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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4796757" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Hey, glad you're still following along, djordje! Not many readers left from the "good old days" of <em>Travels</em>. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /></p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 36</p><p></p><p></p><p>The campsite was good, with a nearby source of water, relatively close proximity to the main tunnel, and best of all, defensible. A crevice just too wide to jump bisected the small chamber, and a natural battlement of weathered stone formed a rampart in front of a hollow space maybe six paces across on the near side of the gap. Carzen looked around and saw signs of others that had used the place before; black streaks along the walls where lamps and torches had left marks, small bones and other detritus scattered in corners, and the faint but familiar stinks left behind whenever travelers lingered at a place for any length of time. </p><p></p><p>His body whispered the need for sleep, but he knew that Vhael wouldn’t let them linger too long here. The warlord was closeted with his war council over near the gap in the wall that formed the exit. Gral and Surina attended to his every word; Carzen didn’t bother trying to listen in. </p><p></p><p>He walked over to where Terrlen was sitting. The guide was wrapped in a cloak that seemed to cover him like a shroud, his weathered features just visible in the faint light of the miner’s lamp that illuminated their shelter. He glanced up at Carzen’s approach. </p><p></p><p>“Tough gig, eh?”</p><p></p><p>The man shrugged. “I’ve seen worse,” he ventured, when Carzen didn’t shift his gaze.</p><p></p><p>“So how far were we? To this Well of Demons, that is.”</p><p></p><p>“Not far. I’ve never actually been inside,” Terrlen admitted. “But it’s a well-known site in the Labyrinth.” </p><p></p><p>“Oh? Any idea on what we’ll face there? Other than demons, of course.”</p><p></p><p>Terrlen shook his head, but said nothing. Carzen tried a different tack. </p><p></p><p>“What do you think of our fearless leader?” he asked. </p><p></p><p>“He seems to know his business.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, sure. He’s led us out of a few scrapes, I suppose. Nasty business with those gnolls, eh?”</p><p></p><p>The man flinched and shot up so quickly that Carzen almost ran into him. “Excuse me. I need to… I need to take a piss.” He hurried over to the far edge of the camp, where a gap in the rampart offered access to the chasm. </p><p></p><p>“Right,” Carzen said, to his back. He glanced over and saw that Vhael’s little conference had ended; the dragonborn was standing alone by the exit, sipping something from a small cup that looked ridiculously fragile in his clawed hand.</p><p></p><p>“Hey, general! That isn’t coffee, is it? Been holding out on us?”</p><p></p><p>Vhael’s expression was inscrutable but Carzen was starting to be able to read the dragonborn’s looks. <em>Not that there are that many,</em> he thought, forcing his smile against the warlord’s cold stare, just to annoy him. </p><p></p><p>“It is a mild stimulant derived from the bark of the <em>wilanthas</em> tree,” Vhael said. “I believe it is somewhat toxic for humans, causing chills, muscle spasms, and riotous diarrhea. Would you like me to brew you a cup?”</p><p></p><p>Carzen smacked his lips. “Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll stick with my more familiar poisons.” Gods, he would have murdered someone for a flask of brandy. Leaning in closer, he said, “I think we might have a problem with Terrlen.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh?” </p><p></p><p>“There’s… something wrong with him. I can’t quite place it, but I get a feeling around him…”</p><p></p><p>“Indeed. Gral believes that he may be suffering from a lycanthropic curse.”</p><p></p><p>“A what?”</p><p></p><p>“Lycanthropy. A magical disease that causes the victim to experience involuntary transformations into a were-creature. I believe that werewolves are the most common example with which you might be familiar, but there are literally dozens of varieties.”</p><p></p><p>“Were—” Carzen began, but he cut himself off when he realized that his voice was too loud. Clenching his jaw, he began again. “And you just let him stay with us?”</p><p></p><p>Vhael drained the last of his beverage. “Do you know how to get to the Well of Demons?”</p><p></p><p>Carzen did not back down. “This is… reckless. I can’t believe it, you ditched the halflings for less than this, and we could have actually used their help. For this kind of thing…”</p><p></p><p>Vhael’s stare was like iron. “I did not ask for your counsel, lieutenant. I have made provision for Darkseeker, if it comes to that. Once he has helped us reach the Well, we can be done with him. Until then, you will obey orders and do your job, do you understand?”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, I understand, <em>general</em>,” Carzen hissed. Turning away, he strode over to where he’d left his pack. But he couldn’t help looking over at the chasm, where Terrlen stood, a vague outline at the edge of the lamplight. </p><p></p><p><em>Wonderful</em>, he thought grimly.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4796757, member: 143"] Hey, glad you're still following along, djordje! Not many readers left from the "good old days" of [i]Travels[/i]. :) * * * * * Chapter 36 The campsite was good, with a nearby source of water, relatively close proximity to the main tunnel, and best of all, defensible. A crevice just too wide to jump bisected the small chamber, and a natural battlement of weathered stone formed a rampart in front of a hollow space maybe six paces across on the near side of the gap. Carzen looked around and saw signs of others that had used the place before; black streaks along the walls where lamps and torches had left marks, small bones and other detritus scattered in corners, and the faint but familiar stinks left behind whenever travelers lingered at a place for any length of time. His body whispered the need for sleep, but he knew that Vhael wouldn’t let them linger too long here. The warlord was closeted with his war council over near the gap in the wall that formed the exit. Gral and Surina attended to his every word; Carzen didn’t bother trying to listen in. He walked over to where Terrlen was sitting. The guide was wrapped in a cloak that seemed to cover him like a shroud, his weathered features just visible in the faint light of the miner’s lamp that illuminated their shelter. He glanced up at Carzen’s approach. “Tough gig, eh?” The man shrugged. “I’ve seen worse,” he ventured, when Carzen didn’t shift his gaze. “So how far were we? To this Well of Demons, that is.” “Not far. I’ve never actually been inside,” Terrlen admitted. “But it’s a well-known site in the Labyrinth.” “Oh? Any idea on what we’ll face there? Other than demons, of course.” Terrlen shook his head, but said nothing. Carzen tried a different tack. “What do you think of our fearless leader?” he asked. “He seems to know his business.” “Oh, sure. He’s led us out of a few scrapes, I suppose. Nasty business with those gnolls, eh?” The man flinched and shot up so quickly that Carzen almost ran into him. “Excuse me. I need to… I need to take a piss.” He hurried over to the far edge of the camp, where a gap in the rampart offered access to the chasm. “Right,” Carzen said, to his back. He glanced over and saw that Vhael’s little conference had ended; the dragonborn was standing alone by the exit, sipping something from a small cup that looked ridiculously fragile in his clawed hand. “Hey, general! That isn’t coffee, is it? Been holding out on us?” Vhael’s expression was inscrutable but Carzen was starting to be able to read the dragonborn’s looks. [i]Not that there are that many,[/i] he thought, forcing his smile against the warlord’s cold stare, just to annoy him. “It is a mild stimulant derived from the bark of the [i]wilanthas[/i] tree,” Vhael said. “I believe it is somewhat toxic for humans, causing chills, muscle spasms, and riotous diarrhea. Would you like me to brew you a cup?” Carzen smacked his lips. “Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll stick with my more familiar poisons.” Gods, he would have murdered someone for a flask of brandy. Leaning in closer, he said, “I think we might have a problem with Terrlen.” “Oh?” “There’s… something wrong with him. I can’t quite place it, but I get a feeling around him…” “Indeed. Gral believes that he may be suffering from a lycanthropic curse.” “A what?” “Lycanthropy. A magical disease that causes the victim to experience involuntary transformations into a were-creature. I believe that werewolves are the most common example with which you might be familiar, but there are literally dozens of varieties.” “Were—” Carzen began, but he cut himself off when he realized that his voice was too loud. Clenching his jaw, he began again. “And you just let him stay with us?” Vhael drained the last of his beverage. “Do you know how to get to the Well of Demons?” Carzen did not back down. “This is… reckless. I can’t believe it, you ditched the halflings for less than this, and we could have actually used their help. For this kind of thing…” Vhael’s stare was like iron. “I did not ask for your counsel, lieutenant. I have made provision for Darkseeker, if it comes to that. Once he has helped us reach the Well, we can be done with him. Until then, you will obey orders and do your job, do you understand?” “Oh, I understand, [i]general[/i],” Carzen hissed. Turning away, he strode over to where he’d left his pack. But he couldn’t help looking over at the chasm, where Terrlen stood, a vague outline at the edge of the lamplight. [i]Wonderful[/i], he thought grimly. [/QUOTE]
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