Captain Anorak's Guide to Gaming
The Tower of the Obsidian Prince
by Lot Smordyce
Part 2
The four of them rode out into the Feening Wastes. The map showed a road leading to the tower, but the map was out of date. Traces of what had once been road could be glimpsed occasionally, showing them that they were going the right way. It was the first day, and they were riding toward their first landmark, a gap in a line of hills. The hills were not named on the map, and none of the party knew the name of anything in the Feening Wastes. They had been deserted far too long for memory.

They reached the hills. Traces of the road could be seen here, weathered blocks of stone poking out of the ground with plants growing up between them. The pass ahead was a dip in the hills, a low valley between two steep-side hills. They rode in. Something made a thump noise to their left. A boulder was rolling down the hillside. Above it was a big thing, shaped roughly like a squat, broadly-built man, but over ten feet tall.

'Ogre!' shouted Tholdak, stating the obvious. 'Ambush!' They struggled to get their horses out of the way of the boulder, and it rolled by, out of the pass the way they had come in. Another ogrish figure loomed up ahead of them. Tholdak jumped off his horse and pulled out his huge battleaxe. Glad of a bit of excitement after a tedious day's riding, he rushed forward roaring an incoherent yell. The ogre reached forward to squash him with its huge fist, and he buried the axeblade in its hand. The creature jerked its ruined paw back, gushing black-green blood, shrieking in rage and pain.

Behind Tholdak, Finandriol was chanting and gesturing. Then he pointed with both hands at the ogre which had thrown down the rock, and a ball of fire appeared between his palms and flew at hideous speed straight into the beast's chest. Its matted hair immediately caught fire and it began to dance around in agony, bellowing and beating ineffectually at the flames. It lost its footing and tumbled down the hillside.

Tholdak advanced on his opponent, and Ellion rode up, circling to the foul creature's side. Its left paw reached out to grab him. He pushed it aside with his shield and slashed at the arm with his sword, cutting into the elbow. While the ogre was thus distracted, Tholdak stepped in closer and swung his axe up over his head, bring it crashing into the thing's chest with all his might. The ogre fell onto its back, legs kicking feebly, both its arms, now maimed beyond recovery, flailing wildly. Its chest-wound spurted dark ichor.

Finandriol and Skarn rode out of the way of their ogre as it fell down the hillside and came to rest on the floor of the pass, still beating at the flames and ignoring all else. Skarn jumped out of the saddle, took careful aim with his crossbow and shot the thing in the neck.

As both ogres lay dying, the four quickly looked around for signs of any other attackers. There were none.

'What the fuck were they doing there?' asked Skarn in disbelief. 'It's like they were waiting for us.'

'Maybe they were lying in wait for, err... deer or something,' suggested Ellion.

'Deer? Have you seen any deer in these wastes? I haven't.'

'Mountain goats, then. Look, they were just predators looking for something to eat, alright? They weren't put there to ambush us.'

'How much game do you reckon comes through this pass? Enough to feed two ogres? I doubt it. I mean look around on the plain. Do you see any herds of moose or wild sheep around? What do these bastards live on, grass?'

'Maybe there's game around but they shy away from people, so we don't see them when we're riding through.'

'Why would they shy away from people?'

'Because people hunt with bows, so any animal that shows itself is liable to get killed.'

'But no-one comes here. This is an uninhabited waste. The animals here haven't seen people in centuries. Look, these ogres were waiting here for us. Us, particularly. Someone knew we were coming and they set us up. There's no other explanation for why they were here.'

'No-one but the monks knew we were coming,' put in Finandriol.

'Yeah,' replied Skarn with scorn, 'No-one but them and everyone in the inn where Ellion told us about the job. Fucking everyone in town probably knows.'

'What are you saying? asked FInandriol.

'Obvious, innit? Someone wants this mission to fail. That means they don't want the monks to find out what's really in that tower.'

'This is all bullshit,' said Ellion in disgust. 'We were in the wilderness and a couple of wild ogres attacked us. Simple as that. Don't make a conspiracy theory out of it.'

Finandriol looked thoughtful. 'Ogres only have animal intelligence. How would someone arrange for them to attack us? They'd have to be trained attack ogres. If they'd been brought here by special ogre-handlers, we'd expect to see some signs of it. And why use ogres anyway? If someone wanted to kill us off, why not send assassins with bows? That would be more straightforward, easier to do, and probably cheaper as well.'

At Skarn's insistence they searched around to look for signs of people. The only tracks they could find were ogre tracks, and these led to a cave in the hills that stank of ogres and ogre shit. Skarn had a look inside. The place was littered with animal bones. Skarn emerged, triumphantly clutching some bits of evidence: three gold pieces and a small piece of uncut topaz, which was worth maybe four GP. 'Look!' he said 'Since when do ogres hoard treasure? Where'd they get these, eh?'

'Maybe off someone they killed,' suggested Ellion wearily. This was really starting to piss him off.

'Who? This is the wasteland. No-one comes here!'

'We're here. Maybe someone else came by looking for the tower, a long time ago, and they got eaten by the ogres. It was so long ago that all their gear has rotted away and this is all that's left.'

'So why didn't I find a sword? Or a belt buckle? Are you saying that some treasure-hunter came by here with absolutely no metal on him except for three GPs?'

'Maybe it wasn't a treasure hunter. Maybe it was someone on the run from the law.'

'Same again. No belt-buckle? Nothing metal on him at all?'

'Maybe he was in rags. Maybe he was a beggar, with nothing but the ragged clothes on his back, no shoes even, who stole that money and then had to run for his life into the waste.'

'What, and he came all this way on foot? It'd take days. Why would he come here? Once he was safe inside the wastes, away from the law, he'd try to head back to a different town from the one he escaped from. Why would he head further into the wastes?'

'I dunno. Maybe he was mad. Maybe he wanted to cross the wastes and get to whatever's on the other side. I don't care, alright? I don't fucking know or care! All I know is, this stuff you've found comes from one of the ogres' victims, it's got nothing to do with us, and we shouldn't be wasting our time with it. So stop making out there's something sinister going on here, because there's not.'