D&D 04-City of Fire

by T. H. Lain

  There's more to this, she thought. She turned to Regdar to tell him, but then several things happened at once.

  Crockery smashed against the floor as the innkeeper's wife Lexi looked up and screamed. She'd been moving through the crowd with a jug of small beer, refilling cups as needed when, with a crash of glass and fire, a lantern smashed through one of the windows on the front wall of the inn. Glass and oil splattered across two villagers and a ball of flame erupted on the hardwood floor. A flaming arrow shot through the open door of the inn, narrowly missing a tall man in a fur tunic. It struck the far wall above the bar and kept burning.

  The villagers cried out in fear, shock, and in a few cases, pain. Everyone started moving at once. A few jumped behind the bar, others tried to scramble away from the fire, some even bolted toward the door.

  "Stay inside!" Regdar shouted to those few.

  He started jumping in that direction, but Early, who had entered the inn only a few moments before, got in his way.

  Two more fiery arrows shot through the door. One hit the far wall and snapped. The other embedded itself in a villager's chest. She had just stepped into the center of the doorway, meaning to dash out into the darkness. Instead, she collapsed backward, a look of shock on her face. The flame on the arrow shaft sputtered and died, drowned in blood oozing up from the wound.

  "Get down!" Regdar shouted.

  He turned to Eoghan. The innkeeper's look of anguish and confusion showed he might have some experience settling disputes and leading his neighbors, but none in battle.

  "Get down!" Regdar repeated. "Flip up that table and get behind it!"

  Eoghan obeyed and Alhandra helped him push over the table into a barricade. Other villagers did the same with other tables. Ian leaped to the side of the smashed window, slamming the inside shutters closed. An arrow, this time unlit, smashed through a crack in the wood bare inches from his hand while he fumbled with the bar. Another villager went down with an arrow in his thigh, but he managed to push the inn's door closed with his shoulder.

  "Upstairs!" Naull cried.

  Too many people were packed into one room. If their unknown attackers threw in more oil, someone else would die.

  There was a stampede for the stairs, and a few of the smaller folk were nearly trampled. Early scooped up a halfling man and helped him to the stairs.

  "Who are they? What do they want?" Eoghan panted from behind the upturned table.

  His wife, who had scrambled behind the bar after dropping her tray and collapsing, made her way to his side. Both husband and wife looked pale and shaken.

  Regdar shook his head and took stock of the room. Nearly all the villagers were upstairs, spread through the rooms. He saw Ian crouching by the closed window and swore.

  "The window in our room! Ian, it's open."

  The half-elf nodded and said, "I need to get my weapons, anyway."

  He looked over at Naull and headed toward the stairs.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  Early's shout made Ian stop at the base of the stairs, but Regdar signaled for him to keep going.

  The cry was directed at Krusk, who was moving toward his weapons and armor. The half-orc didn't even pause as Early moved toward him. Alhandra tried to step between them but the big man raised his sword threateningly.

  "He's still a prisoner, isn't he?" Early shouted. The big man looked grim.

  Krusk yanked his chain shirt down over his chest but Early put a hand out when the half-orc reached for his axe. Krusk's right hand balled into a fist.

  "Stop it!" Naull cried out.

  They both looked at her.

  "We don't have time for this," the wizard said. She turned to Regdar and asked, "What do we do, boss?"

  For a moment, Regdar looked flustered, then he shook his head and pointed to the innkeeper.

  "Eoghan," he said, "get every container you can find filled with water. Is the back door locked?"

  Eoghan shook his head in shock, but stood up. He started toward the back, then stopped and turned.

  "I'll get it, dear," Lexi said, almost as if she was talking about a pie in the oven, then she struggled to her feet and hustled toward the back of the inn.

  Eoghan nodded and began handing out jugs and pitchers to the few villagers who still remained on the ground floor.

  "Get some of the water upstairs. Thank Pelor the roof isn't thatched," the innkeeper said. He knew the wood slats would burn quickly if more flaming oil went up there, but they could only do their best. With a puzzled look on his face, he turned toward Naull and asked, "Why've they stopped?"

  It was true. No more arrows thunked against the door or the walls. They still heard howling outside, but that was all.

  "I don't know," she answered.

  After seeing to it that Early moved away to help one of the fallen villagers, she'd helped Krusk get into the rest of his armor.

  "They want me," Krusk said.

  His axe balanced deftly in his big hands and a dark expression clouded his face. He moved toward the door. Nearly everyone stepped out of his way, but Alhandra intercepted him.

  "No, Krusk, you can't."

  "No more running," the half-orc rumbled.

  The paladin started to argue, but a loud baying from outside the inn cut her off. It was loudest just outside the front door, but answering yelps and howls seemed to echo from all around. Then it all stopped, suddenly.

  "Come out, half-orc!" a canine voice howled from in front of the inn. It sounded almost like more baying, but the words were clear. "Come out and give us what we want! Come out, or we'll burn you out, you and your new friends!"

  Barking laughter rose again, and through the slits of the shutters and cracks of the door they could see many small fires in the courtyard. Torches, lanterns, all moving, all dancing just beyond the wooden walls of the inn.

  Flight

  "Send him out!" the howling voice continued. "We only want the half-orc! We don't need to roast all of you in your little wood oven!"

  Barking laughter followed.

  "I don't think he means it," Naull said grimly.

  "What?" Eoghan asked anxiously. "Whatever that is, it'll burn my whole place down!"

  Regdar turned to the near-frantic innkeeper and said, "That's not what she meant. Whatever that is, it'll burn this place down whether we send Krusk out or not."

  The half-orc paused in his tracks. He was halfway to the door, but Regdar's words stopped him.

  "Yes," the barbarian growled, almost to himself. "They burned Kalpesh ... they'll burn here as well."

  "Then what can we do?" the innkeeper almost wailed.

  The look on the fighter's face told Naull he was wrestling with that question already. Regdar shook his head and moved to the door, peering carefully through one of the cracks. Something thudded into the wood and he leaped back.

  "I can't see them; it's too dark. I don't know who they are."

  "They're gnolls."

  The assemblage turned and looked at the stairs. It was Ian. Soot stained his bandaged arm. Their attackers had fired flaming arrows into the top floor, too, but the half-elf and the villagers extinguished the small blazes.

  "I saw them through your window, before we shut it. There's at least a dozen of them, maybe more. They all have bows and torches. They've dragged a couple of hay bales from the stable out into the courtyard and set them aflame."

  Regdar cursed.

  "At least they haven't set the inn on fire, yet," Naull observed hopefully.

  A few of the others nodded, but Regdar frowned.

  "Why not?" he asked. "I mean, with us yelling and arguing in here, they could've soaked the walls with oil and put a torch to us all. Instead they launch a few fire arrows and this—" he pointed to the scorch mark and the smashed lantern. "What did they do upstairs?"

  "A couple of arrows. One caught on your bedding," Ian shrugged. He understood where Regdar was headed. "We put it out with the water from the basin. No problem."


  "So, they don't actually want to burn us out. They want Krusk," he nodded at the half-orc. "But they want something else. Otherwise, they'd just fire the inn and catch him when we ran for it. Whatever they want, it's something they can't get if they burn the inn to the ground."

  Alhandra looked deliberately at Krusk, who returned her gaze and shook his head. Naull caught the interplay, as did Regdar. Ian actually stepped toward the half-orc, but he put up his hand up when Krusk growled and raised his axe.

  "Krusk, no," Alhandra said. "You have to tell them. No one here wants to hurt you, but they have to know."

  For a moment the half-orc looked defiant, but then his face collapsed into sorrow, then acceptance. It amazed Naull to see how expressive he was. When he looked defiant or angry, he looked most like the orcs they'd fought and killed, but now he just looked like a sad, ugly man.

  Reaching into his chain shirt with one thick hand, he drew out an oilskin packet. Naull nearly smacked her forehead as she recognized the flame symbol on the outside. She had meant to ask Krusk about it when things settled down, but they never did.

  Whatever it was, the half-orc valued it highly. When Ian leaned in to get a closer look, the half-orc started to move the packet away protectively, but at a word from Alhandra he stopped and held it up.

  Without the flame emblem it would have looked almost exactly like the packet in which Naull kept her important papers, such as their contract with the village. It was a little bulkier, as if a few more things were stuffed into it, but otherwise the same size and shape.

  "What's in it?" she asked.

  Alhandra started to answer, but Krusk shook his head brusquely.

  "It's what Kalpesh... and my friend," he said haltingly, "died for. They can't have it. No one can have it. I must protect it."

  "Why? If they were willin' to burn down a whole city," Eoghan suddenly cried, "they'll sure as the Nine Hells burn us alive for it!" Lexi, back from securing the rear door, tried to restrain her husband. He shook her off and continued, "What's so important? Why can't we jus' give it to 'em, so they'll go away?"

  Krusk's jaw jutted out as he turned to face the big innkeeper, but he didn't answer immediately. He looked at Alhandra, but she made no move. Naull watched as the half-orc's jaw worked and she felt she saw him come to a decision.

  They locked gazes for a moment. Krusk's bulging eyes blinked, and he nodded.

  "The City of Fire," he said in a low, rough tone. "The key."

  Only those standing immediately around Krusk—Alhandra, Naull, Ian, Regdar, and Eoghan—heard what the half-orc said. The rest of the inn's occupants, only a few feet away, heard the howling of the gnolls outside and their own frightened voices.

  Even Early didn't hear Krusk continue in a low voice, "The captain gave this to me to protect. He wanted me to find help and go to the City of Fire before..."

  Krusk's voice rasped to a halt, and he looked at their faces again. Trust came hard to the rough outcast, Naull could see. Here he was trying to make a leap of faith with people who, only hours earlier, had nearly lynched him. Naull couldn't imagine what he was experiencing, but she found herself respecting him, and Alhandra as well. Clearly the paladin had connected with the half-orc on some level during their time in the cellar.

  "Before she gets it," Krusk finished.

  "She?" Regdar asked. "Who is she?"

  "A blackguard," Alhandra answered. "He told me. A blackguard of Hextor seeks the key. The gnolls are her creatures."

  Eoghan blanched and turned away. It was too much information for the innkeeper to handle. Ian let out a light whistle, but Regdar frowned.

  "The City of Fire?" he asked. "I've never heard of it."

  Naull reached out and stroked the packet and the flaming symbol. There was something there, she thought, in the back of her mind. Then it clicked. Ancient texts from her apprentice studies came back in a rush and she remembered.

  "The City of Fire... I know about this. Krusk, did your friend the captain tell you any other names? Did you hear him say, 'Secrustia Nar,' or did he call it 'the Flamestar of the Desert'?"

  The half-orc's eyes widened, and he nodded.

  "Se-Secrustia Nar," he pronounced haltingly. "City of Fire's ancient name."

  Naull looked around the small group in surprise at the half-orc's pronouncement.

  "Don't tell me you've never heard of Secrustia Nar?" The name had Draconic origins, and the stories and legends flooded back. "Don't any of you ever read?"

  Alhandra appeared concerned, Ian annoyed, and Regdar amused. Naull looked back at Krusk last and she sobered at his expression.

  No, I don't suppose you do, she thought.

  Amusement waned quickly for Regdar, however. "Okay, Naull—you're smarter than all of us," he said. "How about letting us in on the joke before the gnolls get impatient."

  The gnoll commander, if that's what it was, was shouting again for Krusk to be sent out. More threats and flaming arrows would not be far behind.

  "Oh, it's no joke," Naull replied. "It's a legend, and one I don't have time to go into. Do you know the story, Krusk?"

  The half-orc gave something of a nodding shrug.

  "I only know enough to understand why Krusk doesn't want to give up that packet," Naull continued, "and why we shouldn't, either. Regdar, the City of Fire is ancient. I've heard the earliest settlements around Kalpesh were just traders' way-stations when Secrustia Nar disappeared. It is, or was, one of the oldest cities in this part of the world. It makes sense, I guess, that the key would come to Kalpesh, though," she mused, but then she shook her head. This was no time for history lessons.

  "The City of Fire was supposedly a link to another plane. You've heard me talk about other planes, right?"

  "Sure," Regdar said. "The Outlands, the Big Ring—"

  "The Great Ring," she corrected.

  "Right. The elemental planes—"

  "Yes!" Naull exclaimed. "The City of Fire, according to everything I've read about it, had a link to the Elemental Plane of Fire. A permanent one, not something like the temporary ones powerful wizards or clerics sometimes set up."

  Alhandra looked grim, but Regdar still needed further explanation.

  "According to legend," Naull continued, "Secrustia Nar stood between the Elemental Plane of Fire and our plane. Some people call these sorts of places 'pocket dimensions,' but it doesn't matter. What does matter is that the people who lived there were able to command and control incredible elemental forces. They had servants and even armies of fiery beings, and they supposedly dominated this whole part of the world. There are even legends that say Secrustia Nar is why we have a great desert here instead of fertile lands." Her voice grew ominous. "When the City of Fire's rulers couldn't control their servants anymore, the Elemental Plane of Fire swallowed it up, burning the lands around it."

  Regdar whistled. "And this key?"

  Naull nodded to Krusk, who was listening intently to her story. He added nothing, but she thought she saw him nod once or twice.

  "Supposedly," she said, catching Krusk's glance and holding it, "a few of Secrustia Nar's people escaped the disaster. They made a map that told the way back to where the city's primary planar gate once stood, and they kept a key to safely open that gate. Most of the stories say wise clerics of Pelor and Heironeous destroyed the map and hid the key, but I guess that's not the case, is it, Krusk?"

  Shaking his head, the half-orc slowly opened the packet. He fumbled inside for a moment, then drew out a strange-looking golden disk. It was shaped like a ball of fire, but flat. As he held it in his gray palm, it glowed slightly, and the carved flames on its outer edge flickered in different colors, from gold to red, then orange and other colors of fire.

  "My captain made me memorize the directions to the city. I can find it. I can open the gate with this key, and I can close it forever," he said, finally. The half-orc closed his fist over the flaming disk and looked at each person in the group in turn. "I will do this. I have sworn it."
<
br />   "I think that's a pretty good idea," Naull agreed.

  "No," Regdar disagreed. "Why not just destroy it? Burn the papers and smash the key?"

  Naull shook her head. "All the legends—all the stories that talk about destroying the key—say that it isn't easy. Some say the key has been destroyed, several times, but it keeps reforming. Like fire that you put out in one place, only to have it rekindle in another."

  "I must close the gate," Krusk said simply.

  Something struck the inn's door. This time it was not an arrow, but something heavy. They heard running footsteps retreating down the stairs and away into the courtyard.

  "Open your doors!" the gnoll leader howled. "We won't attack, yet! See what is in store for you!"

  At Regdar's direction, Early and Alhandra moved to either side of the door. Regdar took up a position directly in front of the door, holding Alhandra's shield before him. At his nod, they opened the door. Something propped against it fell inside. Regdar looked down and saw a burned and bloody corpse.

  "Take him in! Look at him! It's what we will do to every villager we find unless you send out the half-orc!" bayed the gnolls' leader. "Send him out! Or look upon your own deaths!"

  The pack howled in unison at the threat.

  Regdar glared into the darkness, then used his heavy boot to push the corpse out of the door. For a brief moment the jeers of the gnolls stopped. The corpse turned over and rolled down the porch stairs. The gnolls howled again, this time in anger that their taunts hadn't succeeded.

  "Vernon..." the innkeeper gasped. He'd watched Regdar from behind the door. "The blacksmith... oh, gods! How could you—"

  Eoghan's accusatory tone cut off as Regdar turned toward him, glaring with anger.

  "He's dead," Regdar said flatly. "We can't help him, and his corpse is no use to us. We've got to figure a way out of this. Then you can mourn him," the fighter added a little more softly.

  Eoghan nodded and deflated slightly.