Conclusion of ‘The Devil Box’
Session III
bad, bad things in tiny packages
After a few minutes and some selective cursing, Gwennid finally unhinged the bar and opened the door. Rough-hewn stone steps descended into darkness. The air was damp and thick, and smelled of mildew and decay. She struck a sunrod and crept down as quietly as she could. At the base of the stairs the corridor turned sharply to the left, and she could just make out the hint of an intersection of a few feet beyond the light of her sunrod. Motioning the rest to wait, she crept forward.
“The kobolds have lied to you,” said the voice,
“it is you they intend to imprison, and so blindly you walked right into their trap.”
Gwennid filled with rage. ‘Those dirty, sneaky little bastards,’ she thought. Sword in hand, she turned on Hulgor, who blocked her path to the three unsuspecting kobolds.
“Out of my way,” she demanded. “We’ve been tricked!”
Hulgor was taken aback. “Huh? What are you talking about, Gwen?”
The change in her was immediate; Hulgor could sense that something was not quiet right. He broke out in a nervous sweat as he quickly considered his options. Something devious was afoot, and if he didn’t figure it out quickly, things could get messy in a hurry.
“Those dirty kobolds! That’s what I’m talking about. Don’t you see? They led us into a trap, Hulgor. It’s not demons they want to catch, it’s us!”
“No, no!” Raspit squealed in a panicked voice. “It’s the devils, they use trickses, and wicked, nasty magics! We are friends! We no use trickses!” The other kobolds hopped up and down in hurried agreement. Lumbie turned ghostly white, which Hulgor didn’t even think was possible for kobolds to do.
He attempted to buy some time by stalling her, “Are you sure about this, Gwen? I mean, they’ve been pretty ok so far…for kobolds and all.”
“Yes I’m sure! Didn’t you hear the voice? Now, GET OUT OF MY WAY!” she ordered, furious with the half-orc. ‘Why didn’t he understand?’ She thought.
She tried to push her way past her hulking friend, but he planted his feet and refused to budge. He wasn’t sure who to believe, but he was not about to let her loose on the kobolds in this dark tunnel. If they started fighting amongst themselves and those devils were around, they’d be in a real pickle. Suddenly, he saw a flash of movement behind her. "
OW!" Gwennid shrieked as a burst of pain shot up her back, a look of shock crossed her face.
“Something stung me!” she complained, rubbing her backside.
Hulgor took advantage of her momentary lapse and rushed her, pushing her all the way past the intersection and into a small cul-de-sac, where she landed hard on her rear.
“Go!” he shouted over his shoulder at the kobolds. “Lumbie, sing that song, quickly!”
The three kobolds did as they were ordered and raced the corner. The sounds of combat quickly ensued.
When she landed, Gwennid came to her senses. “What happened?” she asked, trying to rub away the sharp pain in her bottom.
“Uh…didn’t you see it? The devil…it ran at us and knocked you back. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen!” Hulgor scratched his ear and smiled dumbly.
Gwennid’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Are you sure? I think I’d remember that.”
“Yep, that’s what happened alright. Well, don’t just sit there! We need to help the kobolds before it’s too late.”
Hulgor yanked her up by the hand and the two sped around the corner and found themselves in a large, well-adorned room. A banquet table dominated the center of the room. A kingly feast was spread out upon it, and three large jars of wine were set on the far side. Fine tapestries decorated the walls, plush carpets covered the floors, and a gold painted throne sat in a corner.
At the entrance to the room a pitched battle was in progress. Raspit and Chupo were in heated combat with two devils, one with wings and a barbed tail, the other covered in chains and floating in mid-air. The kobolds ducked and weaved and shouted courageously, but were clearly outmatched by the devils. Behind them, Lumbie sat on the ground in front of the Devil Box, intently concentrating on words written on the side, trying to memorize them so he made no mistakes.
Hulgor drew his axe and leapt into the fray. He focused on the devil wrapped in chains, as it appeared to be the leader and most dangerous of the two. It was preoccupied with Raspit, so he had a clear shot at the tiny devil’s head. He lifted his axe and came down with all of his might. The blow was lined up perfectly, and would have split the creature in twain had it not turned the axe blade with a casual backhand.
Hulgor gulped, and his eyes grew large as saucers.
“Lumbie! Sing the bloody song!” he shouted.
Lumbie snapped up and drew in a breath. Sweat was pouring off him in sheets.
In a surprisingly good baritone, he sang the following poem:
“Devil Box, devil box
Trusting strong locks
Take him in, long to keep
Tiny, small, asleep.”
For a split second, everything slowed to a standstill. Gwennid held her breath.
Realization dawned on the devils, and they let out a shrill cry of such intensity and frenzied hate that even in the streets far above people drew their cloaks about them and cast uneasy glances at one another.
Inside the throne room, the devils unleashed all their fury upon our heroes and their allies. Raspit screamed in pain as the winged devil stuck him repeatedly with its barbed tail. He stumbled back but did not fall from the savage assault.
Hulgor was on the pure defensive. Razor-sharp chains lashed out at him, one narrowly missing his exposed throat. He ducked and parried, but it was simply not possible to avoid the flurry of attacks. Blood flowed freely from several smaller wounds. It was all he could do to keep the devil from slipping behind him and attacking the fat kobold. Even with Chupo helping him, they were no match for the vicious attack of the devil.
“Lumbie!” he bellowed. “Now! Do it again before it’s too late!”
Lumbie stammered nervously. This was just too much for his timid soul. His eyes darted back to the unguarded stairwell. Just a few steps, he thought, and he’d be safe and far away from those terrible monsters.
Gwennid knelt down beside him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“You can do this, I know you can, it’s in your blood, Lumbie. Just sing the song and it will all be over.”
Lumbie looked up at her, his eyes welling up with renewed courage. He stood, took in a deep breath, and sang with all his might. A clear, strong voice pierced the din of the pitched battle.
The door of the box sprang open, and instantly the two devils were sucked inside. It slammed shut and locked. Runes along the side glowed eerily and then faded. The sound of the devil’s screams reverberated off the walls, and then a calm set in
Lumbie collapsed, exhausted from his effort. Raspit and Chupo plopped down on one of the plush carpets to lick their wounds. Hulgor dropped his axe and bounded over to Lumbie, caught him up in his massive arms and swung him around in circles. The poor kobold’s feet dangled helplessly off the ground, he wasn’t quiet sure if the half-orc was happy with him or angry at him, so he just smiled nervously and prayed to whatever god kobolds pray to when they’re in the grip of intimidating, dancing half-orcs.
“You did it! I can’t believe it, but you did it!” Hulgor hollered. He sat the kobold down on the throne and slapped him hard on the shoulder, squeezing him with his massive hand.
Lumbie just sat there and smiled up at the jubilant half-orc and then gave Gwennid a pleading glance.
“Uh, Hulgor.” She said, taking him by the shoulder and leading him over to the table, “Let’s see if this stuff is worth anything.” Behind them, Lumbie let out a deep breath and slouched down into the throne.
As Chupo and Raspit, terrors already forgotten, attacked the banquet feast like the ravenous little kobolds they were, Gwynnid and Hulgor took stock of their new-found loot. The tapestries and carpets were obviously quite valuable, but how much so wasn’t clear to either of them. There was also a nice decanter, some silver goblets, and a few other items worth taking. They gathered up the booty and headed back to the surface.
Leaving the workshop, they heard the footsteps of a large crowd coming their way in a hurry from the end of the street. Gwynnid’s heart dropped to her feet, if the mob saw the kobolds, things would get ugly. “Hurry!” she whispered, “Around the corner of the shop and get out of town before they see you!”
The kobolds sensed the danger as well and spared no time making a hasty departure.
Gwen watched the trio disappear into the night. Chupo still guarded the devil box jealously, Lumbie walked with a newfound sense of pride as the other two clapped him on the back and chattered in their own foreign tongue. It would probably be the last time she would see the kobolds, and she felt a curious tug at her heart: she’d miss the little buggers.
The sound of approaching footsteps got her attention, rounding the corner were the twenty freed slaves, Mayor Ragwort Quietwide, Sheriff Tippling Retniret, several guards, Quigley, Morris, and Trent, whose left eye was completely swollen shut.
Trent pointed an accusatory finger at Hulgor. “There!” he barked, “That’s the one that hit me and stole Lizard-boy!”
Hulgor bowed up, “Did ya bring a steak for that eye, boy?”
Quigley tugged on the sheriff’s tunic, “They’re thieves,” he shouted, “arrest them! They kidnapped my poor Lizard-Boy and now we’ve caught them red-handed robbing Mr. Muddletude as well! Lock them up before they kidnap or rob someone else!”
The sheriff looked somewhat unsure, though no doubt the sight of them standing there, burdened with Muddletudes’ household goods was not helping their cause in the slightest. He looked at Quietwide, who started to raise his hand to speak, but was nearly bowled over by the twenty freed slaves who raced forward and completely surrounded the two suspects. They embraced the heroes, some of the weeping openly. Others clapped them on the shoulders and cheered. The crowd pressed in on them so tightly that they were almost forced back inside the workhouse. Somehow, the slaves managed to lift both Gwennid AND Hulgor on their weakened shoulders and carry them away from the workhouse. Revilers from the Shackling celebrations joined the parade, not caring what it was about, just knowing that something was going on and soon a huge mob of partygoers swept them down the street and away from the watch.
Quigley cursed and kicked the ground with the toe of his boot.
The next day…
After spending the night in drunken revelry, the two had no problems finding buyers for their goods in the packed city. The rugs and decanter went for substantially more than they hoped, and when all was said and done they had several hundred gold pieces between them. Needless to say, they had never seen so much money in all their lives. It was quite a healthy start for two young adventurers.
They both sent a good chunk of the funds back to their families at home, and then headed to the market.
Hulgor spent most of his newly acquired wealth on a brand new set of half-plate. He looked positively dignified, but inside the shining armor was still the same old Hulgor.
“About those tools I owe you…” he stammered as they stood in front of a merchant stall.
“I can get it myself, I don’t need
your money.” She replied curtly. “Besides, you should probably save your precious gold for the wenches.”
Hulgor’s jaw dropped.
“Yeah, I saw the way they crowded around you at the tavern, ‘Oh Hulgor, you’re so strong! Oh Hulgor, you’re so big and brave, how did you ever rescue those poor people from the terrible ratmen?” She teased, putting her hand to her cheek in mock admiration.
“It’s not my fault!” he stammered. “I didn’t go looking for them or anything… I was drinking!”
“Oh, so it’s ok as long as you’re drinking? I’ll keep that in mind next time.”
The merchant coughed discreetly and did a rather poor job of minding his own business.
Without bothering to look, Gwennid slammed down the gold, stuffed her new tools into her pouch, and stormed off.
Hulgor sighed, rolled his eyes at the merchant, and followed her.
When he finally caught up with the feisty redhead, she was at the end of merchant row examining a beautiful Palfrey. The stable master wasn’t at all happy with her offer thus far, complaining loudly and repeatedly about the many mouths he had to feed at home.
“I’ll give you 75 for him, and that’s my final offer.” She stated flatly.
The merchant threw up his hands in frustration.
“A horse? Whaddya need a horse for?” Hulgor asked.
“Well, I don’t want to walk all the way to Endhome, now do I?” she shot back.
“I dunno, I thought we were going to hire on to a caravan? We could just ride on one of the wagons or somethin’.”
“It’s not my fault you spent all your gold on armor. I don’t want to ride on some stinking wagon, got it?” she retorted.
“Yeah, but that means I’ll have to walk beside ya then.” Hulgor complained.
“I don’t see a problem with that.” She paused, “Alright, fine.”
She turned to the merchant, who was earnestly hoping this exchange would somehow turn things to his favor. “I tell you what, I’ll give you 150 for this one and the brown courser over there.” She pointed to a horse she looked at earlier.
“Absolutely not!” he bellowed. “I have children to feed! My wife will kill me if I accept your paltry offer.”
Hulgor choked back a laugh.
“Ok, 175, and throw in the saddles and bridles, and you’ve got a deal.” Gwynnid retorted, all business.
The merchant thought for a second, and then slammed his palm down on the fence rail. “Deal! My starving children thank you.” He said with obvious sarcasm.
Gwynnid winked at Hulgor and socked him playfully in the shoulder as the two rode out of the stables and down the busy street.
The next few days passed lazily by. They had plenty of gold now even after their purchases to enjoy themselves lavishly. When The Shackling ended, it was easy enough to find work on a caravan heading south to Endhome.
