Tales of Fantasy, Fables, and Fiction

by Thomas H. Tribble

  "So, join my quest for vengeance, gold, or even for glory's sake but do so also in the fight for hope. Much good may come from violence if it is properly channeled and if its wielders use it dispassionately. We cannot afford errors in judgment if we are to fight a demi-god in its own lair."

  "That much, at least, we can agree on." replied Durrock, "Well spoken, sir"

  The group then began to discuss the actual tactics that they would use for the attack. Strom told them, "If we just walk right into the lair's front entrance, we will surely die post haste. That mountain hall must hold one hundred clerics and lesser servants to Tantalous. After dealing with them, and only then, will we be able to deal with the god... if it doesn't teleport or plane shift in the mean time."

  Beneth shook his head and replied, "From what we have learned about it, I do not think this so called demi-god can do either of those things. It was actually a powerful demon in a lesser plane and only recently decided to try its hand at deity-ship. Also, where would it go? Already it has made many enemies on this and other planes. Surely, it would stay and fend us off."

  Ornam interjected, "Then you must be ready to defend against more than just men and Tantalous. No doubt there will be traps and other devices to aid them."

  "Yes, that is a very true," agreed Bourne. "There is also the matter of the god's personal bodyguard. He is a man that goes by the name of Venpuezo. I can only assume that he is from the Far East, judging by his name. Our Sage tells me that he is proficient and, more importantly to me, armed with a sword of Nine-Lives Stealing." At the mention of that weapon, all were taken aback.

  Tassif shook this head and said, "A dangerous weapon that I have learned many sad songs about. It has the power to destroy an adversary's soul; nine adversaries, actually. Were any of us to have its blade penetrate our vitals and remain there overly long, the blade's primary function could leave its victim irreversibly dead. No spell in creation could return life to the deceased."

  Bourne said in a disapproving voice, "Yes, but other than that power, the blade is most likely inferior to my own. Besides, we are all experienced in combat. I am sure any of us could well have a chance to resist the blade's soul destroying conjurations. At any rate, I believe that I will deal with this Venpuezo myself. I cannot ask any of you to risk eternal non-existence. And, I think I can dispatch him with little trouble."

  "No, killing him should not be a problem for us," said Strom looking hard into Bourne's eyes. "The two of us can certainly deal with almost any warrior.... together. You may be skilled at arms, but my rogue attacks are what win us many battles. Taking him on alone is rather egotistical, even for you toe-to-toe fighter types."

  Bourne leaned forward and put his hand on Strom's shoulder and replied, "It is not ego, my friend. I do not fear your death or my own for we fight on the side of justice. I am afraid of unending oblivion from which there can be no rescue. I could not lead men to that end. But, you are right. The two of us can deal with him I am sure." Bourne smiled faintly but Strom looked at him wearily.

  "Now, master Dwarf, tell us about this underground stronghold," interjected Beneth poring over a map of mountains. Durrock proceeded to tell the group about the particular mountain that the Spider-god had taken up residence. The range of hills was to the north-east of Norec some four days hard ride after a full day of travel on a river ferry. There were some smaller towns ringing the area which, no doubt, would be under a great deal of influence by Tantalous. Since secrecy is always an issue when planning an assault against the living, the group decided that it would be best to equip as well as possible in Norec or in one of the smaller towns to the immediate north.

  Durrock continued, "We are rather in luck with this site. You see, the mountain that these tunnels are in is really two mountains in one. There is a curtain of granite that separates the east and west sides of the range. Granite, as you may know, is so difficult to mine and dig through that only Dwarves even bother trying. The rest of the range is made up of softer rock. Tantalus's fortress is really just an old, abandoned storage site on the west side of the curtain. It was built a few hundred years ago by men from the far, far East.

  "For us to try to enter the west side and work our way to the back of the tunnels where this upstart deity is most likely residing would be very tedious. There is only one real entrance to the complex and it is sure to be heavily guarded. But, the lore that only a very few seem to know is that mountains are alive in a sense."

  Strom asked, "Alive? In what sense, literally or figuratively?"

  Durrock's voice became softer as he continued, "Some of my people believe literally alive. They believe the very rocks themselves have been imbued with a slow sentience. Personally, though, I believe that they are alive in that they breathe and expand and contract all the time, never resting. How else could anyone live deep underground without suffocating?"

  "So," Bourne said, "these tunnels are riddled with air shafts of some kind?"

  "Exactly. I have been inside those tunnels once, in my youth. I never got to see the east range of hills but I know Dwarves that have. They told me of narrow slits and shafts that ran through the granite from east to west. Some, they said, could be transversed entirely."

  Ornam seemed very pleased with this news but asked, "Would these shafts be known to all, then?"

  "No, sir, they are slight to the eye and subtle. They reach upward from the west side and steeply downward from the east. This is the problem though." Durrock then went on to explain that the shafts that the group could use to discreetly enter the western tunnels were very steep. Repelling down a narrow tunnel is difficult and dangerous, but climbing up such terrain is best left to true experts. "So you see, we can get into the tunnels, but getting out quickly with any surviving Clerics on our trail and with any booty is going to be a virtual impossibility. We will have to march out of the western front gates! We'll have to fight everyone under stone to make our escape."

  Beneth raised his hand to stay the Dwarf and said, "I think that there are much better ways to exit the stronghold. As long as I have a clear mental familiarity with a place, I can teleport to it with little difficulty."

  "Yes, but you can only carry fifty some odd stone of weight with you," Bourne reminded the mage. "You will not be able to take more than two or three fully equipped people with you."

  Beneth replied, "Possibly four smaller people if we leave the heaviest of our equipment behind. Yes, that will be an issue. I cannot commit myself to memorizing more than one or two teleport spells that day, otherwise my most offensive weapons will be limited in number. I suppose I could purchase a scroll with three or four teleport spells imprinted on it, but it will cost."

  "And be dangerous for us. What if, may the gods forbid it, you are killed or seriously injured, what would we do then?" Strom volunteered. "Also, teleporting is an inexact art. There is always the chance that you and your cargo will arrive at an undesirable location. You will need to have five or six of the spells at your ready to combat those odds."

  Bourne sighed and then said, "There is also another issue to be dealt with. The six of us will not be able to deal with all of the clerics and guards in the stronghold and Tentalous as well even if we attack them from behind their main defenses. It is simply a matter of overwhelming odds. We need to either devise a way to seal off the main tunnels from the god or else consider hiring another dozen men to act as fodder; a thing I am most reticent to do."

  Ornam interjected, "Adding together the problems of escape and defending against a mob results in an answer of 'more magicians', my friends. Two more good mages should be sufficient to deal with these problems."

  Bourne added, "But, powerful mages are very expensive and, usually, not given over to risking their lives by being lead around by mundane fighters. That much I have learned." The party continued to discuss these issues until it was rather late. Since no conclusions to their dilemmas were reached, they decided to adjourn for the night and regroup the next evening.

&n
bsp; Leena had been rather silent most of the evening. She preferred to listen to what was being planned and make up her own mind about the endeavor's viability. She had refused to go on several quests because those involved were poor planners and had no desire to listen to a woman's opinion. However, she was satisfied with this group's progress so far. Perhaps she and Tassif could find answers to the party's problems before nightfall tomorrow. She left Bourne and the others quickly to get some rest and get an early start in the morning.

  Ornam decided that Strom and at least one of the others should accompany him to his house (by way of a local tavern. Durrock and Tassif agreed with that idea immediately. Beneth, too, was in compliance but asked after Bourne.

  "I will stay here a while longer, sir Mage," Bourne told Beneth. "I want to look over the maps some more. Maybe an answer will present itself. Do not worry about me. Although I do not trust a single individual on the town guard, collectively they are not in league with the Dark Lord. That much we know. Our rooms are close by and I know how to be very careful. Besides, I seriously doubt anyone could have followed Strom to this location."

  Beneth replied, "Perhaps so, but take care anyway and do not tarry here overlong. I will be back at the inn in an hour or so. You should be, too." After a thoughtful moment he added, "Perhaps I should stay with you, just the same."

  Bourne shook his head and said, "No, you go on. I have the feeling that the Thieves Guilds was trying to intimidate Strom again. He really should just pay them regular dues and be done with it. Also, I need to be alone for a while, old friend. As much as I enjoy everyone's companionship, its consistency can be wearing. I must resolve how we are to take the lair and I cannot do that at a tavern or with you watching over me."

  Beneth shrugged and answered, "I understand but be careful just the same." And, with that, the men went off to find ale and Bourne pored over the scrolls and maps that they had amassed.

  Bourne left the warehouse shortly after the mid of night. He was in good spirits finally; much better than he had been in months. The possibility of his finally getting on with fulfilling his dreams and desires was more hope than he had had for some time. Nevertheless, he walked through the back alleys and dimly lit streets of the town fully aware of his surroundings. He would have loved to have let his guard down for just a moment and enjoy the night air but he knew better. He kept his hand axe drawn and in his right hand. He held it high on its shaft and used his forearm to conceal its handle somewhat. Not wanting to be out in the open more than was necessary, he proceeded almost directly to the inn that he and his group were staying at that night.

  He had turned to take a shortcut down a deserted alley that he knew well. Suddenly and from seemingly out of nowhere, a small figure jumped out behind him and cast a net over his head. Then, a much larger figure appeared from a very narrow side alley and made to strike at him with a large mace. Bourne pivoted out of its way as best as he could but the blow still struck him. Fortunately, his armor absorbed most of the blow's shock. He lunged backward towards the smaller figure to take up the room between them. This would prevent both attackers from striking him for a moment, but not from grappling with him, so he put his full weight onto the smaller assailant and smashed him against the wall as hard as he possibly could. He used that few heartbeats of time he had opened up for himself to cut at the net with his hand axe. Fortunately, due to the mild enchantments that had been placed on it, his axe was very sharp and it cut through a few strands of the webbing. With one great burst of strength, Bourne ripped open the net. He slashed and the smaller figure near him then threw his axe at the larger attacker in front of him. This gave him the moment he needed to draw his sword and prepare for his attack. This fight had just begun.

  Bourne engaged the larger assassin and met mace with sword. He tried to move around his lead foe in order to keep the larger Rogue in the way of the smaller. Fighting two inferior swordsmen at a time is an exercise in not letting either of them free to attack your blind side. In a narrow alley, this was nearly impossible and one's tactics must make the best possible use of that terrain. Also, having worked side-by-side with Rogues for years, Bourne knew something of their tactics. "The smaller of them will make a lunge for my back any second," thought Bourne.

  The largest moon was nearly full that night so at least he could see his two assassins move even though they were in the shadows of the alleyway. Bourne did manage to keep the corner of his eye on the rear of the alley while he fought the larger assassin. He held his sword with a single handed reverse grip and made passes mostly to keep the Rogue at bay. Then, he caught the motion of the smaller fiend as he made a lunge and a back stab. At that moment, Bourne leapt back hard and tucked his blade into his side.

  Maeven would have made a very successful attack on Bourne at that moment if either his short sword had been much longer or his timing had not been thrown off so badly by Bourne's reverse lunge. Maeven had waited for just the right moment to spring forward. But, instead of having his sword bite through armor and rend flesh, he found his opponent's long, sharp blade now fully pierce his body.

  Once he felt his sword go through the Rogue, Bourne used all of his might to rip it out of the assassin and then, with the modest quip, "Like that," he sprang forward again to fully engage the larger fiend. As she moved to have a look at Maeven, the moonlight struck Moornam's face for the first time. Bourne halted for a split second and whispered, "You again! This is the last time for this!" He slashed savagely at Moornam and she made to duck and parry his blow. He was already preparing for another onslaught when a blast of fog knocked him back. He managed to not be blown over but he was startled. With the tonal mumbling of the right words, Moornam had activated an enchantment on a device attached to her armguard. The fog was so thick that Bourne could literally not see his hand in front of his own face.

  Moornam swung her mace at the sound of Bourne's softly clanking armor. He felt the oncoming attack and kept his sword up in front of him to parry. This sort of blind battle went on for only a few seconds. Bourne did not want to just start slashing wildly but blind fighting was not one of his fortes, though it might be one of hers he thought.

  Then, they both heard the whistle of the town guard not far away and men in armor running towards the alley. Without hesitation, Bourne made a dash for the small side alley, found it, and groped his way down it as quickly as he could until he was out of the fog. "Damn... lost my axe," he mumbled to himself but he pressed forward as fast as he could. He decided to head directly for his room and forget about stealth. Obviously, they were aware that he was in Norec.

  Moornam did not try to stop Bourne. Her plan, as simple as it was, had not worked. Usually, when someone gets a net thrown over them in a narrow passage and brained with a mace, they do not have axes at the ready or kill your assistant with one blow. She had been more worried about Bourne actually being alone than anything else; her whole plan had revolved around that idea. Now, Maeven was down and she had to find him in this fog and get out of there before town guards surrounded both ends of the alleyway. She would have loved to have used her charmed amulet to create more fog, unfortunately its power could be invoked but once per day.

  She basically stepped on Maeven while looking for him, hoisted him up over her shoulders, and started running towards the end of the alley away from the sound of guards. She emerged into a main street, ran down another alley, then another, then down a dark back street, and so on until she felt that there was no chance that the town guards could be following her.

  She finally lay Maeven down by a rain barrel in a blind alley that ended in a sort of cul-de-sac. He was still breathing but she could see in the darkness that he had bled all over her and was now very pale. She rustled through her pack and found a potion bottle and uncorking it she said, "Here, drink this. It is one of the healing potions we picked up in Urum." Maeven sat up a little and took the vial from her. He knew that no matter how bad his wounds were, that drinking enough of these potions could save his li
fe.

  He guzzled the amber brew and started to gag and cough. "AH! It burns the throat!" he cried.

  Moornam grabbed the bottle from him and smelled it. "Brandy? What in.... damn, let me see if I have another bottle that we had gotten from somewhere other than Urum." She rustled through her unorderly pack and eventually found an older potion bottle. She uncorked it and smelled it for a moment before trying to give it to Maeven. But, by that time, he was dead. His face was bland and he eyes looked out into nowhere unblinking. No potion she had would help him now.

  Moornam had not realized until that moment just how fond she had been of the little man. He had been unerringly loyal to her, never questioned her right to lead, and had followed her into hell and back. Now, he was dead due to her botched plan. A true Orc would not have felt so strongly for a fallen comrade, but her human blood now caused her to sit down in front of his body and let herself grieve for a moment

  "Ah, there you are, Huntress," a voice cried out to her softly. It was the guild henchman that had held her up for payment the day before (his name always eluded Moornam's mind). "My man here told me he saw someone running away from the town guards, so we gave covered pursuit. I caught a glimpse of you a street or two back and thought to myself, 'That is Moornam, sure as the world.' Hmm, your sidekick is not looking so good just now." He held up the torch he had only just lit to get a better look at Maeven.

  "He is dead," she replied flatly as she just sat on the ground with her head hung low.

  "Well then," he said with a chuckle, "we'll only charge him half!" At this, the three men that had appeared behind him started chuckling as well.