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The Chosen -- Episode #1 - Looks Are Deceiving

As she stood in the July sun, feeling her chain mail get more uncomfortable, Rana couldn't help but ask herself why she hadn't said no. Beside her, the handsome swordsman who had introduced himself as “Brother” William stared across the hilltop at the three tag-alongs they had met in the pub the previous evening.

As if he had been reading her mind, William bent over to whisper, “Rana, why didn't you say no?”

She looked up at the muscular, dark-haired man who stood over her, “It must be my elven blood. I'm just too damn nice.”

Trying to forget the chain mail oven she wore, she looked across as two of the three, a three-foot hobbit named Knock and a grubby-looking man who went by the name Sphyg, began kicking and pounding on one of the five enormous marble pillars that so oddly decorated this otherwise bare hilltop. “Either that,” Rana continued, “or I had one too many brandies last night.”

Her first mistake, she remembered, had been admitting she was going to explore the local “hidden treasure” spot: a set of five thirty-foot marble pillars evenly spaced in a circle atop a small hill about a half-day's ride out of Restenford. But that was only the first mistake. When William introduced himself, she thought he looked gentle enough, but she had never seen him in town, before. As skilled as she was with a sword, the thought of being alone with an unknown swordsman still made her cautious. Never-the-less, it was her uncontrollable knack for being nice that got her into this. Now, she had travelled a half day with not just William, but with three others, including one who showed the features of an orc, the racial enemies of elves. She comforted herself in the fact that his name bore no resemblance to the orcish language. In fact, when he introduced himself as “Abraham,” she at first thought he was joking. Never-the-less, she knew orcs could be deceptive, so she had kept a wary eye on him the whole day.

Suddenly, a cry of pain rang out from Sphyg. Rana looked up to see the man holding one foot in pain while jumping up and down on the other. “I think this one's hollow,” Knock said, casually ignoring his associate's pain.

William glanced over at Rana. “Shall we help out these two before they kill themselves?” Before she could respond, though, he scanned the hilltop and asked, “Where is that halfbreed orc we brought along?” Knock abruptly stopped his examination and looked across at the next pillar around in the circle. “He went on over there,” he said with an instant air of suspicion. “I bet he's found a way in without tellin' us!”

In unison, the remaining four moved to the other pillar. Around the base, they found a partially opened panel with just enough room for a person to squeeze through. All eyes went to the hobbit. “I get the hint,” Knock mumbled, “damn big people don't got the guts to squeeze through a little crack.”

The halfling scrambled past the panel into the compartment inside where he could see sunlight reflecting in from above. “The whole thing's hollow!” he exclaimed as he examined the cramped space. A creaking noise from the floor of the pillar brought his dagger out of its belt sheath in an instant.

“Careful, runt,” came Abraham's voice from under an opening trap door. “No sense in skewering me, yet. Get the others if they're willing; there's a room below and a passage farther on.”

In a few minutes, the others had squeezed into the pillar and began descending through the trap door to the room below. Once down, Abraham pulled out a pair of torches, quickly lit them and handed one to Sphyg. “Try not to burn yourself with this. And for the gods sake, don't burn any of us with it!” Sphyg glared back at the half-orc and then glanced around at the group. He would allow the insult this time, he thought to himself, but only this time!

In the dim light of their torches, stone-carved statues and adornments of metal and wood could be seen, apparently remnants of a long-gone temple. Abraham took the lead and set out down the tunnel. The others did likewise, followed by William, who held Rana back as the others went on ahead. “Let those three probe the way forward, shall we?” he suggested quietly, “Who knows what dangers could be found here.”

Rana dismissed his statement. This place was so different from anything she had expected that she hadn't given much thought to the dangers. She stopped to examine a faded painting on one of the walls and William stepped back, “We mustn't dawdle back here. If there are treasures to be found, they will be where our companions are heading. Do you trust them alone?”

Before she had chance to answer, Rana heard a cry up ahead from the hobbit. Her sword was in her hand before she heard the first clash of weapon on shield and she had closed the distance between her and the others before William reacted.

Not quite knowing what to expect, she assumed the conflict was within the group. Perhaps the half-orc was beginning to show his true colors. What she saw when she reached the others, though, was not at all what she expected. The corridor opened into a wide room where Abraham and Knock stood fighting a pair of animated human skeletons. The skeletons clutched long daggers and fought with a quickness that belied their form. Rana ran past the gawking Sphyg and brought her sword down hard on Abraham's opponent. Bones splintered and the skeleton lost some of its integrity, but it answered her attack by switching targets. She dropped low when its dagger swung around at her, but couldn't avoid getting a cut across her forearm on its return swing. Its double attack, though, left it vulnerable. Her blade was all the way through its rib cage before she realized what little effect that would have on a skeleton.

Before she could withdraw her sword, a shattered skull rolled past her as William entered the room and brought his sword to bear on Knock's opponent. Rana was surprised at William's strength and before long, he had destroyed his skeleton. Having spent much of her training in mock battles against flesh and blood opponents, this form of combat was new to Rana. How do you kill an opponent who seems invulnerable to slashing attacks? Never-the-less, before the skeleton could connect with its dagger a second time, Rana had put two well- placed hits on its head and shoulders. It was enough to incapacitate the creature, but not enough to break the magics that had animated it. The skeleton crumbled to the ground and twitched violently. It was now no great task to smash what was left to pieces.

William sheathed his sword, stepped out into the room and turned to address the others, “All right, everyone, we've seen the type of creatures that guard these chambers and you've seen what I can do about them. I'm easily the strongest in this bunch, so from now on I lead. If you have any objections, then spit them out now!”

Rana was impressed. She considered challenging him about the strength part, but decided against it. He was, after all, over a foot taller than she and there was a seriousness in his voice that easily overshadowed her sense of humor.

Sphyg and Knock agreed, obviously preferring William over a half-orc. Abraham, though, stood and glared at this self-proclaimed leader. “Very well, sir,” he spoke, “If it pleases you, you may lead. However, I am not without skill in swordplay and if you begin to lead us astray, be advised that we are to your rear!”

It was as good a challenge as if a sword had been drawn, but William decided to ignore it for now. The half-orc was still useful and he seemed well-equipped for an underground expedition. After they were out in daylight, though, thought William, it will be the half-orc who must look to his rear.



For nearly an hour, the group carefully explored the chambers which they now knew had been a temple to an evil and apparently secretive religion. Rana instinctively thought it wrong to explore further, but seeing no hesitation in the others, she continued, taking comfort in the possibility of treasure and the fact that even if some great and evil god decided to curse them, she would not be alone. Soon, they came to a set of stairs leading down and William signalled the others to stop. Just then, perhaps in response to the light shed by their torches, a great figure rose up from the dark stairway. It stood ten feet tall and had to stoop when it stepped into the room. Tattered clothing dripped from skeletal arms as it lifted two swords up in attack position. “I am the curse of N'kura!” it bellowed. “Come forth and let my blades drink your blood!”

For an instant, Rana thought of fleeing, but the creature held her spellbound. Abraham lunged past her, sword in one hand, torch in the other, while William pivoted and drew his weapon in one smooth motion. The creature swung both swords down, one on each of its opponents. William was able to dodge, and felt the blow deflect off his shield. Abraham, as quick as he was, had come too close. He brought his sword deep into the monster's rib cage, but could not avoid the crushing blow in return. The half-orc crumpled to the floor, his sword tumbled down the steps, and his torch flame extinguished. The chamber went dark. William, deprived of light, rolled quickly to his left and back. “Where's our second torch?” he yelled.

Rana looked around. Her elven night vision made out the figures of Knock, William, and the barely breathing body of Abraham, but she saw no sign of Sphyg or his torch. Ahead, and near the ceiling, she saw the glowing eyes of the monster, but its body gave off no heat, and her elven vision gave her no advantage. Knowing William stood no chance without light, she had to act quickly. Speed was her greatest asset in combat, and now she was blind and had to use it to her utmost. Taking two running steps forward, she leapt into the air and kicked out where the creature's torso should be. She felt her foot hit bone and heard the giant skeleton crash against the stairway wall as it lost its footing from the blow.

“We've got to get Abraham out of here,” she called out to William as the skeleton tumbled back down the stairs.

“I can't see a damned thing! Get a torch lit so I can fight this creature,” came his reply.

By this time, Knock had pulled out his tinderbox and shed enough light to see the skeleton crawling back up the stairs. “We have the chance. Let's flee,” called the hobbit as he inched his way back from the others. Rana looked to William, knowing that they had little time to debate. In smooth motions, the two scooped up the unconscious half-orc and hobbled after the already running halfling.

When the skeleton reached the top of the stairs, it was forced to bend over to maneuver down the passage in pursuit. Thus, Rana and William, burdened as they were, were able to get clear. The skeleton followed only a short distance and then turned to guard its stairs once again.

Once outside, the two set down their burden and Rana immediately began to administer medical aid. William, however, had other things on his mind. Leaning casually against a pillar was Sphyg. Knock had already made his way over to him and the two stood talking together. William walked over, all the while fixing a determined glare on Sphyg.

“Why did you run away?” William snapped.

Sphyg replied casually, “At the time I felt it important that at least one of us survived. I'm pleased to see you made it out safely.”

“Well, I wouldn't be so cheerful if I were you.” William stepped closer and spoke through clenched teeth, “If I had died in there, your chances of surviving to tomorrow would be much higher.”

William stepped back slowly and shot a look of contempt at the hobbit, “Be careful where your allegiance lies, halfling, it could be your downfall.” With that he turned and walked back to Rana, who had just finished bandaging up Abraham's shoulder.

“He's got a broken collar bone and has lost a lot of blood,” she said as William returned. We need to get him back to Restenford immediately.“

“Can you handle it alone?” he asked quietly, casting a look back at Sphyg.

Rana hesitated. “Well, yes… I suppose so. What about you three?”

“You mean me,” he corrected her. “Those two over there are not deserving of our company any longer. I'll see that they are…” and here he paused long enough to see Rana's expression. She seemed more concerned over Abraham's health than she was suspicious, so he continued. “I'll see that they are told the bad news.”

Rana considered arguing, but decided against it. “Very well, shall I see you in Restenford, then?”

“You shall.”

It took a bit of work to heft the half-orc onto his horse, and even more work to insure that he would not fall off, but soon Rana was ready to go. William escorted her to the bottom of the hill, and then turned back to where Sphyg and Knock were. By this time, though, they had gone.

“Well, well,” he said aloud as he rode back to where he had last seen the missing duo, “It's your lucky day, gentlemen. It seems you may live to see tomorrow after all.” Straightening his cloak, he climbed back to the entrance pillar, cast a quick glance around, pulled aside the panel, and stepped in.

From a concealed vantage point, the missing hobbit whispered to his friend, “That's curious! Why do you suppose he'd head back in alone?”

“Don't know,” answered Sphyg. “One thing's for sure, though, he meant to do us in the moment that half-elf woman left. I say we follow him in. You and I could catch him unawares. If we're lucky, he won't be in our hair ever again!”

The hobbit smiled. “Sounds tempting! Maybe he's found some treasure below and is going back to fetch it all for himself? We could wait here and ambush him when he comes out. First, though, let me catch another dinner. I'm famished.”

The human was noticeably surprised. He had travelled with Knock for a few months now, but had never fully understood his eating habits. “But you ate not two hours ago,” Sphyg pleaded. Knock, however, had already trotted back to the horses concealed nearby and was rummaging through his sack. It took ten minutes to pry the hobbit away from his food and another five to convince him to go down and ambush William in the dark. When they had finally made their way back to the entrance pillar, they failed to notice that William and his horse were already nearing the main road a full quarter mile away.



It did not take William long to catch up with Rana and together they made better time and arrived in town before sunset. It was the temple to Diancecht that Rana headed for first, explaining to William that the clerics there could heal all manner of injury, and usually did so for a nominal contribution.

The priests were more than happy to admit the wounded swordsman, despite his race, and after a quick synopsis of his condition had been given, Rana and William left for the inn. “Let's catch a few drinks in the common room, shall we?” Rana asked.

William agreed eagerly and so the two stayed up for several hours talking of their pasts. Something about William intrigued Rana, but after hearing his life story, she could not place her finger on what it was. They seemed to have nothing in common. In fact, Rana had heard of neither the village, nor the monastery, in which William had lived most of his life, yet his accent was distinctly that of a native of Lendore Island. Rana dismissed it all as yet another example of her lack of worldly knowledge. The elven blood from her mother's side promised a long, healthy life, yet her father's all-too-human curiosity had always been her true motivation. She had left home when her father grew sick because the thought of death at such an early age frightened her. Still, she trained in the use of a sword and seemed now to be putting herself in predicaments where death could claim her at any age. She was an enigma even to herself, so she did her best not to think about it.

As the hours went by, a thin man entered the room dressed in dark robes with a deep red belt. With him was an elven magician who began impressing patrons with illusions of fire. The man made his way to the table where Rana and William sat and introduced himself as Bangkor. He had short black hair cut with perfectly straight bangs and spoke with a strong accent. Most probably, surmised Rana, he was from the kingdom of Backbone some 400 miles over sea on the continent to the south. Around his neck, nearly hidden in his robes, was a small carving of a coiled cobra made of a black crystal.

When the elf, still impressing patrons with his magics, saw Bangkor take a seat with Rana and William, he canceled his demonstration, trotted across the room, and grabbed a chair next to Rana.

“This is my comrade, Lavarock,” explained Bangkor. “We came into town with your friend, Abraham.”

“He's no friend of ours,” William was quick to reply, “just a business associate.”

“Brother William!” came a shocked response from Rana, “be fair. Abraham risked his life against that skeleton we fought and I think him deserving of our highest respect.”

William managed a brief smile and mumbled an apology to Bangkor. All the while, Lavarock had been silent. When finally he spoke, his voice was characteristically elven: high, yet smooth. “We heard Abraham had been wounded in his outing and were wondering whether you would have us along as his replacement. We are not skilled with swords, but have magics which quite adequately compensate. Bangkor is a priest and has some limited healing spells. I have learned the art of flame manipulation.” At this, the elf gestured briefly, spoke in an arcane language, and pointed a finger at William. Flames instantly erupted out of his armor, sending the surprised fighter out of his seat. Rana jumped back in shock, but fell to laughter when the flames began changing colors and eventually turned into a dozen small, wisps of flame and smoke and flew out a nearby window.

William was not pleased, but before he could do anything, Rana jumped up and quickly said, “We'd love to have you along. Any friends of Abraham's are friends of ours.”

William stared at Rana in disbelief. Could a woman exist, he thought, that was more naive than her? Still, he knew that his skill with a sword was more than a match for these two. When the time was right, he would have no difficulty slaying them both, if the need arose.

Soon thereafter, Rana bid William good night and went up to the room she had rented during her stay in the city. The two spellcasters had since retired for the night, and so William was at last alone. He slipped out the door of the inn and headed quietly down the street.



The temple to Diancecht was silent at this hour and the single guard at the garden entrance seemed only half-alert. William approached to within fifteen feet before the guard sensed his approach, but by then it was too late. Before he could blow his warning horn, before he could draw his weapon, and before he could even cry for help, he fell to the ground with a shuriken buried deep in his neck. The tall man took little time retrieving his weapon and making his way through the garden into the temple building. Abraham lay in a small room just off the great hall on the main level. William went inside and quickly closed the door behind him. “It will be a stretch of my powers,” he thought to himself as he stared at the unconscious figure on the bed, “but even in a building consecrated to a god of healing, the dark magics pervade.”

In a minute, a silent ritual had been performed, and William stepped back to examine his handiwork. Abraham's face had gone pale and blood oozed anew from under the bandages over his shoulder wound. “He may even live,” thought William, “this place is powerful indeed.”



The next morning, as temple officials tried to explain why a guard was dead, and neither patients nor valuables had been disturbed, William, Rana, Bangkor, and Lavarock rode out of town. “I checked on Abraham this morning,” Lavarock said as the four left the city gates. “It seems his wounds re-opened overnight. They say it may take several weeks for him to recover.”

“Perhaps,” suggested William casually, “the skeleton's blades are cursed. Against them we should be extremely careful.” The others muttered signs of agreement and nothing more was said about it until they arrived at the hill.

Once at their destination, the quartet sat down for a meal and began to discuss in detail their plans for assault. William was in favor of just barging in and destroying the creature as if its previous ferocity was some sort of act, while Rana favored a carefully laid out plan, although she was at a loss to devise one. Bangkor and Lavarock, having not seen the creature, could offer no useful plan, either.

It was late in the afternoon and William had grown visibly irritated before all four were ready to go below. The first chambers were as they were left, reassuring Rana that there were no more animate creatures here other that the giant skeleton. When the group cautiously peered around the corner toward the stairs, they were presented with a mystery. Just at the head of the stairs lay the crushed body of the skeleton that had seemed so menacing only one day earlier. Now, its head was smashed in and its two swords broken.

“Has somebody been here other than us?” asked Rana in disbelief. “It couldn't have been Sphyg or Knock, could it?”

William looked at Rana, quickly concealing his smug expression. “Of course not. Those two would injure themselves trying to cut down a tree, let alone defeat a monster such as this. In any event, it matters not who or what felled this creature, only that our passage is now open.”

William noticed the confusion in Rana's face, but had stepped over the skeleton and was headed down the stairs before she thought to say anything, and by then the point was moot. William knew exactly who had felled the monster, but he felt now was not the time to admit his expertise with a sword. “Besides,” he thought to himself, “they may become suspicious, and that could prove awkward later when I will need their complete and faithful trust.”

The stairs went down only six steps before turning left at a small landing. The second set had six more steps, and turned again. It was at this landing that the group first heard the noises from below. Rana motioned the others to silence and listened carefully. Somewhere in the dark below, someone or something was eating a very noisy meal.

“If I were you,” suggested Bangkor as he prodded Rana forward, “I would ready my sword.” William had already drawn his weapon and began cautiously descending the final six steps.

At the bottom, the carefully formed walls of mortared stone gave way to rough- hewn, almost natural caverns with three distinct tunnels leading away from the stairs. Only the left-most one seemed to have noise coming from it, so by a silent consensus, the four decided to head down it first.

When the noises stopped suddenly only a few feet into the tunnel, William realized that whatever was here had seen their light. “Quickly!” he said aloud, “We have lost our surprise. Let's rush it now.” Without waiting for a debate, the tall man ran down the tunnel into darkness, forcing the others to follow so that he would have light to see.

The tunnel opened into a natural cave where several naked humanoids squatted around the barely recognizable corpses of Sphyg and Knock. Most of the flesh had been torn from their midsection and legs, and, in the hobbit's case, part of his face was missing. Rana stopped cold, instantly regretting her recent meal. William did not pause a second. The first creature died before it could even snarl at it attacker. Immediately, the others jumped up and ran at the four intruders, hissing and snarling like angered beasts. Their skin was stark white with almost no flesh over their bones. Their hair was long and black and their eyes were a dull gray. In place of fingernails, they had short, thick claws, and from their mouth protruded small fangs stained with the blood of the two dead adventurers.

Rana was still sickened at the sight of the mutilated corpses, and so was barely able to defend the clawing attack of the first creature to reach her. William, on the other hand, had severely wounded a second creature and fought with a ferocity that Rana had not seen in him before. Behind the two fighters, Lavarock balked while Bangkor opened his robe and held forth his crystalline snake shouting out, “In the name of Set, I command you to kneel before us!” As if in defiance, a creature leaped directly at him, raking a claw across his jaw.

Suddenly, Rana snapped to her senses. A quick count showed six of the creatures had been in the cave when they entered. One was already dead, one had slipped past the two fighters, and she and William fought the remaining four. They fought with skill, she noticed, but their claws were not sharp enough to pierce her armor and she was quick enough to avoid their fangs. Soon, she had killed one just as William killed his second.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rana saw a flash of flame and heard a howl from the creature fighting the wizards. Her remaining opponent was distracted just for a second. After another second, it was dead. In time, William beat off his attacker and he turned to the creature that had slipped past him. Lying on the ground, apparently unmarred, was the last creature. Lavarock looked up and smiled. “Remember that spell I cast on you at the inn?” he asked William, “Works like a peach if they're stupid enough to believe it.” William raised an eyebrow. Perhaps it is time to re-evaluate my plan, he thought as he kicked at the corpse, I must never allow myself to misjudge these two.

Bangkor stepped up to William, “I think it would be best to remove your lady- friend from the area. She looks a bit green around the gills,” he said quietly, nodding toward Rana. William followed his gaze just as Rana tore herself away from looking at the mutilated adventurers. “Do you feel she is qualified to continue?” the priest added with an air of conceit. “After all, she is but a woman.”

William said nothing. In short time, the four had bandaged their scratches and began searching the second tunnel, which they found ended in a smoothed out chamber with a large stone door. Around the seal of the door were carved numerous runes, while painted in fading letters on the door itself was a message written in an ancient language. Only Lavarock was able to read the words and after several minutes he stepped back and proudly proclaimed, “It's a treasure vault!” William needed no more excuse, he pulled the latch back and pushed in on the huge door.

As he strained, Bangkor whispered to Lavarock, “What does it truly say, friend?”

Lavarock smiled. “It says that evil curses will befall those who do not embrace the ways of the Old Ones. If the warning is true, William should be dead within minutes.”

Bangkor's grin faded as William swung the door in and stepped through. “Maybe the curses faded with time,” he whispered.

“I think not,” responded Lavarock with a new suspicion in his voice.

The chamber beyond the door was clearly no treasure room, having mosaics along all walls, carefully placed decorative stones in the floor and ceiling, and a large altar against the far wall with huge statues of tentacled humanoids on either side. The whole room was dimly lit with a steady yellow light behind the altar. Rana cautiously approached the light, but slowed down halfway to her destination, and collapsed to her knees. William drew his sword in a flash, more out of instinct than anything else, and went immediately to Rana.

“I feel sick,” she said feebly as William helped her stand. Bangkor and Lavarock had cautiously entered the room by now and stepped up to help. Suddenly, a noise came from the altar. William let Rana go and took a step forward, readying his sword. From behind the altar a poisonous snake slithered, somehow growing larger with each passing second. An eery glow surrounded the creature and by the time it's head was fully in front of the altar, it was over ten feet long and still growing. William raised his sword high in preparation, but Bangkor leapt in front of him.

“Step back,” he ordered, “I worship Set and by my power, no snake can harm me!” He pulled out his crystal snake figurine and presented it boldly to the still growing creature before him.

A growling noise came from the snake, now fifteen feet long and nearly a foot across, and a deep, hissing voice echoed in the tiny chamber, “Fool! Your worthless god has no power against such as I!” The creature's growth began slowing and it lunged forward at Bangkor.

William and Rana moved in to attack. Bangkor screamed a curse in a language none understood and only his chain armor prevented the snake's unnatural fangs from sinking into his left arm. The two fighters struck at the snake's body trying to stay clear of its poisonous fangs until it realized where the threat lay and diverted its attack to the two sword wielders. The snake clearly showed intelligence, but with a fighter on either side, it had no effective defense, and in a short time, the snake slumped to the floor with numerous gashes around its head. One further blow severed its head completely.

After a thorough examination of the room, and Bangkor's bruises had been tended to as best they could, the group left, feeling rather disappointed that the room had turned out to be a trap instead of a treasure room. Lavarock felt it prudent not to admit his deception, though neither he nor Bangkor had expected any treasure there.

The third and final tunnel quickly turned into a maze of smaller tunnels twisting around on themselves. Still, one passage was always larger than the other branches, and so the group chose to explore it. It wasn't long before they realized their mistake. From behind them, they heard scraping and shuffling, and Rana was the first to spot the source: nearly a dozen of the humanoids they had seen in the first tunnel had crept out of the smaller tunnels and had cut off their escape route. Battle broke out soon after Rana gave a warning cry, but though the two fighters were no match for the creatures, they seemed to have no end. Bangkor and Lavarock had precious little magics left, so could offer no useful aid. The battle quickly digressed into a cautious retreat deeper into the tunnel.

Just as they had felt their cause worthless, Bangkor spotted a light further on. Hope drained to desperation once again when a furtive scramble toward the light ended in a dead-end. The tunnel widened out into a high-ceilinged, apparently natural cavern with no means of escape. By now, more of the creatures had arrived to replace the losses that Rana and William had inflicted on them. However, as the group backed into the cavern, they noticed a peculiar event: their attackers stopped cold, hissing and snarling at the open cavern as if some unseen wall held them back. William and Rana, surprised though they were, knew a miracle when they had seen one and fell back to rest and recuperate while keeping a wary eye on the growing horde of creatures.

A startled gasp from Lavarock diverted their attention to the far side of the cavern, where a bright point of magical light shone over a dust-covered lump on the ground. At first glance, the lump seemed to be just an extension of the uneven rock floor, but as Lavarock carefully brushed aside the dust layers, the lump clearly took on the forms of a human corpse.

“Oh fabulous!” moaned Rana, “We just get ourselves out of a deadly situation, to find that our haven has a corpse in the closet.”

“No ordinary corpse, it would seem,” offered Bangkor. “Come see for yourself,” he said as he bent over the body. “He appears to be freshly dead. In fact, he appears not to be dead at all.”

Curiosity is a strong force among humans, and as that was doubly true with Rana, she could not hold herself back. She trotted across the room, leaving William to keep an eye on the still snarling mass of creatures that held them captive. “The dust looks as if he's been here years,” she exclaimed as she leaned over to examine the body, “yet he's still warm!”

After brushing the body off, and lifting it into an upright position, Lavarock spotted an equipment pack. Under Rana's careful scrutiny, he knew better than to lie about its contents, so he dumped them out for all to see. A handful of silver and even a pair of gold coins fell out, as well as a handful of holy symbols from a variety of religions, chiefly those of the Lendoran gods Diancecht, Silvanus, Manannan Mac Lir, and Oghma. Several parcels contained what would have been dried meats and fruits, but seemed to be more than just a few years old.

“These coins all bear the likeness of King Eldore II of Backbone,” said Lavarock after carefully counting them.

“King who?” asked Rana, “I thought Scardore VI was their king.”

Bangkor offered his knowledge of his kingdom's royalty by saying, “Eldore II was king before his evil son, Aurdai had that title. Aurdai was ousted from office after nearly twenty years by Prince Armin, who then took the name of Scardore. That was in the year 1068, over twenty years ago.”

“Do you mean this man has been here at least forty years?” asked Rana in disbelief.

“Either that,” answered Lavarock, “or he was a collector of old coinage.”

The other two looked at the elf strangely. “Collect coins?” they asked in disbelief. “Who would bother to do such a foolish thing as that unless they were rich and insane?”

“I didn't mean it to be a viable theory, only a possible one.” The magician stopped talking after that, trying to piece together what he had meant. Before the others could say anything else, though, William spoke from across the cavern.

“I think that the man's hobbies are quite irrelevant at this point! We still have a considerable number of vermin here who don't want us to leave alive. Now, I suggest we formulate a plan or we will surely die and leave even more confusing puzzles for the next batch of crazies that may come down here in search of mythical treasures. Am I understood?” On that last note, he raised his voice nearly to a shout, and the other three quite readily understood.

After a quick debate and a small dose of healing magics from Bangkor, the group had still not come up with a plan. The humanoids at the entrance had calmed down slightly, but none had left. Suddenly, Lavarock leapt up excitedly. “I must have all of your torches and lantern oil, as well as any small strips of cloth that you can afford to give up.”

Without much argument, save for one from William that at least one torch should be kept, the four had piled a small campfire-sized heap of flammables on the ground. After a minimal effort, the heap was ablaze and Lavarock began staring at it and chanting carefully.

Rana stepped over to Bangkor. “You've been with him for awhile, right? Do you know what he's up to?”

Bangkor smiled, folded his arms, and said calmly, “I'd rather not go into it right now, but suffice it to say that Lavarock thinks he can summon a fire elemental with enough patience.”

Rana's eyes grew wide. “Is he crazy?” she shouted. “Would he have us die by the flames of an elemental? Why, I think we should –”

Her words were cut short by a sudden burst of flame from the bonfire. Lavarock raised his arms high, and chanted a final verse, “Edi – Alfor – Intil – Oswald!” The flames rose to the height of a man and seemed to form into a human shape, complete with eyes and a mouth. The creatures at the cave entrance began to sulk back in the direction they came, and when Lavarock pointed at them and said aloud, “Get them, Oswald!”, they fell back in random retreat.

“Now's our chance,” Lavarock said as the flame creature lumbered down the tunnel, sending the humanoids fleeing before it. The other three were dumb- founded, but William knew they may have little time. He quickly lit their last torch in the embers of the fire and headed down the tunnel after the flame- creature.

Rana took the time to ask Lavarock as they began down the tunnel, “Is that creature of yours just an illusion?”

Lavarock smiled back, “Oh Oswald? I really don't know. I've never asked him.”

At the last second, Rana rushed back into the cavern and scooped up the dusty form that lay there. After a quick adjustment, she trotted down the tunnel after her friends, still able to keep pace with the others, in spite of her load.

The creatures seemed more afraid of fire than of the mysterious cavern, and so it was with little difficulty that the four were able to make their way out of the complex and into the afternoon sun. Rana carefully set down her burden on the grass as William pulled close the door into the pillar.

“Why did you bring him out?” William asked the panting half-elf.

“He may still be alive!” Rana answered, a little surprised at the question. “Besides, if we could get him revived, he would have answers for us.”

“Who needs answers,” mumbled Lavarock in disgust. “There was no treasure down there save for a handful of coins.”

“From what I saw,” Rana answered in defense, “we got enough to live on for a few weeks each. I propose we head back to town and sort things out there, agreed?”

The other three agreed and, after packing up their camp, they headed back to Restenford, arriving a few hours after dark.



The body was brought to the temple of Diancecht, where the priests were baffled. They had never seen an ailment such as this, nor had they heard of any magical curses which would have these results. For a small fee, though, they agreed to put him up in a room and see if something could be done. William haggled the priest down in price, arguing that the man would never need to eat, but Rana pulled him from the temple, before he offended the priests too much.

The money was split evenly among the four plus Abraham, and Rana declared that she was going to visit her cousin Eril in the nearby fishing village of Midland. William offered to accompany her, but Lavarock and Bangkor declined, saying their duty was here with Abraham.

“Perhaps we will meet again, though,” offered Bangkor to Rana. “There is much of my religion that could benefit you.” With that, he handed Rana a simple metal medallion with a red coiled cobra painted on its face. Rana politely thanked him and the two groups bid each other farewell.

E P I L O G U E

Two weeks later, the half-orc Abraham recovered, and he left the temple with his spell-casting companions. Shortly thereafter on July 31, 1090, the priests to Diancecht woke to experience a mystery they were never able to piece together. The room devoted to the un-breathing body given them by Rana, was empty. The body had vanished, though the window was still barred from within, the door still locked, and the only key was safely in the possession of the temple guard captain the entire time.

That night, high on a hill overlooking the valley where Restenford rests, a man stood, rejoicing in the feel of the breeze on his face. “Never again, dark one,” he whispered slowly at the moonless night sky. “Never again will you succeed in your attempts. Though you converted even the most courageous of my comrades into your mindless underground warriors decades ago, you failed with me and now I have come back from stasis to put you and your ilk back in the dimension you belong. Take heed, Godslayer. I know your limits. I know your weaknesses. You will fail. For now, and forevermore, I am no longer Ossa, the proud, I am Ossa, the perfect!”


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chosen1.txt · Last modified: 2017/05/27 18:56 by 127.0.0.1