"What?" Tarl and Shal reacted in unison.
"The filthy piece of dog meat said we'd all become sacrifices to the pool."
"I can't stomach any more of this," Tarl said firmly. "As I serve Tyr, let this be the first of many such temples to be destroyed by my hand." Without waiting for the others to join him, Tarl raised his hammer up next to the diorama. The heavy end slammed powerfully into the crescent-shaped pool, sending a shower of gold droplets in all directions.
"Acid!" screamed Tarl, and he shook his hammer-hand where the flesh was searing from the contact with the drops.
Ren and Shal had leaped back instinctively as Tarl's hammer came down. Mere inches from where they stood, shimmering acid was burning through every piece of wood and cloth it hit. Where the acid landed on stone, it was sizzling and spattering like water in hot grease.
Shal quickly summoned forth a skin of water from the Cloth of Many Pockets and poured it generously over Tarl's right hand, which was already raw in two places, and then over his hair, which was smoking where a drop had landed.
Enraged, fury and agony blending in his screams, Tarl lashed out again and again at the blasphemous altar, hammering with all his might until the lower end splintered and collapsed. Still he wasn't satisfied. He dropped to his knees and pounded at the miniature fountain, the hexagon, and the rest of the diorama till only splinters and fragments remained.
By then, the gnoll was screaming steadily in reaction to the destruction of the altar. Ren chopped down hard on its head again. This time, its body slumped and its hyena head lolled loosely from side to side. Unwittingly, Ren had snapped the creature's neck. Remorseless, he pushed the dead gnoll to the ground beside him and moved to calm Tarl.
The cleric had not stopped hammering, even after the diorama was pulverized. Nor did he stop now in response to the coaxing of his friends. It was not until the cloth-covered corpse balancing on the crux of the altar slid down onto his arms that he finally dropped his head and stopped. Pulling his arms loose from underneath the body, Tarl turned and faced Ren and Shal. "I–I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself."
As one, they spoke to comfort him.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I've heard of altars to Bhaal and other gods whose worship I cannot fathom, but never have I seen anything so repugnant as this. I-" Tarl paused, distracted. "The priest-what happened?"
The gnoll's body was lying on the ground behind Ren and Shal. Its jaundiced face looked even more pinched and grotesque in death than it had in life, and the fervent yellow of its eyes had been replaced by a dull umber glaze. "He's dead," Ren said matter-of-factly. "I didn't mean to kill him, but I can't say I'll stay awake nights over it."
"No," said Tarl. "He would've killed us without a second thought."
"He probably would have skinned us alive with one of those meat tenderizers," added Shal, pointing to the row of torture implements that filled a wooden cabinet against the far wall of the big room.
"By Bane and Bhaal and all that's perverse…" Ren's curse came out almost in a whisper as he eyed the morbid array of tools. Despite his lifelong habit of quickly examining everything within eyeshot upon entry to a room, he had not seen what filled the cabinet. "Gnoll religion… You're right, Tarl. It goes against nature. It's an abomination."
"Are you okay?" Shal asked suddenly, reaching for Tarl's acid-marred hand. She didn't want to think about gnoll religion or gnoll justice anymore. She'd seen enough of both, and she was worried about her friend. She poured more water over the burned spots. "What about your head? Does it hurt?"
Though Tarl had not been conscious of it until Shal brought it up, the spot on his head continued to sting, as did the two raw wounds on his hand. "I have a salve that should help." Tarl met Shal's gaze and spoke earnestly. "I'll be all right. I'm sure I'd be worse off if you hadn't reacted so quickly."
Shal released Tarl's hand and reached up and ran her fingers through his thick, silvery hair till she found the spot where the acid had splashed. He flinched as she located the jagged, finger-length depression where the hair and flesh were burned off. She poured a little more water on that spot and then on his burned hand. She completely missed the smile Tarl flashed at Ren as she asked him to give her the salve so she could apply it for him.
"Not here" snapped Ren. "If your salve smells anything like that infernal poultice you put on me last night, the gnolls will pick up the scent in a minute."
"He's right," said Tarl, sobered by Ren's words. "In fact, we're lucky they haven't heard us. The walls here must be pretty thick-better insulated than the rest of this rat trap of a fort."
"Don't underestimate the gnolls." Ren pointed back to the curtained hallway from which they'd come. "They probably did hear us. The lazy, bloodthirsty bastards are probably just waiting for us to come out. Fact is, I was hoping we'd find another way out of here. Let's look behind those curtains."
Ren's instincts were good. There was a door behind the curtains, and it led to a covered crawlspace that apparently ran behind the temple, between it and the stockade. They remembered no such corridor from the map, but the temple hadn't been on the map, either. They were pleased to find that the passageway skirted the full length of the temple. When they finally reached its end, they found themselves well beyond the entrance they had used when Ren first stormed inside. No party of gnolls lay in wait at either doorway, but the three didn't feel any worse for having taken the precaution.
Ren whispered, "The gnolls are gonna be up and around just as soon as the midday heat has passed. We've got to find what we came for and get out of here before they discover the mess we left back there." He pointed to their left and whispered again. "The bedroom should be that way. Stay close to the walls like we did when we came in." The faintest hint of embarrassment showed in his expression when he added, "And don't go looking for trouble!"
Ren moved like a shadow among the cartons and rubble that cluttered the way along the makeshift square. Shal followed, aware as always that she was no match for Ren in terms of stealth. She watched and admired his careful movements, realizing she admired even more his presence of mind and worldliness, especially his knowledge of things like gnolls, which she had never before encountered.
Tarl followed close behind Shal, conscious that he was even more distracted than usual by her catlike elegance. He could almost picture her as a shape-shifter, a powerful panther one moment, muscles rippling; the next, a powerful, sensual woman he felt so drawn to…
He paused just long enough to force his thoughts back to their mission. A single glance at the courtyard gate and the ghoulish display of heads posted there brought him quickly to the present. The guards that had been slumbering earlier were beginning to stir.
As they approached one building, they could hear the grunts and growls of several young gnolls roughhousing inside. The three blurred past the open doorway and continued on their way.
Ren whispered back to them that the next building appeared to be their destination. When they reached it, he peeked through a small window. If Ren were alone, he would have felt challenged, invigorated by what he saw. With others to worry about, he felt annoyance, disgust, and a twinge of fear.
Though defiled with refuse like everything else in the gnoll encampment, the chambers were still used as private sleeping quarters-and a huge gnoll, no doubt the chieftain, was sleeping inside, with a sleeping female gnoll naked beside him, her gangly body all the more vulgar for its revealing posture. Lamps left burning in the room exposed elaborate, though tasteless, decorations. Eye-jarring combinations of gold-leaf-framed paintings and chartreuse and magenta embroideries covered the walls. All around the foot of the huge, overstuffed bed were slumbering female gnolls, their long, knobby, fur-covered legs protruding awkwardly from garish print wraps. Ren could see no way to get to the back of the chamber except to go right through the door and past all those sleeping gnolls. He gestured at the window and gave Shal and Tarl a moment to take in the situation.
Ren moved silently up to
the door and tried it carefully. It was locked. Before Shal could even think of a spell to help, Ren had it open with his picks. He slipped inside with the ease and stealth of a mink. Shal and Tarl followed, their movements as close to Ren's as they could make them, but Ren was already past the sleeping females and across the room when Shal was just beginning to tiptoe her way through and Tarl was still easing the door shut to avoid attracting attention.
The creatures snorted and grunted in their slumber. Occasionally one would stir, letting an arm slip to the floor or rolling over to a more comfortable position. One started pawing and writhing, apparently in the throes of a dream, and clipped Shal with a clawed foot as she tried to edge by. She sucked in a breath of air and then kept her teeth clamped shut to keep from crying out from the stinging pain. Behind her, Tarl dodged to one side to avoid the restless sleeper, and the two finished crossing the room without incident.
At the back of the sleeping quarters, behind a gaudily embroidered curtain, stood a door that, according to the map, should lead to the inner bedroom, where they would find the hidden treasure vault. The three filed in behind the curtain. Ren touched the door handle-and immediately jerked his hand back. Pain ripped through his body, and it took all of his years of training as a ranger and a thief to stifle the scream that threatened to burst through his tightly clenched teeth. When finally the jets of pain had eased their pulsing, he turned to Shal and mouthed the words "Wizard-locked."
Shal felt as if she had endured the tremendous jolt of pain Ren had just suffered right along with him. She marveled once again at the big man's endurance. Gently she touched his shoulder as she slipped cautiously, quietly in front of him. She was gratified to see that her touch had a quieting effect on Ren. Voicelessly she called for Cerulean, mentally shouting the thought Silence is critical! to the horse to avoid his clumping out of the cloth like a bumbling clown.
To her great relief, the horse emerged from the velvet square with no more than a whisper of sound. He nuzzled his mistress's shoulder and reminded her to cast a spell of Protection. Quickly she whispered the incantation and nodded. Cerulean touched the door with his nose. As at Denlor's tower, he immediately began to glow, but this time he glowed a brilliant amethyst, and there was no crackling sound to be heard. When the magical energy abated, the door swung open.
For one painful moment, all four held their breath, waiting for the door to crash against the inside wall. It did not. Shal held up the cloth, and Cerulean poured in without so much as a Do I have to? Shal thanked him mentally and entered the room.
When Tarl and Ren were both inside as well, Shal sealed the door with a little magic of her own. They found themselves in complete blackness, and Shal took out her light wand so they could see. "Cadorna said noth-" Shal stopped as she saw the look of horror on Ren and Tarl's faces. She realized immediately what was wrong and explained her boldness in speech. "Nobody's going to hear us now. This is a wizard's spell-casting chamber. It's soundproof. They all are."
Ren swallowed to avoid the temptation to whisper in contrast to Shal's brazenness. "What-what were you going to say?" he asked nervously.
She finished the thought. "Cadorna didn't say anything about a wizard, either in his family or among the gnolls."
"I think he would've said something if he knew," Ren reasoned out loud. "If I'd taken a tighter grip on that door, I'd be dead from the charge. If he could help it, I don't think Cadorna would've risked having us die before we could get the treasure."
"Cadorna knew from the map only that there was a treasure," said Shal, agreeing. "He probably didn't know the thing was wizard-locked." Shal gasped as she turned and faced the opposite wall for the first time. Painted on the wall were two coiled snake emblems identical to the one she had seen on the armband of Ranthor's murderer. Her eyes widened, and she started breathing with a rapidity that frightened both Ren and Tarl.
"What is it, Shal? What's wrong?" asked Tarl hurriedly.
Ren reached out and touched Shal on the shoulder, much as she had touched his a moment ago.
Shal pointed, but for a moment she couldn't say anything, and when she did speak, it was not in her recently acquired rich, husky voice, but in a breathless, almost childlike stammer. "The symbol-the s-snake… It's like the one… Ranthor's k-killer wore. It stabbed him again and again… Cadorna was right. The gnoll… the half-gnoll outside… He m-must be Ranthor's killer! He must be a magic-user. And that must be his sign!"
Ren rested his hands on both of Shal's shoulders and spoke calmly, firmly. "Shal, the gnoll leader could be Ranthor's killer, but that sign-the coiled snake-is common in these parts. I've seen it all over the place. And I doubt that any gnoll or even half-gnoll has ever been inside this room. Look around. There's not a scrap of trash anywhere, and other than the coiling snakes-which are admittedly pretty ugly-this place doesn't look too bad. Compared to the stuff outside-the bright green curtains and all-this just doesn't look like a place where gnolls have been."
Shal glanced from side to side, then turned her head and began to take slow, deep breaths. Ren was right. The room showed no sign of gnoll occupation. In fact, it was practically dust-free, an indication that the wizard lock had probably not been opened any time recently. Shal knew from experience that a wizard's chambers normally get dusty when they're in regular use, not when they're vacant. She didn't know immediately what to make of the signs before her. But she did know that she no longer cared if the killer was human, humanoid, or monster, a half-gnoll or the ruler of the land. She was going to find him regardless and avenge her master's death. Shal reached up, touched Ren's hands with her own, and lowered them from her shoulders. "Let's get what we came for," she said, composed once again.
The vault proved to be well hidden. It wasn't until Shal cast a Detect Magic spell that a sizable emerald-colored square began to glow on the wall. A simple cantrip opened the door, which apparently was not wizard-locked because it was so carefully hidden that it didn't seem necessary. When they entered the vault, it took only a glance to realize that the Cadorna family treasure was still intact. Several bricks of gold bullion shone brilliantly, even in the dull, unnatural light from the wand. Behind them were a forged gold brooch inlaid with coral and ivory, several gold and silver chains, and a superbly preserved, shatter-glaze vase, obviously an ancient piece from the Eastern Realms. There was also a chain-mail vest, a splendid example of the finest dwarven workmanship. Ren's eyes gleamed when he saw it, but Tarl cast Ren a withering look that spoiled his taste for the garment. On further examination, the vest proved to be of a size for a dwarf, anyhow, and would be of no use to Ren.
In one corner of the vault were two gold armbands and a locket, both embossed with the coiled snake design they had seen on the wall outside the vault. Shal looked questioningly at Ren as he picked up the three pieces. "Cadorna?"
"I'll only say what I did before. This is a common symbol in these parts. You'd probably do well to look it up in that library we passed by-some other day, of course."
Shal said no more. She slipped the vase and the armor into the Cloth of Many Pockets. The bullion and jewelry, Ren and Tarl divided up and placed in their packs.
The three left the wizard's chamber as quietly as they had entered. Outside, they were greeted by the reassuring snores of the gnoll leader and his mates. Just as they were about to step from behind the curtain, however, a deafening gong sounded in the courtyard, and squeals and screams resounded from one end of the compound to the other.
They could see nothing from where they stood, plastered tight against the wall behind the curtain, but they could hear the chaos in the room beyond when the gnoll leader leaped from his bed, kicking females out of his way as he scrambled to reach the courtyard. Then they heard scrambling noises as the dozen or so gnoll mates pushed and shoved their way out the door after him.
"Can you call that horse of yours out?" asked Ren.
Shal nodded.
"Good. Just as soon as we clear the door, you two mount up an
d get out of here while the camp is still in an uproar. I'll act as a decoy till you can get across the courtyard. You can count on the gnolls to fight in lines like fools. I'll manage somehow to dodge my way past them, but be ready to pick me up!"
Shal and Tarl followed Ren's instructions without hesitation. In moments, they were mounted on Cerulean's broad back, plowing through the center of the courtyard in the midst of the chaos. Shal held the Staff of Power out at just the right height to clip the tall gnolls in the neck as they approached, sending them to the ground like so many ninepins. Others who managed to duck under the staff reached up, grabbing, trying to stop the big horse, but Cerulean was relentless. Tarl, in the meantime, was swinging his hammer with passion.
At that moment, the air was pierced by a loud war whoop, and Ren emerged into the courtyard, brandishing his twin daggers. Immediately several disorganized groups of gnolls began to advance toward him. Ren knew that the key to fighting gnolls was to avoid getting hit. The creatures were big and gangly and awkward in their movements, but when they connected, the person at the receiving end of a blow seldom got up. In a blur of motion, Ren began to dodge, duck, and knife his way through the lines. One gnoll got hold of his shoulder and shoved him down roughly, so that his elbow jammed hard into the rocky ground. It took all of Ren's presence of mind and willpower to ignore the pain and jump quickly back to his feet, but before he could get free, a gnoll's spiked cudgel slammed into his left hand, goring through flesh and bone and pulverizing the flat of his hand with its impact.
The pain was like a massive electrical charge that jolted through Ren's body. He felt as if his insides were going to burst, just as air would explode from a burst balloon. He could no longer react rationally, but fought on in a frantic, instinctive, uninhibited frenzy. Pain and fear drove him forward with a fury that was frightening. With his good hand, he drew out a short sword and wielded it with such a vengeance that he emasculated one gnoll with a swing, then gashed partway through the belly of another with his next. Even the bloodthirsty gnolls grew wary, and Ren sensed that he had to keep moving while he retained the advantage. As he started to dart across the courtyard, he came face to face with the huge gnoll chieftain.
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