by Neil Hartley
"But I want to be warm, like the man in the funny dress," sniffled the young zombie.
"They're robes, not a dress," said Cuthbert. "Don't worry lad, Uncle Dreth will find us a way to make everyone warm again, won't you Uncle Dreth?"
"You may get lucky whilst I'm looking for my contract," replied Dreth. He narrowed his eyes in thought. "What did that oracle say about you? You have to redeem your sin? What sin is that then?"
Cuthbert looked up, and was quiet for a while. "It was a long time ago," he said.
Dreth waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. He shrugged to himself, and settled down to wait.
~ * ~
"Did you hear that?"
Dreth looked up, broken out if the revere that he used instead of sleep. "What?"
"I thought I heard something," said Percy, peering into the dark, back the way they came. "Maybe it's the Golem."
"We had better go," said Dreth. "Wake up the wizard, he's had long enough to rest. We should get out of here."
Cuthbert poked the sleeper, who spluttered as he awoke. "Come on wizard, we need to move," said the zombie.
Redthorne quickly packed his gear, and within short order the team was moving off again. They walked for another hour, choosing passages at random, until the tunnel started to open up.
"Finally," said Dreth.
They emerged into a vast cavern. The stalactite laden roof soared high over them, dimly lit by some sort of lichen. Straight ahead, running across from left to right, a chasm plunged into inky blackness. The path veered off, running parallel to the deep underground canyon. The other side could just be made out in the gloom, too far across to jump.
Percy peered over the edge cautiously. "That's a long way down," he said.
"Come on, keep moving," said Dreth.
They walked along the path for a while. It was twisty and uneven, and in several places narrowed alarmingly.
"Anyone know anything of this place?" asked Dreth.
"Not me," said Percy.
"Nor me," said Cuthbert.
"Me too," piped up Sprat.
"Well, you're only little," said Percy.
"Maybe so," replied Cuthbert, "but he has the brain of an adult. I think it was a ranger actually."
"What's that?" asked Redthorne, interrupting the genealogy conversation. He pointed upwards.
They followed his gaze, to see a round something swooping down upon them. A hissing noise accompanied the creature as it flew into range.
"Beholder*!" shouted the wizard, and dived to one side to avoid a beam of
energy from one of the monster's eyes.
*A magical creature. They are spherical (ball shaped) with no limbs and float in the air. Beholders have one large eye, and several other smaller ones on eyestalks. They can cast a variety of magics that emanate from these eyes, and are generally not monsters you would want to trifle with.
"Hold hold! We're on your side!" shouted Dreth, waving his arms about over his head.
The beast flipped away, flying round in a circle. It came to stop above and in front of them, and studied the group for a moment.
"We're from the undead area!" shouted up Dreth. "I'm Dreth, from the Undead Way, these are my frie... companions." He waved at the others.
"Oooh, nearly slipped there," said Cuthbert.
The beholder came closer carefully, hovering a short distance from them, over the canyon. His main eye glowed a dull white. "Zombies!" he said. "Long time since I saw any of you lot here. What do you want?"
"We're heading towards the center of the dungeon," replied Cuthbert helpfully, earning a Look from Dreth.
"Really? How exciting!" The beholder flew closer. "I always wanted to know what was in the middle." He waved some of his eyestalks. "Names' Robert," he said. "Bob for short."
Dreth introduced himself and the others. "This mage is with us," he said, pointing to the wizard, who was crouching behind a rock.
"Well, not sure about an adventurer, but if you vouch for him..." Bob was cut off from above.
"Robert! What are you doing there? Are you speaking to someone? If it's that floozy from down the way you are going to be in trouble..." The voice was high pitched and grating.
Bob sighed. "The Ball and Chain," he explained as another beholder, slightly smaller, came into view.
"Well, the ball anyway," whispered Cuthbert to Percy, nudging the other zombie and winking. Percy sniggered.
"Who's this? What are you doing speaking to intruders?" The second beholder floated next to Robert, waggling her eyestalks angrily.
"They aren't intruders. They're guardians, same as us!" protested Bob, rolling his major eye at Dreth.
"Guardians they maybe, but not like us, oh no! We do our job Robert Beholder! You may not care, but I don't want one of those letters thank you very much." She floated down a little. "Remember what happened when that giant slug refused to slime? Warning letter one day, shriveled piece of skin in a pile of salt the next. Now, you use your ray on these creatures or there will be no you-know-what for you tonight."
She bobbed next to Bob, crossed metaphysical arms and tapped a metaphysical foot.
Her husband heaved a deep sigh. "But honey..."
"Don't you honey me! You do what I say! Now, is it going to be little piles of intruder dust, or are you going to be sleeping in the hatching chamber on your own again?"
"...but I've been talking to them! How would it look if I suddenly used my disintegration beam now? Downright rude is what."
"Fine, in that case you can float up to the top of the cavern and then swoop down again. Your new friends can have that long to bugger off, or something. We run a respectable chasm here, no chatting with the victims."
Bob's face fell, he rotated to face Dreth and, incidentally, away from the missus. "Sorry, but I better do as she says. Once she's in this mood there's no talking to her..."
"I am right behind you you know!" interrupted the shrill voice.
Bob made that 'clenched teeth' look all males get at some point or other when dealing with unreasonable spouses. "Look," he continued, "if you turn about you should make it out of our territory before I reach the roof and back. It's probably for the best, you wouldn't make it through the next chamber anyway, and I really don't want to disintegrate you. It always gives me a splitting headache when I do that, which isn't funny when you're basically all head."
Dreth raised a finger. "It isn't really very convenient you know," he started.
"We don't care!" Mrs. Beholder pushed her husband out of the way. "Now, are you going to get going, or do I have to do the job myself?" She glowered at them.
Dreth scowled. He didn't want to have to fight his way through these beasts if he could help it, they had the advantage of terrain if nothing else, but he didn't really want to go back either. He scratched his head.
At his side the black sword whispered to itself. "Kiillllll...." It said.
* * *
Cavern Chaos.
Mrs. Beholder glared at them, something Beholders are well equipped to do. She opened her mouth again but Dreth raised a thin finger to forestall her.
"Excellent!" he beamed, subtly forcing Darkblood down into its sheath. "I would expect nothing less from a pair of such frightening guardians. Quite right, not to let strange creatures make their way through your cavern without any explanation. No doubt when I finally report to the management this will earn you a commendation!"
The female beholder closed her mouth for a moment and then opened it once more. Dreth spoke again before she could say anything.
"No doubt you're wondering what I'm talking about." He folded his arms and nodded. "Let me tell you why we're here, and why we're heading to the center. A Guardian Golem has gone berserk and is rampaging through the dungeon; he's been attacking hard working denizens, not unlike yourselves. I've even been forced to consort with mere adventurers to help bring him to task."
"A guardian?" asked Bob, eye swiveling left and right.
"
Yes, he's coming this way even now," said Cuthbert, stepping forward. "He piled through a whole tribe of Ogres just up the way," he gestured back towards the caverns, nearly knocking Sprat into the chasm as he did so.
"He is?" squeaked Bob's wife. "This way?"
"Under the circumstances, I'm sure that you would want to let us pass as quickly as possible, and to take refuge yourself as well. After all, we wouldn't expect you to try to actually stop a berserk Golem. That would be beyond even your abilities..."
Bob swelled up at this, expanding like a balloon being pumped too energetically. "I will have you know we are Advanced Level guardians! We're quite capable of dealing with a Golem here and there."
"Now dear," his wife floated next to him. "You know Golems are resistant to magic, your rays would have little effect, and if it's a Guardian Golem..." She paused a moment and looked at her husband.
Bob coughed and deflated a little. "Well, I suppose they aren't weak enemies, and I wouldn't want to put you in the way of something as dangerous as that. Still..."
"Look, let's go back to the hole and stay out of the way until this has blown over." Mrs. Beholder rubbed up against him.
"Before you do so, any directions would be appreciated. We're a little off course..." Dreth smiled a skull grin.
"You know, I wouldn't mind seeing the center myself," said Bob.
"Now Robert, let's let these nice undead go. You know we don't exactly get on well with Von and his creatures anyway." She started to drop away into the chasm.
Bob sighed. "I suppose so." He turned to Dreth. "Follow the path until you come to the bridge, you can't miss it. Watch for the plank in the middle though, it's a bit loose. Once you are over, turn left and take the tunnel with the large green rock next to it."
"Thank-you," said Dreth. "Your actions will be noted."
"Come on Robert!" echoed a voice from below.
Bob winked several eyes and bobbed up and down. "Have to go, good luck to you!" He turned about and dropped out of sight into the crevasse before any of them could say anything more.
"Damn, I wanted to ask him about what's ahead," said Dreth, standing on the edge and peering into the depths.
"Von and his creatures," said Percy. "Apparently."
"Let's get a move on," Redthorne stood up from behind his rock. "I feel too exposed here, and I dislike depths."
"Nice couple though," Cuthbert said conversationally as they moved off. "Must remember to ask them to our next party."
~ * ~
Two spots of red appeared in the dark, swiveling back and forth as they drew closer. The ragged kobold scout cowered against the wall. He knew it had been a risk, sneaking into these tunnels, but curiosity had finally overcome good sense. Now it pushed itself against the dead end and prayed to Kolog, the god of small beings trapped by bigger ones*.
The Golem stamped up the passage, crushing a loose rock underfoot as it did so, and then stopped as the tunnel ended in a blank wall. It had lost track of the prey, and the good mood it had built up ripping apart ogres was beginning to dissipate.
"You!" it shouted, spotting the kobold trying to meld into the rock face. The little monster fell to its knees and started wailing. The Golem picked it up between two fingers and drew it close to its mouth. "Have you seen a bunch of undead and a wizard pass by here?"
"N...n...n....n....n...no s...ssss..sir."
The Golem growled and studied the hanging form for a moment. It was insignificant, not worth wasting any time over. "Bah." Dropping the creature it turned about and stamped back up the tunnel.
*A minor god, and one that's not seen often. It hides most of the time.
Behind it there came a noise of a minor monster wetting himself.
~ * ~
Fyy Fleetfoot trod carefully as he stole up the passage. The hunting group had learned the hard way that this particular dungeon had more than it's fair share of traps and dangerous creatures. Already Hammath Highhand was holding five arrows he would have to take back to the Forest. Five arrows he would have to present to families who would see their sons and daughters no more.
Shaking his head, causing his long hair to whip to the side, he frowned. Concentrate! He admonished himself. Grasping his rapier for comfort he peered up the dark tunnel with keen amber eyes. Was that movement ahead, in the infravision range? He stopped advancing and stood silent and unmoving as only a seasoned hunter could, becoming part of the environment, at one with the surrounding stone.
Stone! If only he was back home, surrounded by the mighty trees of Jollygreenwood. Already there had been talk in the party about turning back. Only honor kept them searching.
Fyy was the very image of a woodland elf. Tall, thin, garbed in green with a feather in his cap. He had a long bow slung over his shoulder and a quiver of arrows on his back. At one hip swung a thin sword, its silver pommel elegantly designed with runes etched into the metal. Long blond hair hung down to his shoulders, covering his pointed ears, which were currently straining to catch the slightest whisper.
There! Again, a flicker of something ahead. He should report to Hammath. Stepping backwards he started a noiseless retreat. It came as a shock then, when there was a low whisper in his ear.
"Going somewhere?"
Pulling on his sword, he turned quickly about. Something smashed the side of his face, taking skin off, crushing his cheekbone and sending him flying into the wall, which he bounced off.
The elf spat out a tooth and scrabbled backwards, trying to focus with one eye filling with blood. He saw nothing, yet the front of his tunic was pulled forward. He kicked out and his foot connected. There was a grunt and Fyy's arm was twisted backwards at the elbow, breaking the joint with a splintering sound. He screamed in agony and tried to escape the grip, but whatever it was lashed out again, smashing him in the ribs and knocking him to the ground.
Fyy's thoughts turned to flight, and he grasped at the floor, attempting to pull himself along with one good arm. There was a sharp pain in his leg, and he cried out as a chunk of flesh was torn from his thigh.
He felt strong fingers grab his neck, and his head was lifted up and then smashed into the hard stone cobbles. Lights flashed before his eyes, and agony echoed around his being as he was brutally abused by the unseen attackers.
The last thing he was aware of was the sound of hard breathing, and cold jaws wrapping around his jugular, biting deeply, and feeding on his white Elven meat...
~ * ~
"You are a cowardly beast, unworthy to wield one such as I." Darkblood hissed as Dreth wiped some remaining Orc king gunk off the blade. "A fiend like you should revel in blood and slaughter. With your half-life and my powers we would be an unstoppable force for evil!" The sword pulsed a dark, throbbing light as it spoke.
"Hah. Didn't do much against Mr. Golem did you?" Cuthbert piped up from his perch on top of a boulder. "What was it again? Oh yes..." His tone took what he intended to be a high pitched girly voice. "Oooh, that so hurt me! Boo hoo!"
"You are a worthless piece of mangy flesh!" roared the sword, red flashes of energy crackling down its length. A wave of hatred emanated from the weapon, which left the zombie totally unconcerned.
"Better than an old bent piece of metal! Didn't do your previous owner much good when he came up against Dreth now, did you? All talk and no gore, that's your problem." Cuthbert stuck the remains of a rotten tongue out and attempted to blow a raspberry, but only succeeded in spitting it out. "Ahhhh mmu uuunng!" He mumbled, scrabbling after the mouth part.
Darkblood laughed in malicious glee as the zombie scuffled around, trying to locate the errant item amongst the pebbles and rocks. "I would have sliced this pathetic excuse for a guardian in two, had my owner had the wits to use me instead of grabbing for his mace," he said.
"Enough you two!" snapped Dreth, sheathing the sword and standing up. "Where is that wizard? How long does it take to relieve yourself?"
He looked around. They had passed over the canyon of the Beholder without in
cident, and were now in yet another cavern, the walls the same dull red color, slick with condensation. They had paused briefly to allow Redthorne to perform his toilet, and act which he wasn't keen to perform in front of them.
"I'll go and look for him," said Percy.
"No need." A figure loomed up out of the gloom. "I'm here. Let us proceed."
"Mmmm unngg!" protested Cuthbert, still on all fours. He lifted a rock and paused for a moment as some small insect attempted to squirm away. He picked it up and crunched down, chewing awkwardly.
"We can get you another tongue later," said Dreth. "Let's move, we've wasted enough time already." He turned and walked off.
Cuthbert took one desperate last look around, and then stood up and hurried after them.
"Asssbbbd" he spat.
They traveled on, rocks and pebbles clattering underfoot, the sounds echoing around the large cavern.
"How big is this dungeon anyway?" asked Redthorne.
Dreth shrugged. "I don't know really. Pretty big though. It's been around for a thousand years or more, so they say."
The wizards stroked his beard in thought. "And in all that time, no one has ever claimed the treasure?"
"Not that I know of," said Dreth. "But then no one tells me anything."
Redthorne opened his mouth to speak again, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by shouts and screams from Percy.
Dreth hurried forward to see the zombie rolling on the floor. Attached to his neck was a small fairy-like being, wings flapping as it bit into the undead's throat.
"Get it off! Get if off!" screamed Percy, pulling at his attacker. "OOooowoOOwww!"
Before he could take any action the creature let go and shot backwards into the air.
"Urg! Disgusting! Rotten meat! Yargg!" The small figure recoiled, spitting and wiping at her mouth.
"What do you expect?" yelled Percy back, clutching at his torn neck. "Serves you right! Hope you get food poisoning! OOow!! Little bitch!"
The flying attacker looked around as the others approached. She was small, about twice the size of a man's hand maybe. Dark hair floated about her head, and tiny wings buzzed behind her as she flitted to and fro so fast it was hard to make out her features.