by Tim Moon
Dust fell from under Jaron’s fingers as he ran his hands along the packed dirt walls, feeling for a doorknob or latch. He jerked his hand away at a sudden texture change. Then realizing he’d only felt wood, he reached back down and fumbled for a way to open the portal. He found a cold metal latch and pressed it with his thumb. It made a grinding noise from dust in the mechanism but opened with a click.
Jaron pushed the door open and was surprised to see faint light inside. He quickly checked for an occupant, but the room appeared empty. With the new source of light, Jaron looked both ways down the hall and saw that he was at the end and there were no other doors to inspect.
Turning back to his latest discovery, Jaron tentatively entered the single small room. It was plainly decorated with a lumpy bed and a wooden trunk at the foot of the bed. Several tattered pieces of cloth hung on a line strung parallel to one wall. The room smelled earthy mixed with a hint of hay and sweat. Not as bad as expected. The light emanated from a small sphere overhead that hung from the ceiling by a single string.
As interesting as it was to see a light, Jaron’s attention was drawn to the most conspicuous source of potential loot — the wooden trunk. The thing looked like it came right off a pirate ship. The curved top was strapped with two wrought iron bands that appeared sturdy, yet to his surprise, the chest did not appear to have a lock.
That raised red flags in Jaron’s head. Every role-playing game he played in the past had trunks, chests, boxes and barrels loaded with goodies but many of them were also rigged with traps. That experience made him weary. Given how realistic this game was, he dreaded to think what a trap might do.
Would she booby trap something in her own house? Jaron wondered. Secret safes or hidden chests would make more sense for defensive measures like that. A chest in the open seemed more like a daily use item. It would be tedious for her to have to disarm a trap every time she wanted to open the chest.
Considering his next move, Jaron remembered his analyze skill and used it on the trunk to see if it would do anything.
Analyze may only be used on other beings, animals and some magical creatures.
He dismissed the prompt and rubbed his forehead. Then he tapped his palm against his forehead and let out an annoyed groan. He had totally forgotten to use his analyze skill on all the kids! Seven missed opportunities to increase his skill. Jaron shook his head. Boneheaded moves like that could prove deadly if he wasn’t careful. To survive in Drezkarn, he would need to keep track of his skills and abilities and leverage every opportunity to grow stronger.
Since the notification didn’t tell Jaron anything useful about the trunk or potential traps, he began a visual inspection. A quick scan of all the sides he could see without moving the chest didn’t reveal anything odd. Next, he carefully checked the seam of the lid. So far, so good.
The space in front of the chest was bare earth and there was only a small gap behind the chest so the lid could be opened without bumping the end of the bed. Excitement began to well up in Jaron since it appeared the chest was not protected. Taking a knee off to the side, in case something popped out of the chest, Jaron rubbed his hands together and slowly opened the lid with one hand. He strained to listen for any odd sounds like a click or twang.
Nothing happened after raising the lid a couple of inches which boosted his confidence. Jaron raised it further, up to six inches and after a pause to adjust his grip on the corner, he fully raised the lid.
Curious about what he might find, Jaron began to lean forward as the lid tilted all the way open and leaned back to rest against the foot of the bed. Crack! Jaron snatched his hand away as a dark shape shot out from the chest, whizzed through the air in a blur and thudded into the wall across from the trunk.
Heart thumping as fast as a hummingbird, Jaron stood to look at half a dozen darts buried in the old planks of the wall. He looked back at the trunk and then back at the darts. Letting out a deep breath, he wiped sweat from his forehead.
Theft must be rampant for someone like Myra, living in the middle of nowhere, to have traps like that. Based on a rough eyeballing of the trajectory, those darts would have struck him in the chest or the face if he had been kneeling in front of the trunk.
Whereas before Jaron didn’t have much hope for great loot, he now felt giddy. You don’t put a trap on an empty box, or one filled with worthless items. There had to be something good inside.
Immediately visible in the trunk were a cloth satchel and a pair of leather gloves. Jaron carefully lifted the gloves one at a time. He focused intently on the gloves to trigger a skill like he had with analyze. After a couple of minutes of intense inspection, and a serious crinkle forming between his eyes, Jaron stopped. Clearly it wasn’t working. If there was anything special about the gloves, he would need help. Maybe Cyprus could inspect items?
Setting the gloves aside, Jaron carefully lifted the satchel. It was a simple messenger-style bag that slung over the shoulder. It was something he could see Indiana Jones wearing. A careful inspection showed the bag to be empty. Still, it wasn’t totally worthless. Jaron dropped the gloves inside and looked at what else lay inside the trunk.
A bamboo tube wrapped in leather was the next major item. Jaron carefully lifted it out and was surprised at how light it felt. Although it felt empty, Jaron opened it with ends pointed away from him and his arms outstretched. The cap slid off and when nothing happened, he tipped the tube onto the floor. Much to his relief, a rolled parchment poked out. Jaron quickly retrieved and unrolled the thick parchment.
The thing looked frail and ancient, but it felt sturdy. He stood to look at it so it was closer to the faint light. In the top left corner of the parchment, the words “Fang Marsh” were written in a bold, elaborate script with many whorls and flourishes. Jaron held a detailed map of the swamp. The rush of discovery made him laugh in pure joy. One of his greatest concerns about their escape was the prospect of getting lost in the foggy marsh, a terrain type he wasn’t familiar with under the best of conditions. Now, with the map and Cyprus’ help they could easily find their way out.
His close inspection of the map prompted a notification.
You have found an area map of Fang Marsh. Would you like to incorporate this into your personal map?
Yes or No
Whaaaaaaat?? Since when did he have a personal map? Also, hells yes I want to add this to my map, Jaron thought excitedly.
This was the kind of thing that really should have been mentioned earlier, like as soon as he finished reading his character sheet the first time. Feeling both annoyed and thrilled, a larger map materialized in his vision.
“Motherfucker,” he said in frustrated awe as he inspected it.
Most of the map area was blacked out. Apparently, Drezkarn used the age old “fog of war” mechanic that kept unexplored areas hidden. The path he walked along the stream leading away from the waterfall area he started in was shown in vivid color and proved easy to follow until it led to Fang Marsh. Focusing his will, Jaron zoomed in and saw his path through the swamp was grayed out. He thought back at the thick mist and wondered if that was because one of Myra’s spells obscured the path they took. Meanwhile, the details from the area map showed up nicely although it too was grayed out. That could be because he hadn’t physically seen those sections. Or perhaps the map was outdated?
One thing stood out immediately. The map he found did not show Myra’s cabin. Although several potential islands were clearly displayed, it was not clear which one she had occupied and none of them showed structures. Was the map a treasure from one of her victims? Or was the map how Myra found her refuge in the first place?
Satisfied with the information that had been added to his personal map, Jaron rolled the parchment and put it away. He stuffed the tube into the satchel for safekeeping and continued his search of the trunk.
The next thing he found brought a boyish grin to his face and made him feel that much more secure. He lifted a rather large dagger out of the chest,
complete with sheath and belt. The handle appeared to be some sort of bone wrapped with dark brown leather while the scabbard was finely carved and polished wood with decorative inlaid pieces and a blackened metal brace at the tip and around the top where the sheath attached to the belt. The leather belt felt supple and well-worn. The item was in incredible condition.
Jaron carefully unsheathed the weapon with eager anticipation. The blade quickly revealed its unique qualities. It was bone, horn or tooth, he couldn’t be sure. The blade wasn’t straight but rather had a slight wave to it and the whole thing raked backwards at a slight angle.
The edges were wickedly sharp, and a burr formed the front bolster, lending credence to the possibility of it being a horn. A small quillon was carved just under the burr for his finger. Curiously, there was another burr that formed the rear bolster. Jaron could only assume two pieces had been joined somewhere under the leather-wrapped handle. It was a beautiful knife and although he couldn’t analyze the item, he had a feeling it was special.
Jaron stood, fastened the belt around his waist, and slid the knife back in place. Wearing the weapon felt good. He sighed softly, relieved at finally being armed with a proper weapon. He still had the spear too, unless his captors had thrown it in the fireplace, which he intended to keep until a real one could be purchased or crafted. He did have the simple weapons skill to level up.
With the knife equipped, Jaron checked his inventory and equipment pages to see what he could learn. The knife was listed just as his spear had been, but this weapon was far more impressive.
Item: Enchanted Dagger (Unknown) Damage: 14-21 Condition: 42/80 Item Class: Uncommon Quality: Rare Weight: 0.35kg
He took a knee beside the trunk and continued his search. The final items included a small pouch of coins with 19 silver and 58 copper coins, a green leaf pin, and a tube like the one he found before, but much smaller. The tube was filled with blank parchment and an equally small quill. Everything went into the satchel. The bag went over his shoulder and then he did a quick inspection of the trunk’s interior for hidden compartments.
Finding nothing else, Jaron did a quick perusal under the ratty, straw-filled mattress and bed frame. All he found was a chamber pot under the edge of the bed that made him gag. As far as he could tell, there were no other hidden items or compartments in the room.
Jaron turned to see Cyprus leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.
“I’m ready to go,” Jaron said. Reaching into the satchel, he pulled out the map tube and tossed it to Cyprus. “Look what I found.”
His friend caught the tube easily with one hand and opened it. His bushy eyebrows rose when he saw what it was. “This is fantastic.”
“I know,” Jaron said proudly. “Now it will be a snap to get out of here. Is everyone ready to go?”
Cyprus tilted his head as he examined the map. “We will go as soon as the sun rises.”
“Why can’t we leave now? We’ll bring a few torches and be fine,” Jaron said. He was more than ready to put this place behind him.
“It would not be wise to tempt the creatures of Fang Marsh, even with this.” Cyprus waved the map in the air. “If you look closely, you will see that it will take at least two days to reach the nearest shore.”
Jaron groaned in disappointment.
Cyprus nodded knowingly as he rolled the map and placed it back in the tube. He tossed it to Jaron who fumbled it, nearly allowing it to touch the filthy floor before he gained control.
Cyprus smirked at his clumsiness.
“I really don’t want to stay here any longer,” Jaron said after returning the map to the satchel.
“None of us do,” Cyprus said solemnly. “It is the wise choice though.”
“You’re right,” Jaron said though he didn’t like to admit it. They had suffered far longer at Myra’s hands than he had. “How long will Lurch be affected by Myra’s death?”
“Until he is claimed by another master, or freed, his malaise will likely continue. I looked outside. The effect of his collar is far worse than mine,” Cyprus said, stroking the fur of his beard. In a thoughtful tone he added, “Perhaps because he had been dominated by Myra. Yes, that must be it.”
Jaron pressed his lips into a tight line. Leaving Lurch to stumble around seemed cruel; even if minotaur’s were as awful as Cyprus claimed. He wouldn’t feel right leaving Lurch to wither away or wander near the water’s edge get eaten by a sharkodile. As far as he could tell, Lurch had been as much a victim as any of them.
“Do the kids know we’re staying here tonight?” Jaron asked.
“Of course. They know the dangers of the swamp. Some of them are already sleeping,” Cyprus said.
“Seriously? Where?” Jaron asked as he left the room to find out for himself. As he did, he could have sworn he heard Cyprus chuckling behind him.
15
Jaron woke with a start, his heart pounding and a growl bursting from his throat as he bolted upright, searching for threats. It took a few seconds to realize where he was. He ran a hand over his face and leaned back against the wall.
In his dream, Jaron had been with his platoon outside of Denver, Colorado fighting a Crithzari unit that had assaulted Buckley Air Force Base. The memory had come back with astonishing clarity. So much so that Jaron thought he had felt the ground tremble from the massive kaiju as it strode towards his unit. The inhuman roar of the creature still echoed in his ears. He always hated their cries, like a pained scream mixed with an animalistic roar. The kaiju, as they were known, were the result of the Crithzari’s biological weapon that mutated humans into monsters. So, in a way their cries were fitting.
Jaron felt someone eying him. He turned to find Kwang’s frightened face just a foot away staring at him wide-eyed. With a gasp Jaron pulled back and grimaced to keep from cursing. He chuckled at his reaction.
“Sorry for scaring you, kid.” Jaron said, letting out a heavy sigh. “Looks like you got me back.”
Kwang didn’t say anything.
“Kid?” Jaron waved his hand. “You okay?”
“Cyprus says it’s time to go,” he said, nervously ducking his head. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“Boy did I ever,” Jaron said. He stood and ruffled the boy’s dark hair. “Luckily, it was you that woke me up and not the monster in my dreams.”
Kwang’s eyes were drawn to the dagger. “Where’d you get the knife, mister?”
“Call me Jaron,” he said. “I found the knife. Do you recognize it?”
The boy shook his head.
Jaron pulled the knife out and Kwang tensed. “Don’t worry. I’m just wondering if you can help me out. Do you know what kind of horn or bone this is?”
Kwang stuck a finger in his mouth, leaned forward and took great care examining the blade. He shrugged and said, “It looks like a spidelope horn. Or maybe a girano tusk.” The boy put his fingers beside his mouth to imitate the creature.
“What kind of creatures are those?” Jaron asked with wide eyes.
“Scary animals.”
“Well, yeah. They sound scary.”
When nothing else was forthcoming, Jaron grinned and patted Kwang on the shoulder.
“I appreciate the help, buddy,” Jaron said with a chuckle.
“Sure thing mister, uh, Jaron.” Kwang ducked his head again and scurried away.
Jaron stretched his arms into the air, shaking his head at the shy boy, and began to work out the kinks from his uncomfortable sleeping position against the wall. He reached down for the satchel, slung it over his shoulder and went outside to see what was happening. There was lots of chatter and several of the children huddled near the boat.
Right away, Jaron saw Lurch sitting on a low stack of chopped wood in the shed, holding his big, furry head in his equally large hands. Zora stared at Lurch from behind a crooked tree. The minotaur glanced up at Jaron, snorted and went back to holding his head. Clearly, he had no interest in confronting anyone.
Jaron’s res
olve firmed as he reached into the satchel to make sure the key for the collar was still there. He watched the minotaur from the corner of his eye as he strode toward a small shed that sat between the woodshed and the fenced yard for the pig-cows, or whatever the creatures were called.
Jaron opened the door to the shed, hoping it wasn’t the privy and was relieved to see tools and other items, such as a sack of feed. On top of the small work bench, he found a coiled length of rope, a hammer, and some random pieces of wood, including a few lumps of metal ore. Then he had an idea. Jaron spent the next few minutes clearing space. When he finished, Jaron walked over to Lurch.
“Follow me,” Jaron said.
Lurch barely glanced at him before snuffling and resuming the staring contest with the ground.
“Come on.” Jaron motioned for him to stand up. “Follow me and before we leave, I’ll unlock your collar.”
With the pace of an annoyed teenager being asked to do chores, Lurch stood and looked down at Jaron with pleading eyes. He swayed with fatigue or whatever effect the collar had, so Jaron put out a steadying hand, not that he had much hope of keeping the massive guy from toppling over. The minotaur tensed at the contact.
“Follow me if you can,” Jaron said, removing his hand. Lurch would have to make it under his own strength.
The giant minotaur grunted.
Jaron led him to the shed. The short walk took several long minutes because Lurch was so affected by the collar. His breaths came in great huffs and snorts by the time he stopped and looked at Jaron for further directions.
Jaron waved him in. “Have a seat if you can fit.”