Lenia’s sensei called her for tea in the garden. She entered the place
with a sigh of serenity. “Master?” she called.
He smiled and signaled her to sit across from him. “You have been here
and your village, correct?” She nodded over her simple cup. “A
narrow view of life. Well then, I think it would help you most if you went
out into the world a bit more. There is a betrothal announcement in ten days
in the halfling thorp of Jambo. It will be a good time to see things, and,”
he winked, “have a little bit of fun at the same time.”
She bowed and nodded, smiling at the honor.
Armen had been traveling for some time. He had made his way to Kallor via a caravan who was now traveling in another direction. The merchants welcomed him in the caravan because he was a paladin (they always brought good luck to merchants). Now he would have to find another party going to Jambo if he wanted to give the couple the Twins' blessings.
Rissa took the news with a smile. Being a halfling herself it did her heart good. Becoming a priest in the land of elves was all well and good, but they couldn’t cook worth a damn. This was an opportunity that she couldn’t pass up.
Tunley took the news with good cheer. A feast like that would welcome many a people, and many people meant entertainment and that meant a goodly amount of money to a bard of his standing.
Qillana turned to Reshtark with a gleam to her eye. “This will mean
money!” she told her Maeli friend. “All those crowds of people
with money…”
“All those distractions…” he finished for her and started
packing.
They all met at the caravan office. There were, despite their several inquiries,
no large caravans going that way, so they decided to accept each other as
companions as there is safety in numbers. The next day’s traveling was
spent in getting acquainted and picking who would stand guard with whom that
night.
A second day proved to be just as nice as the first and the group seemed to
become more friendly and they found that they had a lot in common. Qillana
and Tunley sang well together. Reshtark and Arman discussed favored weapons
and Rissa and Lenia kept their own counsel.
That night while Qillana and Tunley had their watch, Qillana heard a faint
rustling through the sea oats, then spotted a rather large snake slithering
towards the cookpot, due to pass right by Tunley as he tuned his lute. Not
wanting to yell and startle him into the snake, she grabbed her knife, kicked
Reshtark, and in what she thought was a low voice said, “We’ve
got a snake in camp!”
Most everyone heard and jumped to their feet grabbing weapons on the way.
Tunley jumped and landed right next to the great viper who reared his head
and hissed at the sudden threat. As the others came to surround the reptile,
Reshtark slashed with his axe, severely wounding it, but not striking cleanly
enough to sever it in two. Pained, threatened, and panicked, the snake struck
out at random sinking its fangs into Tunley’s arm. The pain of its fangs
was nothing compared to the burning of its poison as it began to course through
his arm.
Rissa pulled Tunley aside and laid hands of healing upon him that closed the
punctures, though the venom was still to be dealt with, now sealed in to do
its work-- grim irony from the Trickster. Reshtark struck, killing the beast
with a second blow of his axe. Everyone else turned to Tunley. “You
alright?” they seemed to all ask at once. Tunley nodded weakly, then
doubled over from the poison.
Reshtark leapt to Tunley’s side, “We must suck the poison out
of his arm!” He grabbed said arm and began to suck. Due to their differences
in size, the arm went all the way into Reshtark’s mouth.
“Uh, Reshtark, all you’re doing is giving him a hickey…”
Rissa said. The others turned away and laughed out loud. “The wound
has been closed. There is nothing to ‘suck out’-- unless you intend
to bite his arm open again?”
“Oh.” He said, releasing the arm. “Sorry.”
“How are you feeling Tunley?” Qillana asked.
“A little weak, but I think with some rest I can travel in the morning.”
The others nodded and Lenia took over his watch.
After several more days travel, Lenia noticed some movement up ahead. She
pointed this out and the others suggested that they were probably bandits,
but it was too early to tell yet.
They walked with caution. They watched as those off to the side bobbed their
heads up and down in the tuffs of tall grass. The troop nocked arrows and
readied slings anticipating the worst.
As they drew abreast of those off the road, a yell of pain was heard. Lenia
felt the impulse to run in aid, then realized that it was a ploy to ambush
them. Arman thought differently. As they scanned for signs of further torments
being inflicted, several wide froglike faces peered back at them over the
coral. Arman challenged them to release their victim (pretended victim, thought
Lenia); the Wugs challenged Arman to come free the fellow himself. With an
oath, the Paladin hefted his holy maul and charged into the brush. The others
in the troop followed suit.
Most of the missiles from either side went awry. Reshtark also charged into
the brush and cut down one of the “wugs” before the froglike bandits
could spring their ambush. Lenia and Armen took advantage of their surprise
and downed two of the villains. Qillana and Tunley’s arrows rained down
and hit several of the bandits, and Rissa called for the Trickster to grant
luck to her friends.
There was one wug larger than the rest, who snatched a sharkskin parchment
from his bag and read off a spell. Thick yellow smoke began to curl from his
ears and nostrils. He let out a curse and began to run. The few surviving
wugs ran too.
Most of the troop was willing to let them run having taught them a lesson.
Reshtark thought otherwise and ran down the spellcaster and bludgeoned him
into unconsciousness. He dragged the creature back to camp.
“And what are we suppose to do with that?” Qillana asked.
“Ransom him back to his tribe. Or maybe those in Jambo will give us
a reward.” Reshtark smiled.
“I hope you’re ready to take care of him in the meantime,”
she said.
Armen searched the grounds to make sure that there had been no actual victim
of the Wugs' torment. Lenia and Tunley went through the dead wugs' satchels
and found coins and gems, enough to pay for the trip. They carefully searched
for spellbooks, magical fetishes, and any other accoutrements the wizard might
possess. Meanwhile, the wug cursed himself for trusting the human traveler
from whose body he'd looted the scroll in the first place. With the wug leader
bound and slung over the shoulder of Reshtark, the troop pushed on. All of
them wanted to put some distance between themselves and those that had run
before they returned in greater numbers.
The camp was uneasy that night. Even tied up, the wug leader returned Reshtark’s
insults till he was intimidated into shutting up by the Maeli. Sly struggling
in his bonds, he returned Qillana's threats in turn till she came close enough
that he sprung a surprise grapple on her. The two tossed about till Qillana
finally got the upper hand and pummelled his head with the butt of her knife
until he was once again out. Angered, she staked the wug out on the coral
and told everyone else not to touch him.
The next day, the troop walked ahead of Reshtark who had the wug leader on
a neck rope. Lenia took up the rear to make sure that none would attack from
behind. Near midday, however, the troop once again saw furtive movement up
ahead in the brush.
“If those are your people, you had better tell them to let us pass or
you’re dead.” Reshtark threatened.
The wug shouted something in his own tongue. Qillana and Tunley’s eyes
go wide. Quietly they tell the troop that the wug actually said to wait till
nightfall to attack.
Lenia shrugged, “Then we set up an ambush of our own.” They all
nodded.
Reshtark roughly thrust the wug in front of him. “If anyone attacks,
you die first!”
“You are dead already, walking food,” the wug spat back.
As the troop approached the spot where they first saw movement, a shocker
lizard jumped out of the bushes and ran at them. A high, thin voice called
to the creature in the Dragons' tongue.
At this distraction the wug tried to run, but Reshtark had such a grip on
the rope that the prisoner ran till the end of the rope and choked himself.
Reshtark then ran to the front of the troops and readied his axe. Lenia bounded
to the front as well.
The voice was sounding more frantic as the two took swings at the lizard,
but were distracted by the laughter of Qillon and Tunley and they both missed
killing it. The lizard seemingly became confused and let out the electrical
arc for which it is named, sending twitches through Lenia's legs. Then it
ran back towards the voice as quickly as it had bounded out.
The troop readied for anything.
A still smaller voice announced in the tongue of men, “Inasmuch as you
have spared the life of his prized pet, Keeshma the Astounding has, from the
graciousness of his heart, given you your lives. Go in big pieces.”
There was the sound of a hard slap. “Go in small pieces.” Smack.
“Go in a piece.”
Kobolds rose from their hiding places that had encircled the troop, swinging
slings stones nervously. The ambush would have been a good one, if the troop
had not been on their guard. Reshtark looked from the Kobolds to the prisoner
and back again.
“Since Keeshma has shown such generosity, I give him this prisoner to
ransom back to his people.” He said.
Keeshma strutted out and placed a foot on the body of the unconscious wug.
The kobold leader seemed to swell to nearly halfling size, waved his hand
and his leashed Kobold interpreter said, “You may pass!”
“Then we shall go in big pieces.” Reshtark said, taking delight
in the exchange looks between Keeshma and his voice.
The troop warily left the area, and their prisoner, behind.
The rest of the trip was quiet to Jambo. Even from far away, Rissa could
smell the smells of proper cooking. The many tents showed colors not normally
found in nature and the laughter and talk of celebration were already starting.
The troop was as welcome as any other in this small farming community, which
had raised tents and sheds for visitors, guests, and witnesses of the betrothal
of the son of Otho Grandbelly. Just before the feast they decided to sell
the gems and split up the money. Qillana and Tunley were the best at haggling
and got a fair price for the gems. Lenia suddenly found herself with more
money than she had ever had and decided to ask her master what to do with
it once she got back to her ashram, Zur-Hadosh.
They had arrived just in time. That evening before dusk and with great fanfare,
Mayor Grandbelly gave the details of the betrothal. Lenia smiled to herself
over the fuss the old halfling made over the exact date, and his glowing description
of the absent fiancee. He ended his speech with a great bow and swoop of what
was probably his best “mayor” hat.
The troop lost themselves in the various activities. Most went for the drinking,
the dancing, and the eating after the announcement was made. Qillana became
involved with the gambling after she and Tunley had several good singing sessions.
Rissa and Armen went to bless the couple and their parents, and then went
to renew their vows with their respective gods.
Sometime in the late evening of drinking, Reshtark leans over to Tunley and
asks, “Would you care to play the Game?”
After the celebration and nearly morning, Reshtark and Tunley snuck across
the courtyard towards the Mayor’s house. They hid in the shadows till
the guards passed by. Reshtark pointed to a window on the second floor, which
was just over his head. Tunley smiled and nodded in agreement. Reshtark crept
forward and lifted the halfling into the window.
Tunley stepped from the windowseat and took a survey of the room. It was the
mayor’s bedroom. He could hear the mayor and his wife snoring in their
bed. There were two wardrobe armoires as well. Tunley shrugged and went for
the one on the right. He looked carefully at the latch but could see no lock
securing it. Shrugging again he pressed the catch open with his thumb, and
found himself biting his tongue as a small needle sank into the ball of his
thumb. He cursed silently and opened the doors. There in all its glory was
the fancy hat. Tunley smiled and gently lifted the prize from its perch. He
gingerly made his way to the window, passed the hat to the great Maeli, and
very quietly rolled out of the window and into Reshtark's arms, unconscious.
Reshtark kept his eye on the window. No alarm was being raised; no sounds
could be heard, save a faint snoring. Reshtark did his best to get them back
to their private tent unseen. He tried to wake Tunley but couldn’t.
Who could help?
With bleary eyes Rissa looked at the Maeli. “What do you want?”
she asked.
“Tunley needs some help.” He said. “He isn’t acting
right.”
“Alright. Let me dress”
Reshtark sneaked back to the tent, Rissa simply followed him and rolled her
eyes in amusement as he darted in and out the shadows just in front of her.
In the tent she found the unconscious Tunley snoring. She gave him the once
over and found that his thumb was twice the size it usually was and an ugly
shade of nearly elven blue. “I hope whatever you took was worth it.
He’ll be alright, it’s just a sleeping poison.”
“Oh you bet it is!” Reshtark said. “We get this home and
write the letter to say who stole it, we’ll have the biggest acknowledgement
party ever! Master players is what they’ll call us!”
“Provided you can get it out of town.” Rissa said. “Everyone
will be up soon. How do you plan on getting away?”
He hadn’t thought that far. He shuffled his feet and looked at her.
Rissa laughed.
“What did you take anyway?”
Lenia found herself woken up and walking back home with an unclear head.
She didn’t remember anyone ever warning her that drinking had after-effects.
“Please tell me again, Arman. Why are we going home so soon?”
“I don’t know, but it seems that Tunley and Reshtark have a thing
for each other.” He smiled. Being a paladin of the Twins, he enjoyed
seeing couples together.
Reshtark shifted Tunley on his shoulder. Rissa had said that Tunley wouldn’t
wake for hours yet. He glanced at the sack over Rissa’s back. It wouldn’t
do them any good if the hat were damaged-- indeed, it would be a great disgrace.
He shifted Tunley again trying to ignore the flowers that the halflings were
giving him. It was, after all, considered good luck and a blessing to find
a lover at a betrothal party, so people were wishing them well. At least they
were ignoring the sack, he thought.
Around noon Tunley awoke. It was then that they told the others what they
had done. They got congratulations all around. With the help of the troop
they marched as far as they could bear to walk and then made a “dark
camp” for the night. They dug a deep pit for the cooking pot and smaller
ones for themselves to sleep in, to better to hide where they were.
On the first watch, Tunley had gotten out the hat and was playing mayor, strutting
about and giving out silly orders. Qillana laughed till she heard the sound
of boots on the coral road.
“Shh!” she said. Tunley pulled off the hat and hid in his hole
and waited.
Qillana listened as best as she could but heard nothing but the sound of someone
breathing. The sound got closer, and then she heard a muffled ‘smack’
and knew that they were being robbed “They’re taking the hat!”
All the camp was awake and asking questions. “Did you see them?”
“Which way did they go?” “Tunley’s out again!”
Reshtark barked some Maeli curses and started to run in the general direction
of the thief. Lenia called for him to come back but he ignored her and kept
running. They had stolen that hat, and it was theirs fair and square!
“Shouldn’t we go after him?” Qillana asked.
“No,” Lenia said. “If they have the better thief than they
are the winners. I was quite surprised that you had gotten as far as you did.
It was a really good first try at the Game.”
“If Reshtark is not back by morning, we’d better go look for him,”
Rissa said. The troop agreed.
Reshtark ran back down the road toward the thorp of Jambo. They had to have
come back this way; it was the fastest and easiest way to travel, not to mention
the safest. His beady red eyes allowed him to see in total darkness, but he
saw nothing that encouraged him. After a few more miles of running he spotted
two figures up ahead and ran even harder.
Somewhere on the coral plains, a thief watched her adversary run by in the
darkness. She smiled as she glanced again at the hat her mayor wore. When
you got right down to it, there was nothing so very special about the pieces
and bangles that waved, chimed, or hummed in the wind as they swung from its
broad brim. Even the sealskin felt itself was beginning to wear a bit. But
that wasn't the point, she thought to herself. She remembered her own didaka
lecturing her on this so many years ago. The point is, he said, it's Ours.
Of course Otho wears it, so others can see it and covet it. That's deliberate.
Of course, they'll try and take it, and if we're not careful, they might get
their little gayen paws on it. The point is, you go get it back when they
do. That we can do this, well, that's what makes us who we are. Better than
the wugs. Better than Kobolds. Better than those upstart Breather-monkeys.
She would make her way across the plains now, secure in the knowledge that
he had missed her. Yes, coup was being counted-- but it was her coup, not
theirs. That was what mattered.
The two figures were mearly guards from town, muttering to each other about
their failure to find their quarry on this fool's errand. Reshtark, realizing
he’d utterly missed the Gamester he was pursuing, angrily started to
make his way back to the troops.
After a few miles of walking he realized that he had just spent an entire
day on a forced march over open country, then most of the night jogging back
over that same country. His legs felt like lumps of kelpwood, and breath was
coming harder now in his thirteenth hour of straight running, alone, on unfriendly
plains. If the kobolds-- or worse yet the wugs-- found him he would be in
big trouble. He started to run and in doing so knew that he wasn't going to
make it. He figured he would go as far as possible and pray to the Land that
his new friends would find him before something evil did. The coral looked
positively friendly as it rose to meet his left cheek.
The troop broke camp at dawn.
“I’m going back to Jambo. Maybe I can find on the road.”
Rissa said.
“He knew the risks. It’s his own fault.” Lenia said.
“You can go on,” Qillana said, “I’ll help find him.”
In a less than serene huff, Lenia followed everyone else.
Around mid-morning, they found Reshtark. He was lying face down in the road.
They all stood around him.
“Are you going to heal him?” Lenia asked the priest and paladin.
They both shook their heads, noting silently his regular breathing, and the
conspicuous lack of a bloody puddle around him.
“As you said, it’s his fault.” Rissa mused.
“We’ll just wait.” Armen said and made himself comfortable
on the side of the road. “Besides, I don’t think that there is
anyone here who can sling him over their shoulders, now is there?”
Lenia smiled at the troop being made up of one human, two elves, and two halflings.
“No, I agree with you.” She put her sack down and went into her
exercises.
By noon Reshtark awoke and grudgingly walked with the troop. No one said
anything for the day and slowly they made their way south back to Kallor.
They were a day or two out of Kallor and had set up camp for the night. Rissa
and Arman were on last watch when Arman heard some noises outside camp and
stared into the darkness.
“Undead!” he shouted. He had heard of such things but never seen
them.
The whole camp was up and armed in a matter of seconds. Rissa tried twice
to call upon the power of the Trickster to repeal this offense to the natural
order of things, but to no avail, the unholy things were upon them quickly.
It was only after they got close that Rissa realized that these weren’t
just mindless walking dead-- some were Eaters of the Dead as well! One bounded
toward Rissa spitting its poison into her face and she felt her limbs grow
sluggish.
Arman quickly remembered his training and knew that his holy hammer would
do little on these foul beasts and drew out his knife.
Reshtark chopped what he could with his axe, but these zombies seemed tougher
than anything had a right to be. Lenia grabbed the first weapon that was handy,
her nunchaku. After a few hits she realized that they were not doing any good,
and so stepped back and drew forth her kama. Qillana had come to Rissa’s
body and tried to pull her out of the melee only to be spat upon by the ghoul
and was paralyzed too.
A strange dance began to take shape—humorous, almost, if it hadn’t
been so deadly earnest. Members of the troop went down and, aided by their
comrades, got back up to find themselves aiding their soon-unconscious benefactors
in turn. Though Qillana and Rissa were paralyzed, they soon found their limbs
moving again, and got back up to their feet. Woe to the paladin and the monk,
who were taking as mighty a blow as they were giving—but their targets
took little note of the injuries they were suffering, and if they felt pain,
they kept it silent. The Heroes were pummelled, slashed, almost killed. Then
they would feel the healing hand of Rissa, who was trying to duck the zombies’
attacks at the same time. All knew that this couldn’t last very much
longer. They were all amazed at Reshtark who would chop the enemy to pieces
in one or two blows and then move to the next one. If only there weren't still
so many...
At the end there were only four left standing, Reshtark, Tunley, and two zombies.
With a last effort Arman had swept his legs under a ghoul and tripped him,
whereupon Reshtark cut him in half. Now two were standing and Reshtark didn’t
know if he would last.
“If I fall,” he said through dry lips, “go to Kallor and
get help. They won’t run after you. Not with all this choice meat lying
about.”
Tunley nodded. He had started singing a song when he woke up and didn’t
dare stop now. He did his best as they flanked this near creature. Tunley
brought it down with his knife.
They both ran to stop the last zombie from dragging Lenia away. At a crushing
blow from the creatures shrivielled arm, Tunley went crashing down among the
others. Reshtark saw the undead thing follow the movement of his weapon and
knew that it would try to disarm him to get him in closer. He made a feint
as if to allow the creature to take it, then swung the axe down upon his head.
With a crack, the last one was dead.
He was happy to learn that Rissa and Qillana were still conscious. Together
they stabilized everyone.
Too tired to go on, they stayed put for several days before finally returning to Kallor.
At least, or perhaps at last, they had tales to tell…