Another Stupid Trilogy

by Bill Ricardi

  Tara patted Toby’s arm, then took up the telling of the tale. “The elders of my church were contacted. With the scrying results in hand, several friendly organizations were willing to help and contribute funds. 1,500 gold was raised as a bounty. Toby and I will be donating our shares back to church of Melflavin, to help rebuild the site after it is liberated. Anything that we find, anything not a temple possession or relic of course, is ours to keep.”

  The female minotaur took a deep breath before wiping the tears from her eyes. “Questions?”

  I raised a hand. “Should we assess the situation and feel that we need more help, what are our options?”

  Rick was the one who answered, “Other than pulling out, there is a mercenary company in Eastern Hook called the ‘Jacks of Fate’. Knowing their pricing we wouldn’t come out of this with much, if anything at all, should we be forced to go that route. This mission is too risky for apprentices from the Arcane University, and with so many people on vacation or on other adventures during this period, we aren’t going to find reinforcements for shares of the loot.”

  The next question was from Will, “Given the mention of shadows and unholy rituals, do we have a stock of holy water on hand?”

  Tara nodded. “Both my temple and the Order of the Snow were kind enough to donate holy water. We have two sealed jars each, which Toby will pass out after we’re on the road.”

  And that’s exactly what happened. Once we made our way through the throngs of tourists and vendors, foot traffic started to thin out. The dirt road leading northeast of the city wasn’t a popular local destination. After hiking for half an hour, we stopped so that Toby could distribute little clay jars of holy water. He mentioned, “The scrying found an intact gardener’s shed just outside the old temple. We can rest and prepare our spells there, after things are scouted out properly.”

  I noticed Toby had acquired a small buckler shield sporting the holy symbol of Aro-Remset. It was strapped to his left forearm, which allowed the big paladin to swing the Axe of McGrondle one handed with some options for active defense, or two handed when offense was the only goal.

  I was glad that we dressed as lightly as possible for this venture. The noon sun hammered down upon us mercilessly. Had I been wearing my normal, more protective robes, I would have passed out on the trail a thousand paces back. As it was, our pace was plodding. Tara often offered water to Ames and myself, while Toby did the same for the humans. I was surprised and relieved to know that one piece of divine favor that Tara could call upon was the conjuration of purified water. I watched in wonder as Melflavin was invoked, and both of the minotaurs’ empty wineskins were rapidly swelling once more.

  Out of all of us, Ames was suffering the most. That permanent, heavy fur coat combined with the were-cat’s need for protective leathers was a cruel combination in this climate. The white feline had their jaw cracked open in a pant, tongue lolling out of the side of their muzzle. I had to make an effort not to laugh at the sight of it, despite how much I loved my kitten. When our path briefly took us past the beach, we offered to stop and allow the cat to take a quick swim. After weighing the benefits against the discomfort of soaked fur under sweaty leathers, Ames passed.

  I noted, “We could always shave your coat down a little bit.”

  The glare that I got from the cat was all the answer that I needed. No shaving, check.

  We were on high alert, as there had been reports of wild creatures in the area. As the climate on Panos became hotter towards the edges and colder in the mountains, wildlife was affected. Predators had to leave the comfort of their usual hunting grounds. Prey-creatures had to push further into populated areas in order to forage enough to survive. As with any change, there were winners and losers. Given the spike in civilian casualties along traditional travel and trade corridors, the sentient races of Panos could be considered losers in this particular case.

  Perhaps that was why I heard Ames murmur, “There are no frontiers anymore.”

  I leaned in and whispered into one of those triangular ears, “What do you mean dear?”

  Ames said, “Nothing.” The were-cat often liked to feign simplicity. I knew better.

  Five hours later and we were closer to the edge of the jungle than we were Eastern Hook itself. The old temple was visible just up the road. Bleached sea rocks had been squared off and piled high some centuries ago. There was no elven magic at play here. Simple human engineering fundamentals were what raised that structure, which was one of the reasons that the order of Melflavin loved it so much that they bought it, some three decades ago. There was one nod to the elven side of Melflavin’s clergy: Thick conjured glass panes glittered as light from the setting sun in the west struck them. The shattered stained glass windows had been replaced just prior to the temple’s rededication in 2689. Sitting on the back half of the church, like a shell on the back of a turtle, was an observatory. The blunt tip of a large telescope was evident even from here. The advancement of astronomical science was one of the Order of Melflavin’s greatest achievements.

  Ames’ keen eyes noticed something about the windows as we closed in on our destination. Black curtains hung behind every single one of them, affording the current occupants the kind of privacy they desired. For some reason, that fact upset me more than the simple retelling of the tragedy by the minotaurs. The fact that there were usurpers, invaders inside of this grand structure… I’ll admit that it angered me. Certainly there was already an emotional stake given our association with Toby and Tara. But those dark curtains made we want to storm in, tear them down, and let the light of day flood into the corrupted temple.

  Will must have seen how upset and worked up I was getting. As we walked, the small human distracted me by mentioning, “I think it’s a real rarity to have three couples as an adventuring group. You often see one couple, as it does tend to become a family business. But I can’t recall another group that has paired off to this degree.”

  I was surprised by the statement, as was Toby. The minotaur rumbled, “So, you’re saying that it’s true.”

  Will look confused. “That what’s true?”

  I clarified, “That you and Rick are together?”

  The older, taller human started rubbing his eyes. “Of course we’re together.” he stated, sounding tired.

  Tara chimed in, “I must admit, every time that you referred to yourselves as ‘partners’, I didn’t know which meaning you were referring to.”

  I nodded in agreement, “I’ve been with them longer, and I always wondered the same.”

  Will looked exasperated. “Well of course Sorch. Are you being serious right now?”

  Toby mentioned, “I’ve know you both for years, and, um… I wasn’t really sure until right now.”

  Rick said, dryly, “I’m not the most demonstrative person in public when it comes to such things.”

  Will considered these revelations. “So whenever I mentioned that we were partners, you just assumed I was talking about The Magic Shop?”

  I chuckled a bit, “In my case I assumed that it could be both, but I didn’t want to pry.” Tara and Toby both nodded in support of my position.

  The small human shrugged happily. “Oh. Well, it’s both!”

  Rick said, his tone deadpan, “Lucky me.”

  Ames had been quiet throughout this exchange, but chose that moment to chime in with an astute observation, “I note that there was no objection when Will mentioned three couples. Does this mean that you two tall beasts are back together?”

  There was a unified chorus of um’s and uhh’s from the minotaurs.

  Tara settled on, “We’re dating.”

  Toby nodded, those big black horns bobbing up and down. “Dating! Yes, that’s accurate.”

  For my benefit, Rick made a circle with the fingers of one hand and completed the rude gesture with with the fingers of his other hand. I snorted with laughter. As we were bringing up the rear, everyone else missed the human’s silent joke.

  W
e reached the gardener’s shack on church grounds just as the sun was setting behind the jungle’s canopy. It was around six paces deep by eight paces wide, and mostly empty. There was plenty of space to stretch out and make camp.

  Tara said, “We can’t make a fire in here, but we hardly need it given the climate. And Sorch has that silly pot…”

  I objected, “Silly?!”

  The minotaur priestess continued, “...silly pot so we can still make a hot meal. Toby and I will take middle watch so that the mages get an uninterrupted block of sleep. Does that sound about right?”

  We were all nodding in agreement. So far Tara had proven to be an excellent expedition leader. Everything was not only planned out in detail, but there were several contingency plans that we would need to consider implementing in the future. We had designated fallback points if we were being overrun, and a couple of different whistled tones that we could use to express things like ‘attack’ or ‘run away’ when we were talking to intelligent beings and didn’t want them to know the plan.

  As I was preparing dinner, Ames and Tara were discussing a quick scouting mission before bed. The humans were weighing in with a couple of interesting options as well. With all that sound in our confined area, it took us a while to notice the much fainter sound from outside.

  Ames held up a paw and requested, “Quiet.”

  In our newfound silence, we all heard it. Just a curious little resonance; something rubbing or scratching against the wooden door of the shed. Toby took up the Axe of McGrondle and went over to the door. Ames readied their hand crossbow, and Tara moved to stand just behind Toby, cudgel at the ready. The rest of us spread out towards the back of the room. Tara looked satisfied, and touched her boyfriend’s shoulder.

  Toby reached out to open the door with the hand of his shield arm. He only got as far as turning the knob when a sudden, brutal force bowled him over as the door swung wide open.

  Because our Light spell was at the center of the room and this was happening at the edge of the illumination, it was difficult to see what exactly had pounced on our friend. It was a black shape on all fours, making an unearthly snarling sound. And there were more pouring into the little room.

  Toby had jammed the handle of his magical axe into the maw of the creature that attacked him. Clearly they were strong, as the struggle that ensued was not trivial for the big minotaur. The next creature leapt over our fallen friend and tried to snap at Tara, but she swung her large shield right at the shadowy beast’s head, knocking it out of the air as the sickening sound of cracking bone filled the shed. Ames followed up with a crossbow shot that seemed to connect. Oddly the downed fiend seemed to fall apart and vanish in the half light. Two more of the beasts pushed in from the outside however, leaving us no time to wonder what in the hells was going on.

  Rick and Will coordinated on the next beast through the door as it ran at Ames. When it pushed into the radius of our Light spell, we were able to make out what it was. A black panther, but deformed, twisted. I felt no sympathy for the beast as twin rains of Magic Missiles swarmed around it and stung its hide right down to the bone. It didn’t bleed however, which was never a good sign. Ames engaged it with their short sword as Tara stepped up to intercept the next freakish jungle cat that tried to charge into our back line. The room was starting to smell like death.

  I hardly felt the drain from casting my Acid Bolt. My adrenaline was so high from the ambush, I was already thinking unclearly. My bolt slammed into the side of the creature on top of Toby, rather than dealing with the next one that had just slinked through the door. This was fine with the paladin however, as the snarling, squirming creature allowed itself to be flipped over and pinned under the weight of the minotaur. A flash of the Axe of McGrondle left it without a head. The body suddenly melted away, leaving Toby confused.

  Though it was risky, Rick stepped up next to Ames and started to chant. A gout of flame shot from his fingers, catching both the rear end of the creature trying to bite Tara as well as the new one that had stepped into the room. Three things happened. The scorched cat leapt back when it was scalded, once again blocking the door. Tara was able to land a blow with her big club on her own burnt abomination. And Rick set the shed on fire.

  Ames had managed a couple of quick stabs on the creature facing them, but the incisions seemed to have little effect. The were-cat cried out, “Some help with the damned fire please!” Will grabbed the handle of my cast iron pot and splashed the wall nearest to Ames, keeping the inferno from spreading for the moment.

  Toby and Tara were through with this particular assault. He raised his shield and she lifted the holy symbol around her neck. Together they invoked the combined power of Aro-Remset and Melflavin to turn the undead assault. An ear piercing series of feline shrieks and snarls filled the air. The remaining beasts turned tail and ran away from the shed at full speed, disappearing into the night.

  I finished my incantation, squeezed the small water flask in my off hand, and a Fan of Frost erupted from the air in front of me. The burning wooden wall was extinguished instantly. Toby quickly slammed and locked the door.

  Will called out, “Everyone okay?” We all responded with vague affirmatives.

  For about thirty seconds, nobody said anything else. We just panted and regained our wits. Will replaced the hot iron pot, putting it back onto the circle of stones that we had gathered. Wordlessly, Rick refilled the pot from his waterskin so that it could start to boil again.

  I broke the silence. “What in the hells was that?!”

  Ames ventured a guess, “Panthers that were… undead? Demonic?”

  Tara said, “Vampiric.” Her tone was certain.

  Will frowned at that assessment. He murmured a quick incantation and centered the Light cantrip on the doorframe so that there was better illumination on the other side of the room.

  Toby stared down at the pile of dust at his feet. “That’s where I beheaded one.”

  Ames gestured towards the other pile, “And my wooden bolt must have taken that one in the heart.”

  I went back to preparing the herbs and meat for the stew while the others discussed the situation. Vampire lore was a subject that was out of my field of expertise.

  Eventually, Rick and Will passed out a few of the thin wooden stakes that they used for casting Light spells on and marking things in the wilderness. I remember that they had used those to mark our icy dugout on the trip to the salt mines, so many months ago.

  Tara said, “As long as we each have a couple of these, we can finish off anything that we fell before it can regenerate. Assuming there are more of these things, our allies will be holy water, fire, daylight, stakes through the heart, and decapitation.”

  Toby said, grimly, “There will be more. Black curtains in the windows.”

  Rick’s tone was no more cheery. “To block out the sunlight. There’s at least one vampire in the church.”

  I added the ingredients to the pot and then sat back to watch it boil. “Wouldn’t a group of clerics be able to handle a vampire?”

  My question hung in the air without answer. Clearly there was more to this story then we knew.

  After dinner and a little bit of conversation to lighten the mood, the other four turned in. Ames and I stayed up to take our watch. We sat side by side facing the door, with our backs against the wall.

  “Do you know much about vampires, kitten?”

  The were-cat rubbed my knee, in what I assume was meant to be a comforting gesture. “Some. If you recall the time I told you about how we got funding for the Vole, there was a vampire involved. A destroyed one thank goodness. A mage with a fire elemental had killed it, and the mage in turn was ambushed by a horde of goblins. I think Will kept the vampire’s diary, if you wanted to consult it when we get home.”

  “Alright. What do you remember?”

  The feline tucked an arm around my lower back and moved the stroking paw up to pet my chest through my summer robes. “I know that once a day they
can turn into a mist when they’re hurt or cornered. It doesn’t last long but it can help them escape. I know if they drain your blood with their fangs, they can turn you. They’re strong and fast. Some of them are spellcasters.”

  I nodded. “Okay, thank you dear.”

  Ames insisted, “Now you tell me something.”

  I blinked and murmured, “I don’t know anything about vampires.”

  The cat shook their head. “Something about anything. You’ve been in school, you learned stuff and things.”

  I had to smile as the were-cat used the orc phrase that I so loved. I returned the chaste rubbing that I was receiving. It was a way to stay awake and alert on watch without resorting to caffeine or other chemicals that would prevent sleep when our shift was done.

  I kneaded the back of the were-cat’s neck as I asked, “Do you know the story of how Limt was founded?”

  “No.”

  I cleared my throat and launched into the story, keeping my voice low so as to not wake the sleeping minotaurs and humans.

  “Once upon a time, a group of southern human farmers got fed up working for the royal family. They packed their things on their backs and started walking east along the coast. The only mapmaker they could find was a man from United Diben. He spoke proper Common, not the broken form that southern farmers used.”

  The feline nodded, leaning into the neck rubs as my tale unfolded.

  “For weeks the group marched, every day sapping their energy more and more. About halfway down the coast people started to fall over from exhaustion. The expedition leader went over and told the mapmaker, ‘Hey laddie, th’ men can’t go no f’rther, they dun reached their lim’t.’ Confused by the accent, the northern cartographer wrote the word ‘Limt’ on the map. So they had to put the city there.”