Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)

[Lazybones]

Chapter 57

While the others rested, Kosk and Xeeta cautiously explored further into the cellar.

Bredan tried to join them, but Kosk ordered him to stay put. Even with Glori’s healing the smith remained weak, and the dwarf pointed out that in his current condition a runt goblin with a club could knock him again through Death’s door, and this time the bard wouldn’t have a spell to pull him back over.

Glori was hardly in better shape herself, and she remained with Bredan and the unconscious Quellan while the monk and tiefling went looking for the missing Northpiner boy.

Aware that they were hardly unscathed, Kosk and Xeeta began their explorations slowly and cautiously. After verifying that there were no more threats lingering in the cluttered confines of the goblin lair, they pressed on into the side passage they’d spotted earlier. Without Bredan there was no need to bring a light that would betray their approach, and without the metal-clad warriors in their midst they made barely a sound as they slipped forward.

The passage turned into a long hallway that clearly extended beyond the foundations of the estate house above them. The tunnel was packed earth, reinforced by wooden beams and thick planks that supported the ceiling at regular intervals. After a short distance they passed a small room on their left. The place was crowded with a massive bed that had been assembled from several smaller pieces of furniture.

“Looks like our friend Gakrak took his rest here,” Xeeta said.

Kosk grunted in agreement as he leaned into the room. He was greeted by a rich funk that seemed to confirm the tiefling’s assessment. There was an earthy mustiness under that reek that suggested that place might have once been an herb cellar. Bits of faded greenery were still visible in the packed dirt of the floor.

There was a chest near the foot of the bed, but Kosk ignored it for the moment, lingering only long enough to confirm that the room was empty before gesturing his companion on. They continued down the tunnel, which bent slightly to the left and then continued on for a good thirty or forty paces before ending in a door.

“This looks like a fairly recent addition,” Xeeta observed. “And rather slipshod work.” She ran a hand along the threshold, which had been hammered into place around several of the support beams that supported the ceiling. The door hung crooked, with gaps around the edges that were wide enough to squeeze her fingers through without difficulty. In place of a latch the door was secured with two wedges of wood that had been hammered into the jam.

“They probably took one of the doors from upstairs and installed it down here,” Kosk said.

“Makes you wonder what they were protecting, doesn’t it?” Xeeta asked.

“It could be another way out,” Kosk said. He pressed his face up against the edge of the door, peering through one of the cracks. “Light, and fresh air,” he said.

“Shall we see?”

“Get your blasting stick ready, just in case,” the dwarf said. He waited until the sorceress was in position, then used his staff to free the wedges holding the door shut. Once those were clear it opened with some reluctance, due to the poor alignment of the hinges, but Kosk got it wide enough to reveal what was beyond.

The tunnel continued for a short distance further before it culminated in a steep slope that rose up to a narrow opening above. The exit was surrounded by dense bushes that extended into the interior, but they could see a small patch of blue sky through the growth.

“Looks like this was a hidden escape route for the owners of the manor house,” Kosk said. “Not uncommon in these sorts of isolated settlements. Probably how the goblins came and went.”

“Avoiding the hazards in the manor,” Xeeta agreed. “Should we go back?”

“No reason not to,” Kosk said. “I never thought the kid would be here.”

They retraced their steps, and steeling themselves against the stench of the bugbear’s quarters they went back to the chest they’d bypassed earlier. It had a hasp lock that was broken and ruined, so they had no difficulty getting at its contents. Those contents included a heavy wool cloak that looked to be in decent shape, a bag full of biscuits that were the consistency of iron ingots, and a bulging sack. The sack clinked as Kosk lifted it, which proved promising until he opened it to reveal that it was full of copper coins.

“I guess Gakrak and his little band weren’t very good at banditry,” Xeeta said.

Kosk tied off the sack and looked up at her. “Don’t give up so easily,” he said.

The dwarf proceeded to tear the room apart. He poked through all of the bedding before separating the bed into its components, pushing them into the corners of the room. As he was doing that his foot scraped on something that drew his attention. The source turned out to be a loose stone that he pried up with one of Xeeta’s daggers to reveal a concealed space below. There was another chest in that hidden niche, this one banded in iron and with a fully-intact lock securing the front.

“Ah, that’s more like it,” Kosk said. Grunting with effort, he lifted the chest up out of its cubby.

“Should we force it open?” Xeeta asked.

“That may not be necessary,” Kosk said. “I think I might have an idea of where we’ll find the key.”

It only took a minute to confirm the dwarf’s theory. They went back to the cellar annex where they’d left the others and searched the dead bugbear. At first they didn’t find anything; Gakrak’s pouch was empty except for a sling and a few stones, and there weren’t any pockets in his bloodstained garments. Xeeta even pulled off his boots to check them, grimacing at the fresh stench that was unleashed. But Kosk didn’t give up, and finally he found the key on a long throng around the bugbear’s neck, tucked under his armor.

Glori had come over to watch them. “No sign of the boy?”

“He was never here,” Kosk said. “The goblin was lying.”

“We found a treasure chest,” Xeeta said.

“Oh?” Glori asked, interested. But Kosk insisted again that she remain to watch over their injured companions while he and Xeeta went to learn what they had found.

The key fit perfectly in the lock, and the chest opened to reveal a decent haul of loot. This time there were three sacks, filled with sorted piles of gold, silver, and electrum coins. Wedged into the back of the chest behind the sacks was a copper plate, which Kosk pronounced to be of little value, but under that was a small wrap of faded leather that from its feel had a few items inside. The throng holding it shut fell to pieces as the dwarf pulled at it, and he carefully unfolded the wrap to see what it held.

Inside the roll of leather was an ivory statuette, small enough to fit easily in Kosk’s hand. It had been carved into the shape of an armored knight, with an attention to detail that showed considerable craftsmanship. The dwarf stared at it for a moment before handing it to Xeeta.

“That’s good work,” she said. “What’s that there?” she said, looking back over his shoulder.

“Crossbow bolts,” he said, taking two thin shafts out of the wrap. Their heads were silvered and stamped with runes that looked obviously magical. “For the boy, assuming he ever gets to use the damned weapon.” He handed those to Xeeta as well, but before she could examine them the dwarf let out a satisfied sound.

“What?” she asked.

In response he held up two small metal flasks. Each was marked with a single rune that both adventurers recognized.

“Healing potions?” Xeeta asked.

Kosk gently shook one of the flasks to confirm it was full. “Aye. And unless they’re full of poison or something, it means we’ll get out of here sooner rather than later.”

 

[carborundum]

Huzzah! Something good happens!

 

[Lazybones]

Huzzah! Something good happens!

Not only that, but we're coming up on a level-up! I'm going to hold off on posting the next set of stat blocks for a while, however, since there are some story spoilers in them.

* * *

Chapter 58

Glori lifted her head and pressed a mostly-dry towel to her dripping face and hair. She glanced down at the washbasin and saw flecks of dirt and dry blood around the rim. The water that remained was cloudy. This was the third time she’d washed since they had returned from the estate house and the cellars underneath it, and she still wasn’t clean. She had a feel that it would be a while before she felt fully clean again, in a way that had nothing to do with dirt.

She looked up and regarded herself in the mirror over the small dresser that held the basin. The mirror was cheap and blurry, but it was probably for the best that she couldn’t see her own face clearly at that moment. Her clothes were new; the ones she’d worn to the estate were no longer fit even for rags. Maybe the villagers would burn them.

“You wanted to be an adventurer,” she said to her reflection. Her doppelganger didn’t respond, of course, and after a moment she sighed. She turned to the bed where she’d laid out her gear, but was interrupted by a firm knock on the door.

Her first instinct was to reach for her dagger, sitting on the bed in its scabbard, but she silently berated herself and with an effort of will went to the door. But she paused with her fingers on the latch-handle. “Who is it?” she asked.

“Quellan,” came the low rumble through the wooden panel.

She opened the door to find the cleric standing there in the hallway. He’d taken off his suit of scale armor, but he managed to look imposing even in a simple robe of undyed gray wool. He was carrying a parcel under one arm, a package that might have been bulky for her but which seemed barely an afterthought for a man of his size.

“Ah… I’m sorry, I wasn’t… do you want something?” she asked.

“Just a moment of your time,” he said. “May I come in.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” She stepped back to let him come into the room. “Sorry for the mess.”

“You should see the room I’m sharing with Kosk,” he said. He glanced down at her bed. “You’re keeping that sword?”

She looked down at the longsword that had been the property of Colum, before the giant mantises had done for him on the way to the estate house. “Yeah. Figured I could get Bredan to teach me how to use it. Don’t tell that local noble, okay? I figured he’d be the sort of guy to ask for it back.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He stood there in the center of the small room, suddenly awkward.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” she asked, nodding toward the parcel.

“Oh, this. It’s yours.”

She started to protest, but then saw what it was when he started to pull away the cloth wrapping it. Her eyes threatened to fill up, but she angrily blinked them clear. “How did you…”

“You left it in the pile with all the other extra stuff we brought back from the estate. I thought you’d want it back.”

She ran her hands over the lyre, her fingers lingering on the curve where the bugbear’s thrown axe had shattered the metal. It was now fully intact, and he’d somehow even found new strings for it. Her fingertips traveled reflexively to the strings, and while the instrument was out of tune it was otherwise as if it had never been damaged.

“How?” was all she could manage.

“I took it to the local priest. He knows the mending spell. It cannot restore magic items, of course, but…”

That pulled her attention from the restored lyre and she looked up at it. “The lyre’s not magical. It never was.” She turned away and laid it on the bed.

“You haven’t changed since yesterday,” he said. “Now you know the magic is in you, and not the lyre. You’re still the person you were before. The magic doesn’t change that.”

“I know that, intellectually, but I can’t help but feel different. I don’t know, I guess I’m not making sense right now.”

“Actually, it’s quite understandable,” Quellan said.

She gave him a wry grin. “Well. You’ve known that you’ve been a spellcaster for longer than I have.”

“While I can channel the power of my patron, I don’t consider that power to be the feature that defines me,” Quellan said. “I’d like to think that even without it, I’d be the person I’ve set out to be.”

“I’m sure you would,” she said. “Anyway, thanks. For the lyre. It was a nice gesture.”

“It was my pleasure. Are you going to come down and join us? As a priest I’m supposed to be above such things, but I must admit the thought of a hot meal prepared in an actual kitchen is quite appealing.”

“Maybe later,” she said. “I just need a little time.”

“Of course,” he said. He turned back to the door, careful not to jostle any of the surrounding furniture in the cramped quarters.

“Quellan?” she asked, causing him to hesitate in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“Thanks again.”

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 59

Bredan tried not to think about the persistent twinges in his belly as he made his way down the stairs. His wounds had all been healed, but apparently even divine magic could not fully erase the lingering effects of what had been done to him. But those persistent pains were offset by the feeling of relief at not having the weight of his armor bearing down on him. He was going to have to talk to the local smith tomorrow about repairing the gaping hole in the front of the armor, but for now he allowed himself an hour’s freedom of not worrying about the next day.

The common room of the inn was busy, but he spotted Kosk at once. The dwarf sat alone at a table that had a generous breadth of extra space around it. Bredan could have chalked that up to the monk’s splendid personality, but he thought he sensed something else in the crowd of villagers, a current of wariness and alarm that seemed to pervade the general mood. He supposed he could not blame them for being worried. It was one thing to know that you lived in a dangerous world, and another to learn that not one but two bands of hostile enemies had been living less than a day’s walk from your home.

He went over to the bar and asked for a mug of ale. Several of the locals sent respectful nods his way, but none tried to start a conversation. He handed over a few coins for the drink and made his way over to the table where the dwarf was seated.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Suit yourself.”

Bredan pulled back a chair and settled into it, ignoring the twist of protest in his gut. It faded quickly, however, and he was able to relax before he took his first sip of the rich local brew. “That is nice,” he said.

Kosk didn’t respond. A mostly-full mug sat next to him on the table. “Where’s Quellan?” Bredan asked.

“He said he had an errand in town.”

Bredan nodded and settled back comfortably in his chair, focusing on his drink. The silence stretched out between them, untouched by the low din around them, until finally Kosk’s face twisted up like he’d swallowed something unpleasant and he asked, “How’s your girl?”

“She’s all right,” Bredan said. “She said… she needed some time alone. I think what happened… it was hard for her.”

“You know that it’s only going to get rougher in the north,” Kosk said quietly.

“I know,” Bredan said. “She does, too. Said as much when I tried to tell her the same thing, when we got back.”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t regret leaving,” he finally said. “Everything that’s happened… even our decision to stay here and help these people.” He glanced around to make sure none of the locals were listening, then leaned forward across the table and added, “Even if we don’t find that missing boy, I think we’ve done something important here. I feel like… like we’re getting ready for something. Something important.” He snorted and leaned back in his chair. “I guess that probably sounds pretty stupid to you.”

Kosk’s expression was a neutral mask, but after a moment he shook his head. “No, it doesn’t sound stupid.”

“I suppose you were right before, about us not being ready. I mean, I almost got myself killed taking on that bugbear.”

“You did all right,” Kosk said. For a moment it looked like he would say more, then he looked up past Bredan and frowned. “Bloody hells,” he said.

Bredan turned just in time to see the front door swing open and a familiar figure come into the common room. From the soft titter that filled the room it was clear that Nordrum’s reputation among the village council extended to the rest of the village as well.

The sage saw them and made a beeline for their table. “Gentlemen,” he said. “I heard you got back. Your companions?”

“Busy,” Kosk said.

“Well, you can impart what I have to say to them.” Without asking permission he took the last free chair and sat down between them.

“Look, Master Nordrum,” Bredan said. “If this is about the missing boy…”

“I must be honest with you and say that I do not think that the poor youth is at the old ruin,” the sage said. “Though I believe that my fears about the site remain justifiable.”

“Hostile magic,” Kosk said.

“Not hostile per se, but certainly dangerous,” Nordrum said. “Please… I know that you have already made a significant detour from your objective to help the people of this town, but the ruin is not far, it would only take another day, perhaps two, to verify what I say is true.”

“We know something about ancient magic,” Bredan said. “What is it that’s at this ruin?”

“I am not certain,” the sage said. At Kosk’s look he quickly added, “Please, I beg you, hear me out. Yes it is true that the people of Northpine consider me to be touched in the head, obsessed. You will likely join them in that assessment if I tell you all that I know, how I was drawn to this place. Maybe I am mad, I don’t know. But if I am right, then this village may be in danger.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Kosk said. “Okay, you’re not certain. But what do you think is there?”

“Power. Lore of a bygone age. Writings… inscriptions, engravings, old books centuries old. Perhaps an artifact, something small, yet potent…”

“A crystal?” Bredan asked.

Nordrum gave him a steely look. “Perhaps. Why, do you know…”

“This is the first time we’ve ever heard anything of this place,” Kosk quickly interrupted, as much to forestall Bredan as to answer the sage. “If this power is so dangerous, how do we know that you can be trusted with it? Or for that matter, that we won’t simply take it and be on our way?”

Nordrum blinked in surprise. “I… you wouldn’t do that? Would you? As for trust… I know people who understand this power, and can keep it contained. It would be safe, both to the people here and from those who would use its power for evil.”

“Well, that eases my conscience,” Kosk said dryly.

“Please. I can pay you for your time,” Nordrum said. “Even if the ruin is empty, it would be a relief… just to know.”

“Just for reference, how much are we talking about here?” Bredan asked.

Nordrum took another look around and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’ve been here longer than I expected… drew down my resources… but you’re going to Adelar, yes? I can give you a writ you can cash out at the Mercantile Guild in the city for… five hundred golds?”

Bredan coughed and quickly took a sip of his drink.

“We’ll need to talk it over with our companions,” Kosk said.

“Of course. You know where to find me, if you need any more information. Here is a map to the ruin.” He drew out a tightly folded square of parchment and slid it across the table toward the dwarf. The sage waited until Kosk had picked it up before he got up and quickly left the way he had come.

“Well,” Bredan said. “That guy doesn’t seem all there.”

“He remind you of anyone?” Kosk asked. He held the parchment in his hand, but he didn’t unfold it.

“Who… Starfinder? She wasn’t like him.”

“Intensely dedicated, even obsessed. Willing to turn over huge sums to virtual strangers to brave a location they could easily walk to themselves.”

“Well… the shrine of the Eth’barat was dangerous.”

“I expect we’ll find the same if we go hunting this ruin,” Kosk said.

“I know we just found those sacks of coin at the mansion… but five hundred is a lot of gold. Assuming he was telling the truth about having the money in Adelar.”

“It’s not uncommon in the south for sums to be transferred that way,” Kosk said absently. “Even up here a man could find himself in a lot of trouble, throwing around the name of the Mercantile Guild without the credit to back it up.”

“So what do you think we should do?” Bredan asked.

Kosk looked down at his mug, and picked it up. “Like I told the sage. We need to talk it over with our companions. But first I think I am going to finish this drink.”

 

[carborundum]

Hints of metaplot, I love it!

 

[Lazybones]

You guys know I love my metaplot.

* * *

Chapter 60

The skies were clear as the adventurers made their third excursion into the wild country that surrounded Northpine. The landscape was familiar by now, low hills covered by fringes of boulders and dry growth, copses of trees that occasionally thickened into more substantial patches of forest, and the omnipresent prickleburrs and thorny weeds that lashed at their leggings as they walked.

This time they had no road or path to follow, and while they rarely encountered obstacles substantial enough to force them to retrace their steps, their progress was slow through the uneven terrain. But Nordrum’s research had apparently led to a fairly precise identification of the location of their destination, and they had little difficulty following the simple map—accompanied by a complex list of instructions on the back of the parchment sheet—that he’d provided them.

It was a warm day, and fairly quiet save for the occasional rustle of a small creature in the brush and the constant buzzing of insects. A single raptor hung in the bare blue skies above, seeming to monitor their progress through its territory.

Their surroundings were quiet, but the adventurers kept up a busy chatter as they made their way further from the village.

“So we don’t know exactly what we’re looking for, or even if it exists at all,” Glori said.

“That’s about the sum of it,” Kosk growled, swatting at a bug that persistently buzzed around his face. He caught the insect and crushed it, but within two steps another had replaced it, and he scowled.

“He seemed legitimately concerned,” Bredan said.

“If there is a dangerous magic here, this close to the village, it is our duty to deal with it,” Quellan said. “Left untended, minor threats can become major problems.”

“What do you think is there?” Glori asked. “Another artifact like the stone?”

“Stone?” Xeeta asked.

“Just another job,” Kosk said.

“A paying job,” Glori pointed out. “You think the sage is good for it, Bredan?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, it seemed like it. Kosk said that it’s common for folk to use notes of credit in the south.”

“That is true,” Quellan said. “I have even seen such notes at the monastery in Crosspath, from time to time.”

“Even if this sage is being honest about his finances, it does not explain his motivations,” Xeeta pointed out. The tiefling had let her magical disguise lapse shortly after they’d left Northpine that morning, but she kept the cowl of her cloak up despite the building warmth of the day, keeping her distinctive features hidden under the concealing fabric.

“We can reserve judgment until we see what, if anything, is to be found at this ruin,” Quellan said.

“I notice you didn’t say anything about the boy,” Glori said.

“The sage admitted that it’s unlikely we’d find him at this place,” Bredan said.

“It may be unlikely,” Quellan admitted. “But at least we will know that we investigated all of the options before we resumed our journey north.”

“At this rate the war will be over by the time we get there,” Kosk muttered.

Around noon the terrain became rockier, the trees thinning out and the tangles of dry brush becoming stringier and smaller except in deeper gullies where water tended to collect. That allowed them to improve their pace somewhat, though they remained alert to the landmarks that Nordrum had indicated on his map. According to the sage they should be able to reach the ruin before nightfall, although unless they found what they were looking for immediately it was likely they’d have to spend the night there. They’d brought enough extra supplies for several days of camping, just in case.

After a brief pause for rest and a quick lunch they continued on their way. With the sun beating down on them and few opportunities for shade the day quickly became oppressive even for those not wearing armor, and eventually even Xeeta took off her cloak. The tiefling looked self-conscious as she carefully folded it and tucked it through the straps of her pack, though they hadn’t seen so much as a single traveler since they’d left Northpine hours before. They knew they were only a few miles from the road that had brought them to the village, but it felt like they were in a true wilderness, untouched by the busy arts of civilized hands.

They were climbing a low rise cluttered with an assortment of large boulders when Quellan cursed and stopped.

“You okay?” Glori asked.

“Yeah. It’s my armor.”

Bredan came over and took a look. All of their gear was starting to look rather ragged. The dwarven smith in Northpine, Sindrix Strongarm, had done what he could to make quick repairs to Bredan’s mail and Quellan’s scale armor, but both suits needed several days of attention in a well-stocked armorer’s forge. Bredan said as much as he examined the half-orc’s armor and unpacked his tools.

“We can get our gear tended to more thoroughly in Adelar,” Quellan said. “They’ll have armorers there.”

“You might want to consider investing in something more substantial,” Bredan said. “A suit of half-plate would provide much better protection, and won’t be that much heavier or cumbersome if it’s crafted well.”

“That’s all we need, more metal clanking about whenever we move,” Kosk said.

Bredan looked over at him. “If it stops a spearhead or deflects an arrow, it’s worth it,” he said. “And we can afford it, what with what we found at the estate, plus what the sage promised.”

“Don’t count your riches just yet,” Kosk said. “I know that pile of coins seems like a fortune to you, but it won’t go nearly as far in a place like Adelar, especially with a war going on to drive up prices.”

“For someone who claims not to be interested in money, you sure seem to know a lot about it,” Glori said.

Bredan twisted a wire with a set of pliers and gave Quellan’s armor a quick tug. “All right, I think you’re good for now, but I should take another look at it tonight in camp,” he told the cleric.

“Thank you, Bredan.”

“Can we get moving now?” Kosk asked. “I’d prefer we find this place before nightfall.”

They resumed their winding course through the field of boulders, with Kosk in the lead and Xeeta bringing up the rear. “Speaking of riches, do you still have that odd key we found in the shrine?” Bredan asked Glori.

“The jade dagger?” she asked. “It’s wrapped up in the bottom of my pack. I haven’t found a place where I could sell it yet. I was thinking there would be jewel merchants in Adelar who would offer a good price for it.”

“Could be it’s worth a few hundred more golds, maybe?”

“Maybe. It’s difficult to tell with odd items like that,” Glori said.

“That is true,” Xeeta chimed in from behind them. “Sometimes there’s a collector who will pay many times an item’s raw value in precious metal or rare gemstone, just because it’s unusual or historically significant.”

“Hmm. I wonder if the sage would be willing to pay for it,” Bredan said. “Especially if this ruin and the… the other one are connected.” He glanced back at Xeeta as he changed what he’d been about to say, but the tiefling didn’t seem concerned at the edit.

“Maybe we should have Kosk appraise it,” Glori said. “Since he seems so knowledgeable about economic issues.”

Bredan barked a laugh, and Glori joined in. Even Quellan’s lips twisted into a smile, though he quickly hid it as Kosk turned around. “In case you lot have forgotten, we’re in the bloody wilderness, not a bloody tavern—”

He trailed off as a deep, guttural sound arose from behind a boulder the size of a cottage directly behind him. The companions shared a quick look then reached for their weapons. The noise wasn’t repeated, but it had sounded close, as if whatever it was had been directly on the other side of the massive stone.

Silent now, the companions crept forward to see what was ahead of them.

As they edged around the boulder they could see what looked like a small, temporary camp. A few nasty-looking furs had been tossed haphazardly among the surrounding rocks, along with a slab of wood that looked oddly out of place until a huge hand reached and grabbed hold of it.

The hand belonged to a massive figure that stepped into view as it rose up out of the shelter of the boulder. The companions’ jaws dropped as they stared up—and up, for the creature was almost twenty feet tall, with a bulk that caused the ground to shudder underneath them as it shifted its feet. It was clad in a clout of fur fastened around its hips, with fur leggings protecting its feet and shins. But its most arresting feature was its face, or more precisely the single eye set in the middle of it that blinked as the giant regarded the adventurers.

“Cyclops!” Quellan hissed.

“Um…” Bredan said.

The cyclops didn’t give him a chance to say more, as it lifted its club menacingly and roared, “Smash you!” before taking a ground-shaking step toward them.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 61

For a moment, the adventurers could only stare up at the massive giant in overwhelmed horror. For all its size the creature moved ponderously, and now that it was in full view they could see that it was injured. Dried blood covered its arms and torso, and half-healed scars crisscrossed its bare chest. The broken shaft of an arrow jutted from one bicep, the missile like a tiny sliver against its bulk.

But wounded or no, the cyclops was still a dangerous foe. As it took one more slow step toward them both Kosk and Bredan stepped forward, the dwarf spinning his staff, the smith unfastening his baldric with trembling fingers. But before either could launch themselves at the giant Quellan grabbed hold of both of them.

“We cannot defeat this foe! Run!”

Kosk shook off the half-orc’s grasp, but the delay had given Glori an opportunity to walk past all of them toward the creature. “Glori, no!” Bredan yelled.

Glori did not stop or look back. The cyclops looked down at her, the bard seeming pathetically frail in contrast to the giant. But before it could decide whether to stomp her or smash her with its club she took up her lyre and began strumming a melody upon it.

The music filled the air. The cyclops blinked, and the warriors likewise hesitated, wary of the danger but unwilling to jeopardize whatever it was that their companion was trying to do. Xeeta had already begun to retreat even before Quellan’s shouted warning, but she lingered about twenty steps away, her rod clutched tightly in her hands.

Glori continued to play. The cyclops shifted in a way that was menacing simply due to its size, but it did not attack.

Without stopping her playing Glori said, “No smash. Sit down.”

The giant blinked at her again, but looked confused until Glori nodded toward the adjacent boulder and made a sitting motion. To her companions’ surprise the cyclops turned and sat down. The boulder was just a bit too large for it to use it as a chair, but it settled its weight against it, lowering its club to rest at its side.

Glori looked over at Quellan and gestured with her head for him to come to her. Moving slowly, careful not to make any threatening moves, the cleric did so. The others remained where they were, but kept a ready grasp on their weapons.

“I’m keeping it calm, but I don’t think it speaks much Common,” she whispered to the cleric.

Quellan nodded. He looked up at the giant and spoke to it a deep, gravelly tongue.
After a moment, the cyclops responded.

Bredan sidled closer to Quellan, careful of doing anything that could disturb Glori’s hold over the creature. But the bard kept on playing softly, and the cyclops seemed, for the moment, to be quiescent. “What did it say?” he asked quietly.

“I asked him what happened, how he got injured,” Quellan said. “He said it was orcs. Many orcs.”

“Ah, that could explain why it reacted with so much hostility on seeing us,” Xeeta observed. Bredan started slightly; he hadn’t heard her approach.

“Don’t think for a second that this beastie wouldn’t stomp us all in a second if it got the chance,” Kosk muttered. “Giants will kill just for the sake of killing.”

“Where did this happen?” Glori asked. Bredan looked up at the cyclops in alarm, but apparently the bard could speak without disrupting her spell.

Quellan passed the question on to the cyclops in the Giant language, and after a moment it answered in a long rumbling line of syllables that sounded like a rockslide in progress. Finally the cleric turned to them and said, “He was at the ruin.”

“Big surprise,” Kosk said.

“Was that its lair? Did the orcs drive it off?” Bredan asked. “And how many is ‘many’?”

“You’re assuming this thing can count past five,” Kosk said.

“I got the impression that Corbrus is a wanderer,” Quellan said. “He is not from this region originally, but from the north.”

“A refugee of sorts, perhaps,” Xeeta said.

Kosk snorted, but did it quietly. “A deadly dangerous one. You may be on a first-name basis with the thing, but don’t think we’re all friends just because our girl’s got the pebble that serves as its brain ensnared in her magic.”

The giant rumbled something else, and Quellan answered. “He asked what we are doing here,” he said.

“Don’t tell him about Northpine,” Bredan hissed.

“He’s not an idiot,” Kosk hissed.

Quellan continued to speak. After he finished he said to the others, “I told him that we are hunting the orcs, who attacked some of our people far away from here.”

“Will he believe that?” Bredan whispered.

“Giants aren’t generally known for their sharp wits,” Kosk returned.

“Um, I think we shouldn’t stay here any longer than we have to,” Glori said.

“She’s right,” Xeeta said. “This situation is not stable.”

“We can’t let it wander around and possibly make its way to Northpine,” Bredan said.

“I agree,” Quellan said. “Glori, can you direct him to head a different way, away from the village?”

“Not without casting another spell, and that will end this one,” she said. “And there’s no guarantee the new one will work.”

“Right,” Kosk said. “We take it out, then.”

“How?” Bredan asked. “I can’t even reach higher than its legs.”

“Then you chop it down, and stab it when it falls,” Kosk said.

“Um… how good is its hearing, do you think?” Xeeta asked.

They all looked up at the cyclops, but it didn’t seem to be interested in their mutterings. But neither did it seem all that discomfited by its wounds.

“It’s too dangerous,” Quellan said. “Even with surprise, I’m not sure we could defeat this foe, at least before he could kill one of us.”

“Then we just leave it be, and hope it doesn’t head the way we came?” Bredan asked.

“Let me try talking to him,” Quellan said.

They stood back while the cleric addressed the creature in its language. The giant responded a few times, but mostly listened as Quellan spoke to it at length. Finally the cleric drew back and gestured for them to follow him as he backed off and then led them away roughly in the direction they’d been originally traveling. The companions kept on looking back, in particular Bredan, but the cyclops merely remained leaning against the boulder until they went around the curve of the next hill and it disappeared behind them.

“Wow,” Bredan said once they were clear. “That was impressive, Glori. I didn’t know you could do that.”

The bard stretched the fingers of her strumming hand and put her pick away. “I didn’t either, actually. I started playing the song that lets me charm animals… and I was able to, I don’t know, change it somehow. It was mostly luck, I think.”

“Your power is growing,” Xeeta said.

“What did you say to it?” Kosk asked the cleric.

“I told him that if it sees the rest of our army, to please point them in the way we went.”

The others all looked at Quellan for a long moment, then Glori laughed. “Deception, from you?” she said. “Now I’m the one who’s impressed.”

Quellan couldn’t blush, but he clearly was embarrassed at the comment.

“It may not believe you, or it may not care,” Kosk reminded them.

“All the more reason to finish our mission quickly and get back to Northpine, so we can warn them,” Quellan said.

“At least now we know where those orcs that the elven scouts were looking for ended up,” Glori said.

“First kobolds, then goblins, and now orcs,” Kosk said. “This bloody village is either the unluckiest place in the kingdom, or it’s cursed.”

“It may be that the conflict in the north is driving more humanoids into King Dangren’s lands,” Xeeta said. “This could be just the beginning of a disturbing trend.”

“We still don’t know how many orcs are waiting for us at this ruin,” Bredan said. “Or how fortified the place is.”

“It’s a ruin,” Kosk said. “From what the sage said, a very old one. There may be some stone walls left intact, but it will hardly be a fortress. As for the numbers, we know from the elves that there weren’t that many left after they ran them off from their forest up north. We can handle a few orcs.”

“Corbrus couldn’t,” Glori said.

That killed the conversation for a lengthy interval. Finally Quellan said, “At least we know what we’re getting into this time.”

“Let’s hope we don’t get in over our heads,” Bredan said.

“We won’t, if we shut up and pay attention to where we’re going,” Kosk said.

They took his advice and continued in silence, moving steadily deeper into the hills. High above them, the solitary hawk continued tracing lonely circles in the empty sky.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 62

“I don’t see any sentries,” Glori said.

“They’re there,” Kosk said. “Orcs aren’t the brightest, but they’re not that stupid.”

Glori sent a quick look at Quellan, but the half-orc acted as if he hadn’t heard the comment, staring at the ruin ahead of them with an intent look on his face.

Bredan shifted and stifled a sneeze. What came out was barely louder than their whispered conversation, but all of his companions shot him an alarmed look. With an apologetic look the smith drew back deeper into the cover of the fringe of weeds that protected their hilltop vantage.

“Let’s pull back before we do something to let them know we’re here,” Kosk said.

The companions carefully crept backwards until they were well behind the crest of the hill, then they carefully made their way back to the shelter of the copse of trees at its base. With the forewarning from the cyclops they had approached the ruin carefully, remaining in cover until they could locate a spot from which they could observe the site covertly.

The ruin was situated atop a low rise that was studded with boulders. There wasn’t much left, just a few crumbling walls and irregular foundations. On the northern end of the site, just beyond the ruins, there was a thirty-foot cliff that ascended to a truncated bluff overlooking the entire area. It looked like there might be the remains of another structure up there, but it also could have just been a natural feature. It would be impossible to tell for sure without getting closer.

What they could see were plenty of places where a watching orc could be hiding.

“I think we should approach from the east,” Kosk said as soon as they were under the cover of the trees. “There’s more cover that way and we can be on them quickly.”

“Perhaps we should not rush headlong into an unknown danger,” Xeeta said.

“It’s not unknown, we know they’re there,” Kosk said.

“But we do not know exactly where they are, or how many there are, or what traps or ambushes they have laid,” the tiefling explained patiently. “Let me scout ahead first.”

“You can scout?” Bredan asked.

“I have some small talent at avoiding notice,” she said.

“That’s something that will come in useful in this group,” Glori said.

Kosk looked doubtful. He didn’t say anything, but his feelings were clearly written on his face. Finally Xeeta sighed and said, “If it is still a matter of trust, after what we have been through together…”

“I trust you, Xeeta,” Quellan said. “See what you can find, but be careful.”

“Yeah, if you get into trouble, just yell and we’ll come running,” Bredan said.

The tiefling smirked at him, then slipped out of her pack. She put her folded cloak onto it, then slipped out of her tunic, leaving just a light undershirt that highlighted the curves of her form. The bright red tint to her skin covered her entire body; if she was self-conscious, there was no way of knowing.

“They’ll see you coming from a mile off, girl,” Kosk said.

Xeeta offered him a smile, then held her rod and concentrated for a moment. As she called her magic her skin began to darken, transforming into a mottled pattern of pale grays and browns that closely matched the dry growth and bare rock of their surroundings. Even the pale ivory of her horns changed to a tan that fit with her overall camouflage. Her remaining clothes were already dark enough that they did not spoil the overall effect.

“That is cool,” Glori said.

Xeeta smiled—even her teeth had darkened—then turned and darted off toward the curve of the hillside. She made barely a sound, and within twenty steps she vanished into the background of the landscape.

“Okay, she’s good,” Glori said.

“It won’t do any good if she steps on a deadfall or tripwire,” Kosk said.

“Should we go back up and watch?” Glori asked.

“It’s unlikely we’d see her, and if we raise any more dust by moving around we might alert our foes,” Quellan pointed out. “We’re close enough that we’ll hear if she runs into trouble.”

They waited there in silence, the shade provided by the trees offering only partial relief from the hot, dusty air. Bredan drank deeply from his waterskin and adjusted the fit of his baldric. Glori tested her bowstring and shifted her lyre so it wouldn’t get tangled up with the strap of her quiver. They’d already stored their packs in case they had to rush off into a fight, but as the minutes crept on the tension thickened.

“Shouldn’t she be back by now?” Glori finally asked.

“It’s possible that she had to circle all the way around the ruin to find a good approach,” Quellan said, but it was clear from his expression that he too was worried.

Kosk muttered something under his breath.

“What do you think, should we go take a look?” Bredan asked.

“That won’t be necessary,” a voice said from directly behind them.

They all spun in time to see Xeeta step forward into full view. Apparently she’d been able to approach to within five paces completely undetected. She maintained the mottled camouflage pattern of her spell, but once revealed they could see her easily.

“What did you find?” Glori asked.

“The ruin’s in pretty bad shape,” Xeeta said. “There’s not much left. There are two orc sentries in one of the more intact buildings. They weren’t all that alert, but they’ll almost certainly hear your approach. One of them has a signal horn.”

“Where are the rest of them?” Bredan asked.

“I didn’t see them, but there’s a cave entrance along the base of those cliffs, directly behind the ruin. There’s a clear path leading through the weeds to it, and a big heap of trash just outside. I couldn’t get closer without risking detection, but I’d say they’re very likely inside.”

“So we still don’t know how many we’re facing,” Quellan said.

“That’s why we need a plan,” Kosk said. “Surprise attack.”

“That would be a welcome change, us being the ones doing the ambushing,” Glori said.

“How close can we get?” Quellan asked.

Xeeta considered before responding. “Kosk was right about the best cover being to the east. But the growth thins out considerably once you get to the base of the slope leading up to the ruin. I’d say a hundred paces, at best.”

“That’s a real long bowshot,” Glori said. “We’d be lucky to score a hit at that range.”

“We could lure them in,” Bredan said. “Make them come to us.”

“What if they decide to take cover in the ruins, and shoot back?” Glori asked.

“That won’t be a problem,” Quellan said. “Orcs move quickly, and they’ll charge on sight.” He looked troubled, and after a moment Glori reached out and touched his arm.

“We can use that to our advantage, right?” Bredan asked. “Especially if we can hit them as they come out of the cave.”

“We’ll still need to deal with the sentries,” Kosk said.

“I can deal with them,” Xeeta said.

“You’ll be on the flank, alone,” Kosk said. “If you get into trouble, we won’t be able to get to you quickly.”

“I can take care of myself,” Xeeta said. “Unless you still don’t trust me.”

“We’ve seen what you can do,” Quellan said. “It’s just that we want to make sure we all get out of this alive.”

“Yeah, especially after last time,” Bredan said. When the others all turned and looked at him, he blinked and said, “What?”

“It’s a decent plan,” Kosk said. “All right,” he said to Xeeta. “Give us some time to get into position, then we’ll wait for your signal.”

“How will we know when you’re ready?” Bredan asked.

“Don’t worry, you’ll know,” Xeeta said.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 63

Xeeta felt a ball of tension growing in her belly as she made her way up to the ruin for the second time. She wasn’t worried—that worried—about the orcs. She had never faced one in battle, but she knew enough about them not to underestimate them. She had enough confidence in her own abilities to be able to deal with the two sentries, and enough faith in her new friends to believe they could handle the rest of the fugitive band hiding in the cave.

What concerned her was the energy she felt building in her blood.

The Demon was stirring.

It woke any time she used her magic frequently. It was unpredictable, and dangerous to both her and those around her, her Demon. She had lived with it ever since her magical talents had begun to surface when she was a child. It was a part of her, not something she could ever escape. The only solution she’d found was to avoid using magic entirely. That was an imperfect solution that had worked for a time. But being what she was, alone in a dangerous world, the denial of such an integral part of herself was not something she could long embrace.

And now she was here, once again in danger. Not alone, but she could not shake the reality that the closer she got to her new companions, the more likely they were to suffer from the secret she could not share with them.

She realized that her distraction was placing her at risk, and with an effort of will focused again on her surroundings. She was near the summit of the rise, on the outer edge of the ruin. She could see the cliffs ahead, and in the foreground the imperfect outline of the structure where the orc sentries were stationed. Had been stationed, she reminded herself. It would be foolish to assume that nothing had changed since her last visit. For all she knew there could be more orcs there now, a new shift arriving to spell the guards. Or maybe she hadn’t been as stealthy as she’d thought, and even now there were hidden eyes marking her every step.

That thought had her pausing again, and she had to berate herself mentally to resume her slow approach. She knew that her new spell of transformation—superior in most ways to the mere illusion she’d used before, though unable to affect her clothing—was almost spent, and while she could refresh it with a thought, it would deplete magic that she would almost certainly need in the coming battle. The orc guards hadn’t been paying attention earlier, but if one of them happened to get up and look around the spell might make the difference between being detected and remaining hidden.

She shifted her approach slightly to give her a view of the eastern side of the hill. She couldn’t see her companions, but she could guess at where they were. A shallow gully ran along the base of the rise, likely created by the rains that doused the region each spring. At the moment it was dry and choked with brown stalks that were easily tall enough to conceal a band of assorted adventurers.

She briefly debated trying to signal them, but decided against it. They would know soon enough when she acted.

Keeping low, she crept around to the rear of the ruined structure. The remaining walls ranged from low enough to step over to about five feet high, with enough gaps that they didn’t provide any real security against anything trying to get inside. But what remained was solid enough to offer decent cover. The foundation, cracked with weeds, was a square roughly thirty feet on a side, but there wasn’t enough left to indicate what the place had been or what purpose it had served when intact. Maybe it had been a military outpost back in the day of the defunct Mai’i, or maybe it went back even further, to the days of the old empires that predated the current human civilization that dominated the continent.

She realized she was stalling again in her musings about history, and after taking a steadying breath she carefully eased forward to the nearest of the gaps in the outer wall.

The orcs were exactly as she had left them, leaning redolently against one of the inner walls of the ruined structure. From their location they could have held a commanding vantage of both the southern and eastern approaches to the ruins, and a protected firing position from which to use the two crossbows propped up against the wall a few steps away. The orcs were awake and talking quietly; as she looked in one let out a deep guffaw in response to something his companion had said. They wore suits of armor crafted out of animal hides and scraps of metal that looked ragged and dirty even by what she assumed to be orc standards. From what the others had said, these orcs were the remnants of a tribe that had tried to raid the elven settlements in the forest beyond these hills to the north. One of the pair had a fresh bandage wound around its right arm, likely a wound suffered in the recent clash with the cyclops. Hopefully the giant had killed a bunch of them; it would make their job easier.

For what she had in mind she would have to get closer. Careful of where she placed her feet, she crept into the interior of the ruined building. There were loose bits of stone everywhere, and plenty of cracks deep enough to snag a boot, but she managed to cross to the far side of what might have been a small bedroom or sitting room. All that was left now was a small stone basin that protruded from the waist-high interior wall, carved with half of a face that was so worn down that it could have been almost anything.

She slowly lifted her head over the crumbling top of the wall. The orcs still hadn’t moved. One had taken something out of his belt pouch and was gnawing at it. The other perked up, interested. He growled something, obviously asking if his friend had brought enough to share.

Xeeta didn’t wait for the sentry to respond. Rearing up, she extended her arms over the wall, touching her thumbs together as she drew upon her magic. The movement drew the attention of the orcs, but they barely had time to register that they were not alone before a rush of flames seared into them.

As usual the unleashing of her magic for a moment obliterated all else but the glorious surge of power through her blood. But she was used to that, used to immediately pulling back from that wave of sensation to evaluate the results of her casting.

What she saw in this case seemed pretty gratifying; both orcs were down, their filthy garments coated in soot, their mottled hides blackened and crackling. But while the first stayed down, the second stumbled to his feet, letting out a sharp squeal of pain but clearly not so injured that he couldn’t fix his eyes on her. Through the vagaries of luck he happened to be the one carrying the horn, and while the device had been singed it looked like it might be functional enough to sound a warning.

Xeeta reached again for her magic, intending to finish off the wounded guard with a fire bolt. But before she could begin the spell she felt a rolling surge of power building of its own accord within her. It was the Demon, coming in response to her burning hands spell, seeking freedom. She tried to hold it back, but the wild magic would not be contained.

She screamed as fire exploded out from her in every direction. The fireball enveloped her, searing her as she had seared the orcs, blinding and deafening her with the ferocity of the blast.

 

[carborundum]

You'll know it when you...hear it.