Burrows & Behemoths

by Lee Duckett

  Fayne walked up to the desk, the rest of the party in tow, and reached inside Shino’s Bag of Holding, which itself was in her backpack. She pulled out five crystal chalices, liberated from a young white dragon’s hoard. “We’d like to have these identified.”

  “Standard rate is fifty gold if it’s a common item, a hundred if it’s something odd,” he rattled off, not looking at the items.

  “If five things all have the same enchantment, will it be one hundred or five hundred?” she inquired.

  The wizard raised an eyebrow and waved his hand, muttering under his breath. His pupils glowed solid purple as he stared at the cups for several seconds, not having been gifted the enchantment Badger had when he graduated from wizarding college which allowed for instant understanding, if one could make sense of what they saw. The shopkeeper’s brow furrowed as he stared at the magic running throughout the object. “One hundred and fifty. It will be easy enough to tell once I’ve identified the first one.”

  “Then it’s a deal” the elf said, taking out an obsidian looking flute. “This as well please.”

  “Of course,” Mordenstein responded absently, glancing back at the chalices. He shook his head and his pupils returned to normal. “Is there anything else?” he asked, a note of skepticism in his voice.

  “No,” Fayne shook her head, “that’s it.”

  “Then I should have these done in two hours at most.” he told her, eyeing the party, visibly taking note of Aria’s cleric vestments, Rurik’s sheathed swords, Fayne’s bow, and Badger’s studded leather armor. “I can see how a team of cleric, fighter, ranger, and rogue would work, but you lot should look into finding a wizard to help out with this sort of thing, not that I don’t appreciate the business!” he smiled. “The arcane arts, while mysterious, are quite useful!”

  Fayne nodded back, motioning for them to leave, and as soon as they were outside Aria asked her, “Why would he think that we didn’t have a wizard?”

  “It’s because I’m wearing armor.” Badger told her. “Max had me take a feat when he created my character that let me cast while wearing light armor, but he said it’s something that most wizards don’t bother with. Shino said that having me wear armor would make everyone think I was a rogue instead, and that, since it’s always a good idea to take out the people who cast magic first, wearing this would make me less of a target.”

  “Oh. Why don’t they?” she pondered as they started to walk towards Pembrooke’s Adventuring Supply. “But then why did he get Rurik and Fayne’s classes wrong?”

  “That’s because we be usin’ variant classes lassie,” Rurik explained. “The samurai class is like the fighter class, but with some paladin-y parts. He prolly thought the tree ‘ugger was a ranger on account of her bow, seein’ as that be what rangers tend ta use. Her class be based on the rogue, but ya wouldn’t know that lookin’ at her.”

  Aria walked a bit further before freezing, “Wait, you said that that people go after magic users. I use magic!”

  Rurik snorted, “Lassie, while that be true, you clerics are a hardier lot then the finger-wagglers.” He jerked a thumb towards Badger, “You be wearing chain, while most wizards got little more than fancy pajamas between them and a jab o’ cold steel.”

  Mollified, Aria followed the rest of the group as they purchased a horse and cart, along with two months’ worth of rations for themselves and the horse, to be picked up the next day. Almost three hundred gold lighter they went back to the Laughing Lich to get dinner and make an arrangement for rooms. After a mediocre meatloaf they returned to Mordenstein’s shop to pick up their items.

  When they walked in, Mordenstein called them over to his desk, obviously waiting for them. “So the flute was definitely odd, but not that difficult to identify,” he said, indicating the item on the desk with a letter propped on top of it. “The instructions are in the letter, please leave the payment on my desk. Just keep control over it, the fines can get pretty high.”

  Fayne counted out one hundred gold pieces onto the counter before pocketing the flute and note as the shopkeeper kept on talking, ignoring the rest of the group’s inquisitive looks. “The chalices however are something that I’ve never seen before. They seem to be used in a short ritual that functions as a modified telepathic bond spell! I’d like to buy one of them for five thousand, and I’ll waive the identification fee as well!”

  Aria grimaced. “I’m sorry but we can’t right now. We promised a friend that we wouldn’t sell any of our magic items until later!”

  Mordenstein’s expression drooped. “Really? That’s too bad. How about this: you leave one with me to study overnight, and I’ll only charge you fifty for the identification. Deal?”

  Aria looked around at the party, who were generally indifferent on the matter. “Deal,” she said, picking up four of them and handing them to Fayne to put away. “We’ll see you in the morning!”

  ◆◆◆

  That night everyone went to their separate rooms, barring Aria and Badger, and it was a generally peaceful night, except for one minor occurrence. Fayne, having gotten her full four hours of rest, was wide awake and reading her book on dragons that she ‘liberated’ from a sealed room in the druid’s den. The scout froze as the sound of someone outside her door pricked her elven ears. She put the book down and crept to her door, bow in hand, slowly unlocking the door and opening it crack. Listening hard, she heard two men whispering to each other over the soft sounds of the dying fire from the inn’s main dining hall.

  “But are you sure this is the right room?” the first voice asked.

  “Yeah,” the other responded gruffly. “Lars said that he got this room. Finish up with the door so we can get that map.

  “Do you know what the map is for?”

  She could practically hear the shrug in the second person’s voice, “It’s enough for some newbie adventurers to ask for some time off from their guild, so it’s gotta be good.”

  The sound of lockpicks stopped. “Wait, we’re gonna rob guild adventurers!? You didn’t say anything about them being with any guild!”

  “Oh stop whining Pete, they just got in! They haven’t even gotten to their guildhouse yet so it doesn’t even count! We’ll be in and out in a few minutes if you just pick the damn lock!”

  While the two of them argued Fayne slipped out and took a firing position, arrow nocked and pointed right of the head of the standing thief. As the second, Pete turned back to picking the lock from his kneeling position, the first looked down the hall and saw the elf archer, ready to strike.

  “Um, Pete?” the second one said, tapping Pete’s shoulder as he picked the lock.

  “I’m working on it Hank!” Pete hissed. “Get off my back!”

  “Stop working Pete!” Hank told him as Fayne drew back on the bow, soft flashes of white-blue light flickering in the dark hallway as lightning played down the length of her arrow.

  Pete looked up, then put his hands up as he stood up quickly. “Oh. This isn’t our room? That explains why my key didn’t work,” he lied, badly.

  Fayne was unamused. “Leave. Now.”

  Hank took off as fast as his feet could carry him, Pete following on his heels as he grabbed his lockpick and nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste. Fayne snorted, quivering the arrow, and going back into her room, picking up where she left off.

  In the morning the group ate breakfast, the shadier clientele gave the party a wide berth, several of them looking at Fayne, then quickly looking away.

  Aria noticed their looks and turned her gaze towards Fayne, “Did something happen last night?”

  “Nothing much,” Fayne commented idly between bites of pancake. “Some thieves tried to break into Rurik’s room. I convinced them that that was a bad idea.”

  “Wha’?” the dwarf asked with a mouthful of sausage. He chewed hastily and swallowed, washing it down with a healthy swig from his morning ale. “What do ya mean someone tried to break inta me room? What did I do to them?”


  “Nothing much,” Fayne said dryly. “Just mentioned that you had a map to some lost location worth taking time away from our guild to go loot.”

  “Oh. Right,” the samurai muttered abashedly. “Sorry ‘bout that. I wasn’t thinkin’. I, well, Rurik, never had to worry about people overhearin’ our plans like that before.”

  “Just try to think about that in the future,” Badger told him. “And don’t speak in the third person in public, it makes you look odd.” He paused, giving the dwarf an appraising look, “Odder.”

  “Are they here?” asked Aria, looking around, violence in her eyes.

  “No,” the elf remarked with a smirk. “They know better.”

  Chapter Four

  Speak Friend, And Get Shot

  The group visited Mordenstein and collected their chalice before picking up their horse, cart, and supplies. After securing their purchases, they left, heading out of Cromer and north towards the Kellridge mountain range. They rode, Badger driving, Aria sitting shotgun, and Rurik and Fayne in the back.

  Rurik watched the landscape slide by for almost an hour, sitting next to the archer as she read her dragon book. “Fayne?” he finally asked. “Ya got anything in that bag o’ yours that’ll ‘elp pass the time?”

  She rummaged around in her bag before tossing a black leather-bound book to the dwarf. “Shino took this from the wrecked library. It’s a primer on the planes of existence.”

  “Ya don’t have anything ‘bout history in there?” he asked hopefully.

  “No, Sorry.”

  He shrugged and opened the book. “Better than nothin’.”

  “Do you have any mysteries in there?” inquired Aria.

  Fayne looked through the bag before handing her a small novel, “Maybe this one? I don’t know.”

  Aria read the cover. “The Mithral Falcon? Really?” She shook her head, “I’ll take it.”

  They continued on the main road for the rest of the day, passing by merchants, tradesmen, and what must have been an adventuring party coming the other way, given their mismatched grouping of two elves, two humans, and a shifty looking halfling. Badger couldn’t help but snort at the wizard wearing a pointed hat with stars on it.

  Camping for the night, they compared the map to Dardenhaven with a more contemporary map Aria had picked up from the adventuring supply shop. Fayne, knowing how to travel in the forest from her character’s backstory, suggested that the next day they take the minor road up towards Corthatch before heading off into the wilderness towards the mountain that housed the dwarven colony, cutting several days off the trip. As the group ate dinner Badger asked Fayne about the chalices.

  “Oh, those! I kinda forgot.” She dug around in the Bag of Holding and retrieved the crystal cups, along with the letter that the shop owner had written. “The note says that we fill them all with liquid from the same container, clink them together, and drink. It should let us communicate telepathically for twelve hours.”

  “Oi!” objected Rurik. “I don’t want ya lot reading me mind!”

  “Telepathy spells don’t normally work that way,” Badger told him. “You should have to make an effort to have everyone hear you. Probably. Maybe. I’m not entirely sure.”

  “That’s sooo reassurin’ wee-man!” the dwarf grumbled. “But it may be useful. Ugh, Let’s get this over with.”

  The party filled four of the chalices with water from the barrel in the cart, clinked, and drained them.

  ~Testing. One, two, three. Testing,~ rang Badger’s voice in everyone’s heads.

  Aria’s voice responded, ~This is weird! Why would we want to use this?~

  ~Remember when you stepped off the cliff without telling anyone you had a Ring of Feather Falling?~ Fayne asked.

  ~Yes,~ answered the cleric.

  ~And how he yelled down at you to warn him not to do that again,~ the elf continued

  ~Yes?~ she repeated.

  ~And woke up Dire Rats who then attacked the party?~ Fayne queried pointedly.

  ~Oh,~ Aria stated. ~Right, this would be more useful when sneaking.~

  The group finished setting up camp and was relaxing when they all heard, ~Oooooooh! I be the ghost of the forest! Oooooooh! You ‘ave awakened me from me sluuuumberrrr!~

  “Cut it out Rurik,” Fayne called, not looking up from her book.

  ~Whoooo is this Ruuuuriiiik?~ the voice responded. ~‘e must be a warriooor of great renooooown!~

  “The ghost has your accent Rurik,” the elf remarked.

  “Wait!” Badger exclaimed, getting to his feet and grinning. “If it has his accent then it must be possessing him. Quick, Fayne! You need to shoot him to drive the ghost out!”

  “That doesn’t work-” Aria told them confusedly, before visibly catching on. “like that always but it might!”

  ~Oooooh!~ the voice said. ~Yoooou be obviously pooowerful warriors. Especially the swooooole dwaaaaaarf! I grant ye leave to travel my woooooooods!~ the voice told them as it faded off.

  “Hmph” Fayne grunted, turning the page. “Thought so.”

  The next day they took that road, which was considerably rougher than their previous thoroughfare, and continued on. Two days (and several complaints) later they left the road to head off into the wilderness. That night they camped in a natural clearing, the sounds of wilderness all around them.

  “I. Hate. Camping!” Aria fumed as she tried to clear a spot for her bedroll. “In my opinion, camping is when they don’t leave those little chocolates on your bed when they clean your room! Do they even have chocolate here?” she demanded.

  “They do,” Badger told her as he scratched away in his spellbook. “But it’s fairly expensive.”

  “How expensive?” she asked.

  “About ten gold a pound.”

  “That’s not that much,” she dismissed. “I have over two thousand!”

  “Not that much!” Rurik called over, appalled. “Are ya touched in the ‘ead lassie? A hearty meal costs five silver! Ten gold buys a good war axe!”

  “Shino said that prices were different around here. One gold is worth about ten dollars, which means that’s a hundred dollars per pound,” Badger explained.

  “Oh, that is a lot,” Aria relented, sitting down in a humph. “But I’m still getting some when we get back to town!”

  The next morning, after an uneventful night, they took off into the forest without any trail to follow, slowed by the rough terrain. Fayne, her character having experience navigating forests, had taken over driving duties.

  “Ugh,” Aria said, after several hours of slow progress. “Why does there have to be so many trees?”

  “Um, because we’re in a forest?” Fayne asked from her position driving the cart. “What’s wrong with trees?”

  The cleric waved all around them, “But they’re in our way!”

  “Yeah,” the elf remarked, ignoring Rurik’s muffled laughter beside her. “Trees are inconsiderate like that.”

  Aria was quiet for another hour before yelling, “How do we even know we’re going the right way!? Is there some sort of magical GPS we could use?”

  Badger looked up from his spellbook, “Sorry, I don’t know of one. Not sure how’d that would even work. Would you need a satellite? How would you even do that?”

  Aria harrumphed and turned back to her newest book, The Day of The Werejackal.

  After they stopped for lunch however, she continued her rant as if no time had passed. “When we were on road trips at least we could go to rest stops and pick up fast food! We’re out in the middle of nowhere eating crackers, nuts, and jerky!”

  “Oi,” Rurik objected. “I be likin’ jerky!”

  “But for every meal?” she shot back. “What am I saying, you’re a man, of course you would. I, however, would like a little variety now and again!”

  “What, would ya like to stop and eat at McDwarfnalds?” Rurik asked.

  “Could we?” she asked hopefully.

  “No.”

  “Why n
ot?” she complained

  “Because it doesn’t bloody exist!” the dwarf yelled.

  Badger commented blandly, “I can flavor things with Prestidigitation.”

  Aria turned on her husband, infuriated, “Why didn’t you say you could do that?”

  He shrugged, “You didn’t ask, and I don’t mind the taste of rations. It’s just fuel.”

  Aria dug through her pack and held out several packets of rations. “Flavor. Now.”

  Badger eyed the bundles, “It only lasts for an hour.”

  Aria held up one, and Badger waved his hand, a shimmer of light settling into the cloth-wrapped package. “Do you have a temperature preference?”

  “You can do that too1?” she demanded, outraged.

  “I can do color as well,” he offered guilelessly.

  Aria threw up her free hand. “Ugh!” She turned back to him, holding her ration out again. “Warm. . . and pink.”

  “Pink?” Fayne asked, crinkling her nose.

  “What’s wrong with pink?” the Aasimar shot back.

  “Nothing, just, pink?”

  Aria was about to respond before looking sharply down at her hand. “Wow, it’s warm!”

  “Anyone else?” the gnome asked.

  “Burgers for me,” Rurik said, handing over his meal.

  “Macaroni and cheese for me!” Fayne called, getting in on it if he was offering. “But the stuff from the supermarket! With extra butter!”

  ◆◆◆

  The party continued on for the rest of the day, the mountains looming ever closer before them. That night the party made camp a few hundred yards before the treeline, choosing to wait and try to climb the mountain in the morning. The rest of the group spent the twilight reading as Badger took out an extra shirt from his pack and cut it up into squares, trying to paint runes on the pieces of cloth. All was quiet for a while, before the gnome gave a yelp as the rag he was working on burned up in a flash of violet fire.