, a human and a dwarf, were standing in the middle of the road. Several large animals – a bear and some wolves – stood in the road with them.
Druids, great, Olgar remarked, this’ll leave a mark. He looked to the left and right, looking for an avenue of escape, then realized that if he spurred his pony to a gallop, he’d probably fall right off.
“Stop, we need to talk to you!” the druids said. The party halted.
Wodyn looked down from his elk. “What can we do for you?”
“We’d like the wand that belonged to our friend Noir,” the human replied.
“Fine,” Wodyn responded, “here you go.” He flipped him the wand, and the party rode onward, unmolested.
They traveled for three days without incident, and soon reached the outskirts of the city of Oerid. After fighting off a small swarm of stirges – nasty mosquito-like creatures that sucked blood – just outside of town they were a bit drained but otherwise no worse for wear. They headed for the city gate.
A city guard stopped them. “Halt, state your business and peace-bond your weapons.”
“We’re ‘ere t’ do some shoppin’” Olgar said, “an’ get a curse lifted. Wha’s peace-bondin?”
The guard demonstrated how by tying an elaborate knot, he would secure their weapons in their respective sheathes. “More peaceful that way, “ he explained, “ And that’s how the Justice League likes it. Are you a spell-caster?” This last was directed at Nelum, who nodded.
The guard bound the fingers of Nelum’s hands together with peace-bonds while Nelum asked, “Who are the Justice League?”
“They’re in charge of the city. They make and enforce the laws, and see that everyone is treated the same. Stay out of trouble, don’t cause fights, and stay away from the temple of Veriday, and you’ll be fine.”
“What’s wrong with the temple of Veriday?” Wodyn asked.
“It’s off-limits. They have been causing trouble in the city, so we had to shut them down.”
Olgar shrugged, “ Aye, whatever. What other temples be there?”
The guard began a long description of the various temples, their locations, descriptions, and his opinions of the various orders. “Quite th’ tour guide, isn’t ‘e?” Olgar whispered to Nelum. They finally obtained the information they wanted, and headed off to find the Temple of Obi, which was a gaudy shrine to the god of knowledge on the far side of town.
The priest in the sanctum at the temple of Obi welcomed them warmly and asked their business.
“We need a curse lifted,” Nelum explained, “actually, three of them.” He described the symptoms, as the priest nodded.
“We can take care of that,” the priest said, ”for a small donation to the church.”
“Is this small enough?” Wodyn asked, taking out the large piece of onyx they had found in the dragon’s hoard. The priest’s eyes popped.
“That will leave us deeply in your debt,” the priest stammered.
“Well, we could use a few healing scrolls, and we have some magical items we’d like to have examined,” Wodyn offered. “Would those services justify this donation?”
The priest nodded. “Follow me,” he said, and led them out a back door, through a couple of rooms, then through a door hidden behind a bookcase into a passage that spiraled downward. Eventually they came to a small, well-lit chamber that contained a desk and a couple of bookshelves.
The priest sat down, took the gem, and Wodyn passed over the remaining magical items that needed evaluation – the sickle, the dagger, and the garnet necklace. The priest handed him back a small flat piece of slate about four inches square.
“Take this,” he said, “it will glow and vibrate when we are ready to speak to you again about the items. In the meantime, you might want to find an inn. I recommend The Lit Lantern, just around the block from here. If you’ll wait a moment, we’ll see to the curse.”
The priest departed and returned a short while later bearing three rolls of parchment. In a low chant, he read each one and touched Wodyn, Belarn, and Olgar in turn. Each of them took on a soft blue glow, which quickly faded. Olgar immediately felt healthier and stronger than he had in days.
“Tha’s th’ ticket! Now le’s get some food ‘n rest!”
The adventurers thanked the man, promising to return as soon as they were paged.
They left the temple and found Strithe, the elven ranger, waiting for them outside.
“Where you been, an’ what’re ye doin’ here?” Olgar asked.
“Following my vision,” the elf replied, “and tracking you down.”
“Could have used you help the last week,” Wodyn said, and filled the elf in on their recent activities.
“Ken we be goin’ now?” Olgar asked impatiently.
They departed, and soon arrived at a large, well-lit, two-story building whose sign proclaimed “The Lit Lantern”. They entered the common room, a spacious area of tables and chairs that was about half-full of patrons. Most of the clientele seemed to be adventurers – various races, many with odd dress or unusual equipment. Many were wearing armor or carrying weapons. A tall woman called out to them as they entered.
“Well met, and welcome to the Lit Lantern. Are you looking for a room or services?”
“Aye,” Olgar said, “we could use a place t’ stay. An’ what services ye offer?”
“We serve as an adventurers guild,” the woman replied, “we help link clients in need of … assistance … up with those that can help them. There is a list of available work on that board over there.” She pointed to one wall, which had a number of leaflets, fliers, and notices tacked up on it. “The cost is minimal, once you register with us.”
“Why register, if people can just go to the authorities to solve their problems?” Nelum asked.
The woman laughed. “You obviously haven’t been in Oerid long. There are many things people would prefer the city not to get involved in.”
“Aye, then,” Olgar said, “we’ll at least take a room fer a week’re so.” He paid for their room, and the woman brought a tablet over.
“Sign the name of your company,” she said.
“Company, wha’ company?” Olgar asked, confused.
“The name of your adventuring company,” the woman replied, amused, “you did say you were adventurers, didn’t you?”
“Aye, but we’re more like five guys goin’ in th’ same direction,” Olgar replied. With a wicked grin, he wrote “Five Guys Going in the Same Direction” down as their company name. Should ha’ called us ‘The Lollipop Guild,’ he thought with a wry smile.
“Well, then, here’s the key to your room,” the woman said, and went to see to some of the other patrons.
“Well, time fer some much deserved rest,” Olgar said, “I’m t’ bed down.”
“I’m going to try and call a familiar!” Nelum announced. The others shrugged, and headed off to their room to get some rest.
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
Chpt 4, cont.
The next morning the group gathered in the common room. Nelum was showing off the rat that his magic had attracted the night before. He had named the rodent “Cand,” and insisted on walking around with the thing perched on his shoulder.
Looks even more like a bloody peacock, Olgar sneered. He was reading the “want ads” that were posted on the wall.
“Aye, here’s somethin’ tha’ might be up our alley,” he announced to the others,” it says ‘adventurers needed to rid house of goblin infestation and recover family heirloom’. Tha’ sounds like good, honest work – smackin’ greenies around. Wha ye think?”
The others had no objection, and Wodyn actually growled at the mention of goblins.
“Aye, says here to contact Johann somebody-or-other. Wonder where we find ‘im?”
“He’s right here,” said a voice from behind them. A small sallow man was standing up from a table and walking over toward them. “I’m Johann. A goblin tribe raided my home and stole a priceless family heirloom. I need some help to get it back.”
“Aye, then, how many were there, an’ wha’d they take?” Olgar asked. “Presume ye live on a farmstead ‘r summat?”
“No, I live here in the city, against the east wall.” Olgar raised an eyebrow. “There were about seventy-five of them. I think they used magic, and teleported into my house, or something.” Olgar raised his other eyebrow, and turned to Belarn, who was making a circling motion around one ear with his finger. The man continued: “They took a magical sword that has been in my family’s possession for generations. I’d gladly offer 300 gold each for its recovery.”
Olgar’s beady eyes took on a greedy look, and he began to rub his hands together. Wodyn asked, “Why not just go to the city watch?”
Johann looked horrified. “They’d probably tax me for it, or confiscate it, or worse. I need it recovered quietly!”
“Aye, we’ll take th’ job, then,” Olgar decided. “Ken ye lead us t’ yer house?”
“I’m not going back there if the goblins are still around,” Johann replied, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m paying you for. Here’s the directions.” He rambled off some directions.
At that point there came a buzzing noise, and Wodyn held up the small piece of slate that was flashing red and vibrating.
“Well, we’ve got summat t’ do b’fore we ken looks th’ place over,” Olgar explained, “but we’ll be out there first thing t’morrow.”
Johann nodded. The rest of the party rose to their feet, and they followed Wodyn back to the Temple of Obi, where they presented the vibrating slate. They were immediately ushered inside and down to the secret room in the catacombs, where the priest they had met the day before was waiting for them.
He handed Wodyn a roll of parchments. “Here are the scrolls you requested. Healing spells.” Wodyn handed the rolls to Olgar.
“As to the other items,” the priest continued. “the sickle is of very high quality, quite sharp, and it’s magic allows it to strike more efficiently, though it has no other special powers. The dagger is also enchanted, and will drain part of the life energy out of whomever it strikes. The necklace will produce magical blasts of fire, if its gems are removed and thrown. The larger gems produce larger blasts.” He gave the items back to Wodyn, who handed the dagger to Belarn, and the necklace to Nelum.
“Time fer a bit o’ an auction!” Olgar said greedily, “tha’ sickle‘ll go t’ th’ highest bidder!”
“That’s not a wise idea,” the priest offered.
“An’ why not?” Olgar countered.
“The local government is not … friendly to free enterprise,” the priest explained. “They would most likely quash the auction and confiscate the item for failure to file proper taxes. That is essentially what they did to the Temple of Veriday, when the leaders there had issues with the Justice League’s brand of justice. I can put you in touch with a factor who will likely purchase the item for further sale, if you like.”
“Do it,” Wodyn agreed. The priest scurried off to send a message, and returned a few minutes later.
“Your meeting with the lady is arranged. See the blind merchant,” the priest said, scribbling directions. “He will be your contact. Of course, you must keep all of this quite confidential.”
“No problem,” Wodyn agreed, as they departed.
No problem, Olgar thought. Either the “Justice League” is a bunch a’ bloomin’ idjits, ‘r th’ whole house o’ cards is about t’ come crashin’ down. We been in town less than 24 hours, an’ already found th’ underground adventurers guild, secret resistance t’ th’ government, an’ th’ thieves guild er summat. No bloody city council could be tha’ incompetent. Kraig save me from such buffoons.
They followed the priest’s directions to a small building whose sign boldly proclaimed “The Blind Merchant.”
“Catchy name,” Olgar observed as they entered.
The shop was a general store, which sold a great deal of normal clothing in addition to general supplies. The shop’s namesake, the blind merchant, was sitting on a stool behind the counter as they entered.
“May I help you?” he asked as they entered.
“We’re here to see your lady friend about some merchandise,” Wodyn explained.
“Just a moment,” the man said, disappearing into the back room. He returned a moment later. “You’re expected. Follow me please.”
Didn’t even ask for identification. These buggers won’t last long.
They followed the man into the back room, and then descended a ladder into a basement chamber. There, seated behind a table, was a woman and two roguish companions.
“We’ve got a magical item we were told you might be willing to purchase,” Wodyn offered.
“Yes, I know,” the woman replied. “We often buy such things, then pass them on to other buyers. You won’t get market price, but it’s the best you’ll do in this town. Let me see the item.”
Wodyn passed the sickle over, and the woman examined it, offering it to one of her companions, who also looked it over closely. Then, after a few moments bargaining with Wodyn, they settled on a price of 500 platinum coins.
“Is there anything else?” the woman asked, when she had passed over their payment.
“No,” Wodyn said, rising to leave.
“You understand if you speak one word about us to anyone, we’ll have you killed,” she concluded matter-of-factly.
“Na’er heard o’ye, lassie,” Olgar said, and they departed.
Once upstairs, they divided up the platinum coins, a hundred coins per, and split up to do some shopping on their own. Belarn headed back inside, ostensibly to browse the lingerie aisle, but Olgar had overheard him talking about poison earlier in the day.
Olgar took his share and searched out the finest smith he could find. By the time he returned to the Lit Lantern, he had exchanged his battered suit of scale mail for a nicely made suit of steel banded armor, and replaced his simple but serviceable crossbow with a much more finely crafted model.
Easy come, easy go, he mused. Time t’ smite some greenies!
The next morning the group gathered in the common room. Nelum was showing off the rat that his magic had attracted the night before. He had named the rodent “Cand,” and insisted on walking around with the thing perched on his shoulder.
Looks even more like a bloody peacock, Olgar sneered. He was reading the “want ads” that were posted on the wall.
“Aye, here’s somethin’ tha’ might be up our alley,” he announced to the others,” it says ‘adventurers needed to rid house of goblin infestation and recover family heirloom’. Tha’ sounds like good, honest work – smackin’ greenies around. Wha ye think?”
The others had no objection, and Wodyn actually growled at the mention of goblins.
“Aye, says here to contact Johann somebody-or-other. Wonder where we find ‘im?”
“He’s right here,” said a voice from behind them. A small sallow man was standing up from a table and walking over toward them. “I’m Johann. A goblin tribe raided my home and stole a priceless family heirloom. I need some help to get it back.”
“Aye, then, how many were there, an’ wha’d they take?” Olgar asked. “Presume ye live on a farmstead ‘r summat?”
“No, I live here in the city, against the east wall.” Olgar raised an eyebrow. “There were about seventy-five of them. I think they used magic, and teleported into my house, or something.” Olgar raised his other eyebrow, and turned to Belarn, who was making a circling motion around one ear with his finger. The man continued: “They took a magical sword that has been in my family’s possession for generations. I’d gladly offer 300 gold each for its recovery.”
Olgar’s beady eyes took on a greedy look, and he began to rub his hands together. Wodyn asked, “Why not just go to the city watch?”
Johann looked horrified. “They’d probably tax me for it, or confiscate it, or worse. I need it recovered quietly!”
“Aye, we’ll take th’ job, then,” Olgar decided. “Ken ye lead us t’ yer house?”
“I’m not going back there if the goblins are still around,” Johann replied, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m paying you for. Here’s the directions.” He rambled off some directions.
At that point there came a buzzing noise, and Wodyn held up the small piece of slate that was flashing red and vibrating.
“Well, we’ve got summat t’ do b’fore we ken looks th’ place over,” Olgar explained, “but we’ll be out there first thing t’morrow.”
Johann nodded. The rest of the party rose to their feet, and they followed Wodyn back to the Temple of Obi, where they presented the vibrating slate. They were immediately ushered inside and down to the secret room in the catacombs, where the priest they had met the day before was waiting for them.
He handed Wodyn a roll of parchments. “Here are the scrolls you requested. Healing spells.” Wodyn handed the rolls to Olgar.
“As to the other items,” the priest continued. “the sickle is of very high quality, quite sharp, and it’s magic allows it to strike more efficiently, though it has no other special powers. The dagger is also enchanted, and will drain part of the life energy out of whomever it strikes. The necklace will produce magical blasts of fire, if its gems are removed and thrown. The larger gems produce larger blasts.” He gave the items back to Wodyn, who handed the dagger to Belarn, and the necklace to Nelum.
“Time fer a bit o’ an auction!” Olgar said greedily, “tha’ sickle‘ll go t’ th’ highest bidder!”
“That’s not a wise idea,” the priest offered.
“An’ why not?” Olgar countered.
“The local government is not … friendly to free enterprise,” the priest explained. “They would most likely quash the auction and confiscate the item for failure to file proper taxes. That is essentially what they did to the Temple of Veriday, when the leaders there had issues with the Justice League’s brand of justice. I can put you in touch with a factor who will likely purchase the item for further sale, if you like.”
“Do it,” Wodyn agreed. The priest scurried off to send a message, and returned a few minutes later.
“Your meeting with the lady is arranged. See the blind merchant,” the priest said, scribbling directions. “He will be your contact. Of course, you must keep all of this quite confidential.”
“No problem,” Wodyn agreed, as they departed.
No problem, Olgar thought. Either the “Justice League” is a bunch a’ bloomin’ idjits, ‘r th’ whole house o’ cards is about t’ come crashin’ down. We been in town less than 24 hours, an’ already found th’ underground adventurers guild, secret resistance t’ th’ government, an’ th’ thieves guild er summat. No bloody city council could be tha’ incompetent. Kraig save me from such buffoons.
They followed the priest’s directions to a small building whose sign boldly proclaimed “The Blind Merchant.”
“Catchy name,” Olgar observed as they entered.
The shop was a general store, which sold a great deal of normal clothing in addition to general supplies. The shop’s namesake, the blind merchant, was sitting on a stool behind the counter as they entered.
“May I help you?” he asked as they entered.
“We’re here to see your lady friend about some merchandise,” Wodyn explained.
“Just a moment,” the man said, disappearing into the back room. He returned a moment later. “You’re expected. Follow me please.”
Didn’t even ask for identification. These buggers won’t last long.
They followed the man into the back room, and then descended a ladder into a basement chamber. There, seated behind a table, was a woman and two roguish companions.
“We’ve got a magical item we were told you might be willing to purchase,” Wodyn offered.
“Yes, I know,” the woman replied. “We often buy such things, then pass them on to other buyers. You won’t get market price, but it’s the best you’ll do in this town. Let me see the item.”
Wodyn passed the sickle over, and the woman examined it, offering it to one of her companions, who also looked it over closely. Then, after a few moments bargaining with Wodyn, they settled on a price of 500 platinum coins.
“Is there anything else?” the woman asked, when she had passed over their payment.
“No,” Wodyn said, rising to leave.
“You understand if you speak one word about us to anyone, we’ll have you killed,” she concluded matter-of-factly.
“Na’er heard o’ye, lassie,” Olgar said, and they departed.
Once upstairs, they divided up the platinum coins, a hundred coins per, and split up to do some shopping on their own. Belarn headed back inside, ostensibly to browse the lingerie aisle, but Olgar had overheard him talking about poison earlier in the day.
Olgar took his share and searched out the finest smith he could find. By the time he returned to the Lit Lantern, he had exchanged his battered suit of scale mail for a nicely made suit of steel banded armor, and replaced his simple but serviceable crossbow with a much more finely crafted model.
Easy come, easy go, he mused. Time t’ smite some greenies!
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
Chpt 4, finis.
The next morning they again assembled in the common room of the Lit Lantern, and then departed, following Johann’s directions. They soon found his house, by the east gate of the city, and walked around it to examine it.
Their curiosity soon attracted a pair of guards from the east gate. The two burly, mailed men strolled up, inquiring “And what do you think you’re doing?”
“Examining this house for the owner.” Wodyn replied. “He had a problem with some goblins, and was afraid to come back. He asked us to take a look first.”
“He should have come to the watch, first,” the guard replied haughtily. “There’s nought that rabble like you will be able to solve. Go on then, do your investigation. We’ll be watching you from the gate. Report anything you find to us, first.” He strolled back to his post.
“Aye, ranger,” Wodyn said to Strithe and Wodyn, “do yer ranger thing. Look fer tracks ‘n all.”
There were the marks of many goblin feet around the building. They went through the back garden, and over the city wall at the rear of the garden, out on to open pasture. The party left the city through the gate, and picked the trail up on the outside of the wall. The tracks headed to the northeast, across the pastures away from the city.
Strithe kept an eye on the trail, as the others went back into town to retrieve their assorted mounts. Once mounted, they followed the trail out of town and into the farmland beyond.
They had traveled about eight miles beyond the city walls when the tracks ended at an old farmstead. The place looked deserted – nothing moved about the large house or barn, no livestock were grazing or in the corral. The windows on the house weren’t boarded up, though, so the place had likely not been deliberately abandoned.
The adventurers dismounted to take a closer look at the place. The majority of the tracks seemed to lead straight to the farmhouse door.
“Cats!” Strithe suddenly hissed. Olgar turned. A pair of large, odd-looking cats were stalking slowly toward them. They were lion sized, with dark spots speckled over tan fur. The beasts showed large teeth and non-retractile claws. Their heads looked odd, as if the skin on them was too large for their skulls. A quick glance around revealed that while there were two approaching slowly in the open, five more of the beasts surrounded them.
“Into the house – quick!” Wodyn called, and the group ran for the front door as their mounts whinnied in fear and bolted back to the west. They just made the front door, diving in and slamming it behind them, as the lead cat let our a howl and sprang at them, snapping at Belarn’s heels.
Catching his breath, Olgar turned and leaned against the door, looking at the interior of the farmhouse. It was a single, large room, about fifty feet on a side. All of what had been furniture was smashed to splinters about the floor. But that was the least remarkable thing about the place.
“I think we found ‘r greenies,” Olgar whispered. Twenty pairs of eyes looked back at him, staring out of the heads of a number of short green-skinned humanoids with pointed ears and bad teeth. Most of them held some sort of weapon – a crooked spear or wicked looking short sword. Standing in the center of the room, towering over the smaller goblins, was a huge specimen over six feet tall. It had the same basic build, green skin, and pointed ears, but also had a coat of brownish fur – a bugbear! The creature was holding a long, finely crafted sword in two hands.
“Er, greetings,” Strithe said, speaking in the Goblin tongue. “We are seeking a lost sword, and have heard that you may know of it.”
“This sword?” the bugbear replied in broken Common, waving it about. Electrical discharges crackled up and down the blade, and the goblins in the room tittered and cackled. “Grog be keeping. Drop weapons and gold, and Grog let you live!”
“I don’t think so,” Belarn muttered, releasing an arrow into their midst.
The goblins charged, quickly surrounding the entire party, pushing them into a small cluster by the door. Luckily, the first wave of attackers were rather small and weak, and were not able to penetrate any of the adventurers’ armor with their little swords. The bugbear remained in pace, laughing, while behind him an oddly dressed goblin began chanting something in its own language.
Belarn dove and tumbled, bouncing up behind a goblin that was facing Strithe. Two quick thrusts of a dagger, and the goblin collapsed to the floor. Strithe meanwhile was launching arrows into the throng of creatures, and Wodyn was swinging and the three who surrounded him, trying to clear a path to get at the bugbear.
Suddenly there was a flash of light and heat, and half of the goblins collapsed, forming piles of little goblin corpses on the floor. Nelum had thrown one of the gemstones from the magic amulet, and the resulting fireball had wiped out most of the goblins. The bugbear looked lightly toasted, and swung his sword in anger. Likewise, the chanting goblin and two of its bodyguards remained standing in the center of the blast. The goblins closest to the group, who were outside the magical blast, attacked in a frenzy.
Olgar ducked and weaved, calling a sword of spiritual energy into being, that he sent to attack the bugbear. He then pulled his own sword, and slashed the legs out from under a goblin that was threatening him.
The bugbear charged, hitting Wodyn twice in quick succession, cutting into the bug man’s armor and leaving gaping wounds in his arms and torso. The creature left himself open, though, as Belarn tumbled behind him and stabbed him it the back of the knees with his magical dagger.
Olgar jumped over the body of a goblin, striking the bugbear with his own sword and the spiritual weapon. The bugbear collapsed in a heap.
Strithe bounded forward and scooped up the sword the bugbear had been using. Before the others could act, he pointed it at one of the remaining goblins and said “Drop your weapons and we’ll let you live.” Short swords clattered to the floor, and the six remaining goblins lifted their arms in surrender.
“Oughta just get rid o’em,” Olgar offered, as Strithe and Wodyn rounded up the prisoners and tied them securely ina group in the center of the room. “What’re we gonna do, just leave ‘em? They’ll be back raiding when th’ rest o’ th’ clan returns.”
“I gave my word,” Strithe replied. He held a brief conversation in Goblin with the prisoners, then turned to the others. “They say they’re the only ones left of the tribe. The cats killed and ate the rest.”
“Ye’ll believe th’ word o’ a greenie who’s jus’ tryin’ t’ save its skin?” Olgar asked incredulously. “Fine, have it yer way, then, but don’ blame me iff’n we see these greenies again.” He concentrated on healing Wodyn’s wounds with his healing wand.
“We have a problem,” Nelum said. He was standing by one of the windows, peeking out from between the closed shutters. “Those cats – they’re called krenshars, by the way – are still out there. It looks like they’re waiting for us to come out. They look hungry.”
Olgar looked around the room. There was no other exit – just the one door and a number of windows.
“We won’t make it if we run for it,” Wodyn said.
“Toss ‘em a dead greenie,” Olgar suggested. “Mebbe once they’ve had their fill they’ll go away. Or maybe a live one.” This last while glaring at the prisoners.
Wodyn shrugged, and then took a toasted goblin corpse and pushed it through the door, which he opened a crack and slammed again.
“One’s sniffing it …” Nelum observed through the window, “… no, they don’t seem interested. Guess they want live meat.”
“Give ‘em the greenies,” Olgar suggested again.
“No, we’ll have to fight our way out,” Wodyn said. “Nelum, use your necklace. Maybe you can get most of them, or scare them off.”
Nelum nodded, and prepared to open the window to throw one of the magical gemstones out. Olgar cocked his crossbow and crouched down behind the prisoners, covering Nelum at the window.
Nelum flung the window wide and tossed the small gem out into the group of cats. Olgar could hear them scraming and wailing as the gem went off, but at least one cat was untouched, because it bounded in through the open window, knocking Nelum to the floor. Olgar immediately fired, and his bolt caught the cat in the throat, killing it. Wodyn rushed forward and slammed the window shut, then dragged Nelum out from under the cat corpse.
The other window, on the opposite side of the door, then burst open, as a singed cat jumped through it, landing full in the room. It turned and screamed at Wodyn, who rushed it and received a mauling in return. Nelum, who had by this time recovered both his feet and his wits, launched a bolt of magical energy at the beast, which knocked it to the ground. The krenshar did not get up.
After a few moments, it became clear that those were the last of the beasts. Everyone caught their breath, and then, leaving the six goblins tied up, they returned to Oerid, carrying the recovered sword.
Johann met them back at the Lit Lantern, and was overjoyed at the return of his heirloom sword. He paid their fee, with a promise that they would say nothing more of this to anyone.
Olgar was examining the want ads again. “Says here someone’s havin’ a problem with some lizardmen …”
TO BE CONTINUED …
The next morning they again assembled in the common room of the Lit Lantern, and then departed, following Johann’s directions. They soon found his house, by the east gate of the city, and walked around it to examine it.
Their curiosity soon attracted a pair of guards from the east gate. The two burly, mailed men strolled up, inquiring “And what do you think you’re doing?”
“Examining this house for the owner.” Wodyn replied. “He had a problem with some goblins, and was afraid to come back. He asked us to take a look first.”
“He should have come to the watch, first,” the guard replied haughtily. “There’s nought that rabble like you will be able to solve. Go on then, do your investigation. We’ll be watching you from the gate. Report anything you find to us, first.” He strolled back to his post.
“Aye, ranger,” Wodyn said to Strithe and Wodyn, “do yer ranger thing. Look fer tracks ‘n all.”
There were the marks of many goblin feet around the building. They went through the back garden, and over the city wall at the rear of the garden, out on to open pasture. The party left the city through the gate, and picked the trail up on the outside of the wall. The tracks headed to the northeast, across the pastures away from the city.
Strithe kept an eye on the trail, as the others went back into town to retrieve their assorted mounts. Once mounted, they followed the trail out of town and into the farmland beyond.
They had traveled about eight miles beyond the city walls when the tracks ended at an old farmstead. The place looked deserted – nothing moved about the large house or barn, no livestock were grazing or in the corral. The windows on the house weren’t boarded up, though, so the place had likely not been deliberately abandoned.
The adventurers dismounted to take a closer look at the place. The majority of the tracks seemed to lead straight to the farmhouse door.
“Cats!” Strithe suddenly hissed. Olgar turned. A pair of large, odd-looking cats were stalking slowly toward them. They were lion sized, with dark spots speckled over tan fur. The beasts showed large teeth and non-retractile claws. Their heads looked odd, as if the skin on them was too large for their skulls. A quick glance around revealed that while there were two approaching slowly in the open, five more of the beasts surrounded them.
“Into the house – quick!” Wodyn called, and the group ran for the front door as their mounts whinnied in fear and bolted back to the west. They just made the front door, diving in and slamming it behind them, as the lead cat let our a howl and sprang at them, snapping at Belarn’s heels.
Catching his breath, Olgar turned and leaned against the door, looking at the interior of the farmhouse. It was a single, large room, about fifty feet on a side. All of what had been furniture was smashed to splinters about the floor. But that was the least remarkable thing about the place.
“I think we found ‘r greenies,” Olgar whispered. Twenty pairs of eyes looked back at him, staring out of the heads of a number of short green-skinned humanoids with pointed ears and bad teeth. Most of them held some sort of weapon – a crooked spear or wicked looking short sword. Standing in the center of the room, towering over the smaller goblins, was a huge specimen over six feet tall. It had the same basic build, green skin, and pointed ears, but also had a coat of brownish fur – a bugbear! The creature was holding a long, finely crafted sword in two hands.
“Er, greetings,” Strithe said, speaking in the Goblin tongue. “We are seeking a lost sword, and have heard that you may know of it.”
“This sword?” the bugbear replied in broken Common, waving it about. Electrical discharges crackled up and down the blade, and the goblins in the room tittered and cackled. “Grog be keeping. Drop weapons and gold, and Grog let you live!”
“I don’t think so,” Belarn muttered, releasing an arrow into their midst.
The goblins charged, quickly surrounding the entire party, pushing them into a small cluster by the door. Luckily, the first wave of attackers were rather small and weak, and were not able to penetrate any of the adventurers’ armor with their little swords. The bugbear remained in pace, laughing, while behind him an oddly dressed goblin began chanting something in its own language.
Belarn dove and tumbled, bouncing up behind a goblin that was facing Strithe. Two quick thrusts of a dagger, and the goblin collapsed to the floor. Strithe meanwhile was launching arrows into the throng of creatures, and Wodyn was swinging and the three who surrounded him, trying to clear a path to get at the bugbear.
Suddenly there was a flash of light and heat, and half of the goblins collapsed, forming piles of little goblin corpses on the floor. Nelum had thrown one of the gemstones from the magic amulet, and the resulting fireball had wiped out most of the goblins. The bugbear looked lightly toasted, and swung his sword in anger. Likewise, the chanting goblin and two of its bodyguards remained standing in the center of the blast. The goblins closest to the group, who were outside the magical blast, attacked in a frenzy.
Olgar ducked and weaved, calling a sword of spiritual energy into being, that he sent to attack the bugbear. He then pulled his own sword, and slashed the legs out from under a goblin that was threatening him.
The bugbear charged, hitting Wodyn twice in quick succession, cutting into the bug man’s armor and leaving gaping wounds in his arms and torso. The creature left himself open, though, as Belarn tumbled behind him and stabbed him it the back of the knees with his magical dagger.
Olgar jumped over the body of a goblin, striking the bugbear with his own sword and the spiritual weapon. The bugbear collapsed in a heap.
Strithe bounded forward and scooped up the sword the bugbear had been using. Before the others could act, he pointed it at one of the remaining goblins and said “Drop your weapons and we’ll let you live.” Short swords clattered to the floor, and the six remaining goblins lifted their arms in surrender.
“Oughta just get rid o’em,” Olgar offered, as Strithe and Wodyn rounded up the prisoners and tied them securely ina group in the center of the room. “What’re we gonna do, just leave ‘em? They’ll be back raiding when th’ rest o’ th’ clan returns.”
“I gave my word,” Strithe replied. He held a brief conversation in Goblin with the prisoners, then turned to the others. “They say they’re the only ones left of the tribe. The cats killed and ate the rest.”
“Ye’ll believe th’ word o’ a greenie who’s jus’ tryin’ t’ save its skin?” Olgar asked incredulously. “Fine, have it yer way, then, but don’ blame me iff’n we see these greenies again.” He concentrated on healing Wodyn’s wounds with his healing wand.
“We have a problem,” Nelum said. He was standing by one of the windows, peeking out from between the closed shutters. “Those cats – they’re called krenshars, by the way – are still out there. It looks like they’re waiting for us to come out. They look hungry.”
Olgar looked around the room. There was no other exit – just the one door and a number of windows.
“We won’t make it if we run for it,” Wodyn said.
“Toss ‘em a dead greenie,” Olgar suggested. “Mebbe once they’ve had their fill they’ll go away. Or maybe a live one.” This last while glaring at the prisoners.
Wodyn shrugged, and then took a toasted goblin corpse and pushed it through the door, which he opened a crack and slammed again.
“One’s sniffing it …” Nelum observed through the window, “… no, they don’t seem interested. Guess they want live meat.”
“Give ‘em the greenies,” Olgar suggested again.
“No, we’ll have to fight our way out,” Wodyn said. “Nelum, use your necklace. Maybe you can get most of them, or scare them off.”
Nelum nodded, and prepared to open the window to throw one of the magical gemstones out. Olgar cocked his crossbow and crouched down behind the prisoners, covering Nelum at the window.
Nelum flung the window wide and tossed the small gem out into the group of cats. Olgar could hear them scraming and wailing as the gem went off, but at least one cat was untouched, because it bounded in through the open window, knocking Nelum to the floor. Olgar immediately fired, and his bolt caught the cat in the throat, killing it. Wodyn rushed forward and slammed the window shut, then dragged Nelum out from under the cat corpse.
The other window, on the opposite side of the door, then burst open, as a singed cat jumped through it, landing full in the room. It turned and screamed at Wodyn, who rushed it and received a mauling in return. Nelum, who had by this time recovered both his feet and his wits, launched a bolt of magical energy at the beast, which knocked it to the ground. The krenshar did not get up.
After a few moments, it became clear that those were the last of the beasts. Everyone caught their breath, and then, leaving the six goblins tied up, they returned to Oerid, carrying the recovered sword.
Johann met them back at the Lit Lantern, and was overjoyed at the return of his heirloom sword. He paid their fee, with a promise that they would say nothing more of this to anyone.
Olgar was examining the want ads again. “Says here someone’s havin’ a problem with some lizardmen …”
TO BE CONTINUED …
Angelsboi
First Post
Seeting a few things straight ...
Not the Justice League but the Five Justices
It was a broach not a slate thingy
Brother Fransisco is the head priest in the temple of Veriday and it was not shut down, they are trying to shut it down though.
The only churches shut down was a casino hall named Fates Folley and a local hospital (the church of Curie')
The blind merchant DID indeed ask for a secret word (Drendari, the goddess of thieves and shadows)
and to Olgar, how do you know the Justices DONT know about the secret guilds and the adventurers tavern?
Not the Justice League but the Five Justices
It was a broach not a slate thingy
Brother Fransisco is the head priest in the temple of Veriday and it was not shut down, they are trying to shut it down though.
The only churches shut down was a casino hall named Fates Folley and a local hospital (the church of Curie')
The blind merchant DID indeed ask for a secret word (Drendari, the goddess of thieves and shadows)
and to Olgar, how do you know the Justices DONT know about the secret guilds and the adventurers tavern?
