d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  As Dusty jumped again and again, trying to catch the floating headband, the party's last remaining flask of oil smashed into the wall right next to him, splashing his face and upper body with the highly flammable liquid. It took less than a second for his hair to catch. But the real damage came when a stray spark touched his fake armor, which burst into flames like it was made out of… well, papier-mâché.

  Tim shrugged. “When in Rome.” He tossed out the rest of his caltrops toward Dusty. The false cleric screamed and tore at his fiery costume, stumbling around until his left foot found one of Tim's caltrops. He shrieked and fell over, landing on a couple more caltrops in the process. He was just close enough for Cooper to grab his arm and pull him toward the bars of their cell.

  Dave lit a torch off of Dusty and threw it onto Gimble's desk. The drow's books and papers started to go up in flames.

  “What was that for?” said Julian, still concentrating on the Headband of Intellect, bringing it back toward him.

  “Because fuck that guy,” said Dave.

  Tim found a piece of Dusty's cloak that wasn't on fire and ripped the entire garment off of him. He folded and flipped and stomped on it until the fire was out. In the meantime, Cooper took a nice long leak on Dusty until he had that fire under control as well.

  It didn't take long for Tim to find what he was looking for. Every self-respecting rogue should have a quality set of Thieve's Tools on his person. And the set Tim found in a secret pocket of Dusty's cloak looked to be very high quality indeed. He had the cell door open in no time.

  Miraculously, both Dusty and Gimble appeared to still be alive. They'd probably be skipping the gym today, but with a few days rest or a bit of clerical healing, they'd probably pull through, even if half of Dusty's body was covered in third-degree burns and Gimble's foot was the size of a basketball. Dave shooed the snakes away with a torch, and Cooper dragged both of the semi-conscious bodies into the cell. Tim tied the two together back to back, and put the large sack over their heads and upper bodies, because fuck them.

  Julian tucked the Headband of Intellect into his pocket. “We should get out of here while everyone's looking for us in the back of the catacombs.”

  “Good idea,” said Tim. “Follow me, and try to be as quiet as you can.” He opened the door. At least a dozen drow spearmen looked down at him. “Fuck.”

  “You lot need to come with us,” said the drow in front. His voice was not angry or threatening. It was the calm and confident voice of someone who would welcome a bit of resistance.

  The corridors here were more along the lines of what Tim had expected in a catacomb. Great cavities were carved into the walls, perfect for housing coffins. If there were ever any coffins in here, they were gone now. Most of the cavities were empty. But in a few of them, Tim spotted young drow, reading a book or playing cards. They would stop whatever they were doing and look at the sad group of prisoners as they passed.

  The corridors here were also much bigger than the ones in the back of the catacombs. There was plenty of room for a line of guards to flank the four prisoners on either side. They didn't even bother disarming Cooper or Dave, but most of the spears were concentrated in Cooper's direction.

  “Where are we going?” Tim dared to ask.

  Much to Tim's surprise, he was answered. “We're taking you to Lord Silverwind.” The voice that spoke up was female. Tim was very curious as to what a female drow looked like, but he didn't want to push his luck.

  Thunk! “Ow!” said Cooper.

  “Eyes straight ahead,” commanded an assertive male voice. Tim felt he had made the right decision.

  Tim whispered to Julian, who was marching beside him. “If ever there was a time to pull a good Diplomacy roll out of your ass –”

  “Enough chatter up front!”

  “Why didn't you hit him on the head?” asked Cooper. Thunk! “Ow! Fuck, man!”

  “No more talking!”

  They only walked for a few more minutes before the drow in charge called them to halt in front of a large set of polished wooden double doors.

  The doors opened inward into a dark room which felt large, despite the fact that Tim couldn't see more than five feet into it. Their footsteps echoed as if they were walking through an empty cathedral. Tim and Julian held on to one another as they shuffled slowly forward.

  “Forgive me,” a deep voice echoed out of the darkness. “It has been so long since I've had light-dwellers visit me down here. Lights please.”

  And so it was done. The light in the room rose suddenly from complete darkness to eerily dim as drow along the perimeter of the circular chamber placed light-enchanted stones into sconces along the wall. Two more stones were placed to either side of the leader's chair.

  The chair was an impressive sight. It looked to be made entirely of human bones. Five feet wide at the skull-lined base, and the back of it rose at least eight feet high, constructed mostly of femurs. The large arms of the chair were just a line of ribs running down each side, until they gave way to an explosion of finger bones running down the front, as if the chair itself was constantly trying to grab whoever was looking at it.

  Depending on how structurally sound the chair was, it could easily have sat a giant. A drow should look silly in such a large piece of furniture. But the drow who sat in it now, presumably Silverwind, did not look silly in the slightest. His legs didn't dangle over the front like a child's. Instead he sat cross-legged. The effect made it seem like he was sitting atop an altar.

  “Nightshadow, Duskblade,” said the drow on the bone throne. “Fetch my brother to bear witness. Drag him here against his will if you must.” He looked directly at Tim. “And the gods help this sorry band of scoundrels if any harm has come to him.”

  “About that,” said Dave.

  “Silence!”

  The spearman directly in front of Dave swirled his weapon overhead, around his back, and brought the bottom end of the shaft up right into Dave's nuts. Dave groaned and dropped to his knees.

  “My name,” the leader continued in a civil tone while Dave writhed on the ground, “is Lord Silverwind. You stand accused of trespassing, murder, and the destruction of property. Have you anything to say for yourselves?'

  Tim looked for an out. There were none. The group of guards who had escorted them in remained behind them, and now they were sandwiched between an equal force of guards in front of them.

  “We plead not guilty on all counts, your honor,” said Julian.

  Silverwind looked curiously at the drow standing directly below him. He merely shrugged.

  Dave finally managed to struggle back up to his feet.

  Silverwind leaned forward. “Surely you don't deny standing before me right now. Is that not proof enough of your trespassing at least?”

  Julian took a step forward, and was immediately met by the tips of half a dozen spears. He bowed his head. “Apologies, my lord. We were coaxed here by a human who was in league with your brother to enslave you all.”

  A soft murmur of laughter rumbled through the guards and bystanders. Even Silverwind himself had a laugh. He lowered his feet over the edge of the bone throne, and actually did look like more of a child now.

  “This human you speak of,” said Silverwind. “Do you propose that he was the one who stabbed one of my men through the back, and then proceeded to shoot and set fire to another one?”

  “Absolutely,” said Julian without blinking an eye. Tim was impressed. If you're going to lie, you might as well go all out.

  Silverwind raised a hand, and the laughter ceased at once. “I must say, that is the boldest and most desperate defense I've ever been presented with. You have made me laugh, young elf, but I'm afraid that will not be enough to save you.”

  “What if I offer you proof that my testimony is genuine?” asked Julian.

  Silverwind hopped down from the bone throne. “Listen, light-dweller. I appreciate the lengths you are going to in order to spare you and your friends' lives. But let's
be honest. This is an embarrassing display. Would you not prefer to die an honorable death?”

  “I speak the truth!” Julian insisted. “We stopped your brother from performing a blood ritual which would have turned you all into his slaves!”

  The chamber erupted with laughter again. Silverwind raised his hand and the laughter eventually quieted down.

  “So you say,” said Silverwind, smiling sympathetically. “Here's the problem, though. My brother, for all his passion and ambition, is an idiot. He lacks the charisma to be a leader and the intelligence to cast such a powerful spell. The poor bastard can barely throw together a Magic Missile.”

  Julian crossed his arms defiantly. “And therein lies my proof.”

  “We are not pressed for time,” said Silverwind. “And you have no chance of escape. Since my men find you so entertaining, I shall allow you to carry on with your nonsensical blathering until such time as I grow bored with it. Do tell, what is this proof you keep insisting you have?”

  “I want your word that you will set us free if you are satisfied with my testimony,” said Julian.

  “You have it,” said Silverwind curtly. “Now say what you have to say.”

  “Can we trust him?” Julian whispered. “I mean, he is black after all.”

  “I beg your pardon,” said Silverwind.

  “I really wish you'd learn to say the word drow,” said Tim. “It's not hard.”

  “Whatever,” said Julian. “He's evil, right? How do we know we can trust him?”

  Tim thought for a moment before speaking. “If he's Lawful Evil, he'll stay true to his word.”

  “What the hell is Lawful Evil?”

  “It doesn't matter,” said Tim. “We can discuss it later. Right now, I don't think we have any choice but to trust him.”

  That's when Cooper farted. It was a quiet squeal at first, like a kettle letting you know the water's beginning to boil. But when all eyes turned to him, he let it rip like an untied balloon. The two guards directly behind him dropped their spears, fell to their knees, and vomited.

  “Sorry,” said Cooper. “I've been holding that in since we got here.”

  “Enough!” shouted Silverwind. “You make a mockery of these proceedings! My patience is exhausted. Either provide sufficient evidence to support your wild accusations, or suffer a slow and agonizing death!”

  “Here it is!” said Julian. He reached into his pocket and produced the Headband of Intellect. “If my understanding is correct, this went missing some years ago.”

  Silverwind pushed his way through the guards. “Give it here!” He put out his hand.

  Julian nervously dropped the headband into Silverwind's hand. “We had a deal.”

  Silverwind donned the headband. His eyes rolled back in his head and his body trembled. When he came to again, he addressed his people.

  “What the elf says is true!”

  “It can't be,” said his second in command. “Blackfeather is an idiot and a coward to be sure... but a traitor?”

  “There can be no other explanation.”

  Tim heard the double doors open behind him, but dared not turn around. A moment later, a drow in sleek black plate armor approached Silverwind and whispered in his ear. It was a prolonged whisper, and the longer it went on, the wider the grin grew across the drow leader's face.

  “How delightful,” said Silverwind when his messenger had finished his report. “Do bring them in.”

  The armored drow dashed away like an evil gazelle. When he re-entered, the chamber was filled with Blackfeather's moans, Dusty Sheglin's raspy, shallow breathing, and gasps from all the drow who looked upon them.

  When they came into view, Tim couldn't believe either of them were still alive. Dusty looked to be more char than man, and Blackfeather's right leg looked like it belonged to someone who lived at a Sizzler buffet.

  “Yeee!” Blackfeather cried out as an accompanying drow tossed the burnt, blackened corpse of a rat onto his swollen leg.

  “Oliver,” Julian whispered, taking Ravenus from his shoulder and hugging him tightly against his chest.

  Dave lowered his head. “Oops.”

  “Duskblade,” said Silverwind. “Escort these men to the surface.” He looked at Tim. “With the understanding that they will forget all about this place and never return.”

  Tim nodded enthusiastically.

  “My lord,” the second in command spoke up. “What of the deaths of Stormsong and Cloudwhisper? Surely, that cannot go unpunished.”

  Julian bit his lower lip and pointed at the charred, wheezing figure of Dusty Sheglin.

  Silverwind paused in thought. He looked at his second. “I am no fool. The truth of exactly what transpired here today may never be known. It is a certainty that these men are less innocent than they claim. By how much, who can say? What I do know is that if it were not for them, you and I both might currently be under the spell of this sniveling buffoon here. But aside from that, I am a drow of my word.”

  The second bowed his head. “You are wise and just, my lord.”

  “If you gentlemen would follow me,” said Duskblade.

  The guards aligned themselves into two columns leading toward the double doors and held their spears vertically.

  Before they left, Cooper knelt down next to Dusty. “I'm going to eat your share of the rations, cockbag. And later when I shit it out, I'm going to keep it in a jar and call it Dusty.”

  Duskblade led them through a short labyrinth of subterranean passages, through doors, up and down stairs. Every now and again, he'd stop to point out a trip wire, a weight-sensitive stone in the floor, or even an entirely illusory section of floor masking a thirty foot drop into a spike pit.

  Some of the traps Tim was confident that he would have discovered himself before falling prey to them. Others he gave himself fifty/fifty odds on. A few of them he recognized to be beyond his meager Trapfinding ability.

  He finally stopped in front of a large granite entryway. “Beyond this door lies your freedom. Use it wisely and never return to this place.” It occurred to him that this was the first time the drow had spoken since they left Silverwind's chamber.

  “Don't worry about that,” said Tim. “We've already forgotten it. Right, guys?”

  “Forgotten what?” asked Dave with a desperate laugh.

  If Duskblade was amused, he did not show it. He scowled at Tim, and then at Dave. Only his red eyes moved on his black stony face. Then he nodded. “Sleep.”

  “Huh?” said Tim. He thought maybe he heard a shout, but he might have just dreamt it.

  *

  Tim woke up bathed in sunlight and surrounded by tall, green grass, looking straight up into the bluest sky he'd ever seen. Something nearby was grunting and smacking, and Tim hoped that it wasn’t some wild beast feasting away on one of his friends. As quietly as he could, Tim stood up and tiptoed toward the noise.

  Even if he had made a successful Move Silently check, anyone paying the slightest bit of attention would have seen him coming from a considerable distance, his movement given away by a green explosion of grasshoppers making way for him whenever he stepped.

  Cooper, however, was not paying the slightest bit of attention. With his mouth slurping up the contents of one of their lunchboxes, as it was, he probably wouldn’t have noticed a stampede of rhinoceroses if Tim had sent one bounding his way.

  “Hey,” said Tim.

  Cooper stopped eating and turned around. “Hey Tim,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “You’re really going to town on that lunchbox.”

  “It’s my second one,” said Cooper. “I had a promise to keep, after all. I’ll tell you what, though. General Gore did not overestimate his wife’s cooking prowess. Bitch knows how to pack a lunch. Julian’s over there.” He pointed to a flattened out trail of grass. “Go grab one for yourself.”

  Tim found Dave and Julian lying face down next to one another. Dave was snoring like a motherfucker, and Julian had his arm around Ravenu
s (also sleeping) like he was a teddy bear. Julian’s bag was wide open, so Tim grabbed a lunchbox and joined Cooper again.

  “Where are we?” asked Tim, nibbling a bit of hard tack. Much to his surprise, it was tastier than hard tack had any right to be. There was a hint of ginger in it.

  “Fuck if I know,” Cooper said, puzzling over how he was meant to consume the goat milk from the cat bladder. It didn’t come with a straw. Tim was about to suggest poking a small hole in it when Cooper just popped the whole thing in his mouth, bit down, gulped down the liquid, and spat out the bladder. After a moment’s pause, he picked up the bladder and popped it in his mouth again. “It’s meat, right?”