by C A A Allen
*Mofo Fomo’s defensive spells are lifesavers.
*Captain Greensludge vows to take this team deep.
Team: Beeston - Death Over/Under: 4
*Special wager in effect: Total slaughter odds 9-1*
From: Beeston
Members: 6
Map Level: 0/10 (House Map)
Key personnel: Raff Orcslaughter (Fighter)
Chawett Loinchop (Soothsayer)
Chazekiel Manor (Fighter)
Tigress Moet (Fighter)
Mustela Moet (Belette)
Dread Jenkins (Thief)
*Five of this teams six members are amateurs.
*Only versed member is a bottom magic user.
*Mustela has given birth to several top sniffers.
Team: O’Grady - Death Over/Under: 6
From: St. Brigitte (Woodthorpe)
Members: 21
Map Level: 9/10
(Said to contain routing to gold depositories.)
Key personnel: Finnegas O’Grady (Fighter)
Swoggle Whaley (Thief)
Lucky Kavanach (Belette)
Buck Shiels (Fighter)
Leanan Morrigan (Enchanter)
Hooley Stout (Fighter)
*Last run in lost 4/20, the previous 4/20.
*O’Grady vows to venture uncomfortably deep.
*Leanan’s chants mean death to male foes.
Team: Questiarum - Death Over/Under: 8
From: Tickhill
Members: 23
Map Level: 7/10
(Easy access to the gold rich southwest region.)
Key personnel: Tatlen Hall (Fighter)
Skirrid de Bussel (Enchanter)
Sivarat Swardswinger (Fighter)
Jibber Budworth (Belette)
Edward Eerie III (Thief)
Cecilia Cynan (Fighter)
*Last run in lost 7/21, the previous 6/22.
*Team is a mixed bag of veterans, and amateurs.
*The area Hall frequents has been deadly as of late.
Odds subject to change.
LAIS DIJON TAVERN:
FUTURES AND PROPS:
ODDS A TALHOFFER ITEM IS FOUND:
Beeston / 350 to 1
(Don’t belong in the conversation.)
Greensludge / 200 to 1
Questiarum University / 200 to 1
O’Grady / 150 to 1
(More into gold then items.)
Rettingham / 75 to 1
Gabbiano / 25 to 1 (Best map in the game.)
ODDS A SNIFFER WILL BE KILLED:
Lucky Kavanach (O’Grady) / 200 to 1
(Team O’Grady has never lost a sniffer.)
Tica Fitzturgis (Rettingham) / 175 to 1
Monjo Grifter (Gabbiano) / 150 to 1
Jibber Budworth (Questiarum U.) / 50 to 1
(Heavy death toll over last few runs.)
Tawaif Yoshiwara (Greensludge) / 35 to 1
Mustela Moet (Beeston) / 15 to 1
(Should leave questing to the offspring.)
ODDS A CAPTAIN WILL BE KILLED:
Gabbiano / 350 to 1
Sandby (Rettingham) / 175 to 1
(Five magic users of protection.)
O’Grady / 175 to 1
Hall (Questiarum University) / 85 to 1
Greensludge / 45 to 1
(Recklessness often equals deadness.)
Orcslaughter (Beeston) / 3 to 1
(Dead man/team running.)
Odds subject to change.
CHAPTER 17
Trosworth was far behind us when we came to a three-way fork in the road. Option one: the Elvin Toll Road. It wound gently into the sunny Light Woods. Option two: the Trollebotten Path. It zigzagged into the dark Thorneywood Forest.
We walked away from both. Our course took us on the third and much less traveled option: The Carling Trail.
Everyone gathered around me as I unrolled the map. “Up the Carling Trail, through the Thorneywood Forest, then along the Trollebotten River to the ruins.”
Chawett looked over the map. “This is good. The Carling trail goes around the back of the troll’s main territory. Our best chance at avoiding any encounters will be to make the ruins well before nightfall.”
Chaz pushed his way through us to the start of the trail. He spread apart some brush with his hands. “Gold is calling and you all are still back there? Come on.”
The dense forest thinned and the sunrays beat through the branches. Our dark trail soon came to an opening where the water interrupted the forest silence.
“Oh yah!” Dread ran to the river and sat on a smooth rock along its bank. After prying off his boots he stuck both feet in the water. “Ahhhh, there we go. Half way to the ruins and it’s time to let the bunions breathe.”
Chaz, Chawett, and I joined him on the rocks. I splashed some refreshing cold water on my face and filled my flask. Tigress followed a prancing Mustela up along the banks where the forest met the river.
“Where they going?” Dread asked.
“I would say Mustela smells something,” Chawett said. “Look at the trees, there’s something coming through the—”
Smash! A young boy burst through the forest ahead of Tigress. His tangled brown hair streamed behind him in his haste. As he flashed by, I caught a glimpse of his pointed ears. One had a large ring pierced into the tip. A wood elf. He ran at top speed alongside the river. His little legs pumped in a blur and he looked desperately out of breath.
Crashing behind him busted out a towering greenish-brown troll. It high-stepped on the elf’s heels. Mustela jumped on Tigress’s shoulder. Before any of us could gather our wits or belongings, Tigress sprinted after the troll.
Chaz stood and stomped a foot into the ground. “That is not our business Tigress! Stop following them!”
This was the first troll I’d seen and the stories barely did it justice. Dread jammed on his boots and leapt up. “Let’s go team. That little elf is going to need some help.”
“I’m with you,” Chawett said.
The elf cut swiftly back into the forest. The troll continued directly behind him without missing a step. The monster swept his lanky arms wildly from left to right, cutting down all forestry in its path.
When the three of us caught up we found Tigress deep in the forest dug in behind some thick brush. Her bow was drawn tight and pointed through some branches. We took up position next to her and peered through the shrubbery. The elf was on his back lodged under the troll’s foot. I could barely see his head sticking up between two of the beast’s ghastly sharp talons.
Tigress viewed the scene with an unrelenting stare. “The troll caught the elf and dragged him to this clearing. I’m going to put this arrow through its neck. Be ready, when I have a clear shot it’s on.”
Chaz strolled up, crunching leaves and twigs underfoot, barely lessening his pace. “What is wrong with you fools? This is not our fight. You’re wasting time on this stupid elf.” He pulled my shoulder back. “There’s nothing to gain here Raff.”
I shook off Chaz’s hand. “Consider this a warm-up for the Maze. Now get your weapon ready.”
Chawett nodded, “Let’s do it then.” He rubbed his hands together in a circular motion creating a small red-hot ball the size of a hummingbird egg. “As soon as Tigress lets the arrow go, we attack.”
Chaz crossed his arms over his chest. “I will guard the rear.” Could he sound any more bored?
The young elf seemed to detect Chawett’s magic. He turned his head our direction as he squirmed and fought to get away.
The troll cocked its head back and let out a booming “Hawwwwch!” It then began to twitch in an effort to regurgitate the deadly stomach acid that would soon be vomited onto the elf’s cranium.
“No,” Tigress snarled.
She let her arrow launch at maximum velocity. It whizzed toward the troll’s neck but curved up to buzz its head and lodge into the tree behind it. Fortunately for the elf, Dread and I were already in quick pursuit. I slash
ed my sword across the troll’s leg, a putrid pea green juice sprayed as the troll wailed. The elf scampered away from the fight gasping for breath.
The now one-legged Troll stumbled backward but dealt a heavy backhand to Dread, who was just able to block it with his shield. Chawett rolled his Lava Sphere at our combatant hitting its torso with a burst of flame. The troll let out a booming yowl that was stifled when Tigress scissored her trident daggers across the hobbled beast’s neck, beheading it. The troll smashed back against the trees, hacked up and sizzling from the fire.
“Yah that!” I said. “We made quick work of this nasty heifer.”
Chawett patted me on the back. “Consider us all warmed up for the Maze.”
Dread moaned. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll be fine over here.”
Chawett and I ran over to the thicket of bushes Dread had been launched into.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
Dread picked himself up and kneeled in front of a small wooden lockbox. He spat dirt, and pulled twisted branches from his hair. “I’m more than all right. I landed on a treasure chest. That stupid son of a bitch backhanded me right into it.”
Mustela sniffed around the box while Tigress went to console the elf.
I tried to fight back my smile. “You know what Dread? That troll slapped the snot out of you player.”
“Quiet Raff.” Dread said. “I need to concentrate on this lock.” Mustela chirped three times, then jumped on Dread’s shoulder. “Thank you girl, I got the perfect tool for that.” He pulled a long curved slide key from his pouch. “The poison needles in this chest will hail in all directions if I don’t do this right. First lift, then rotate.”
Chaz prodded the burnt up troll’s belt with his sword. A large knobbed club and small pouch hung from it. “Anything in that pouch Chaz?” I called out. He pulled something out of it but kept it in the palm of his hand. “What’s that—”
“I got it open, Raff!” Dread said. “And there’s gold in here! Gold!”
I turned to the chest and examined its contents. There were a few dirty gold coins, a couple of empty triangle shaped glass bottles, and a thin wooden stick with a curve at one end.
Dread picked up the stick and looked it over with a scowl. “So eight measly gold coins and this dumb thing.”
Chawett’s mouth dropped wide open. “Mind your thoughts while that’s in your hand Dread. I can’t believe our good fortune. Do you know what you have there? It’s a wish stick!”
“A wish stick.” Dread cocked an eyebrow. “What’s a wish stick?”
“Listen close.” Chawett’s voice quivered. “What you need to do is think real hard about an item you’ve wished for all your life. Quick though, did you think of it yet?”
Dread gripped the stick hard. “Yes. I thought of something. Now what?”
Chawett stood in front of Dread with his hands out to block any possible distractions. “Okay Dread, are you sure you’re ready? Have you thought of something really good?”
Dread stood up straight. “Yes, yes I have. I’m ready. What next?”
“Here we go then,” Chawett said. “What I need you to do, is ‘stick’ that worthless thing in the air and ‘wish’ it had had some magic power. ‘Wish-stick’, Ha! I got you Dread!”
Dread froze in place with the stick held up high.
Chawett snatched the stick from Dread’s deceived hand. “I know exactly what this is used for.” He closed his eyes, tilted his head up, and scratched his butt with the curved end of the stick. “This is one fancy backscratcher.”
“You wrong for that Chawett,” I said. Treasure chests didn’t hold worthless junk. That stick did something. We just needed to figure out what.
Dread grabbed the stick from Chawett and tucked it into his belt. “You got jokes huh? Just the other day my back itched in a place I couldn’t reach, I could have used a stick like this.”
Chawett opened up a small purple velvet bag with gold drawstrings. “Here you go Dread, put the gold in here.”
Dread dropped the coins in the bag. Chawett pulled the drawstrings then tossed the bag in the air.
Dread caught it and held it up. “Nice coin purse.”
“That’s not a coin purse,” Chawett said. “It’s a heavynessless bag, and is capable of holding over five thousand coins without a gain in weight or mass. All of us Cave Maze veterans have one of these to keep our riches.”
“No, no, no!” Chaz pointed his finger in Chawett’s face. “You are a Cave Maze jester, and an idiot for nominating a thief to hold my—I mean our—gold. I am the one financing this run, so I will be the one holding the bounty. Now give it up thief.” Chaz reached for the bag.
Dread yanked it away. “You about to pull back a nub trying to snatch a thief’s booty sack.”
“Calm down gentlemen,” Chawett said. “Cave Maze protocol is that a team’s thief always carries the bounty. With the amount of pickpockets in and around the Maze you would get peeled back of that bag like a banana Chaz. You’re a fighter so you need to concentrate on fighting. A good thief like Dread will never get his pocket picked.”
Dread tied the bag to his belt. “That’s right Chaz. Know your Cave Maze protocol son.” He grabbed his crotch. “You can hold this nut sack though.”
Mustela spun and sprung up onto Tigress’ shoulder. She pointed her nose up and made a frantic screech. An owl the size of a horse swooped down to the clearing with a blast of wind. It let out a high-pitched shriek and rotated its head around the area.
I drew my sword and took cover near a tree. It looked at me with dark orange eyes and clucked rapidly.
“Lower your weapons!” Tigress said. “It’s okay! The owl is with the elf.”
Tigress lifted the young elf onto the owl. He pulled a strap from under its yellowish-brown plumage and dug in his heels. The owl shrieked and flew up in a tunnel of wind.
Chaz ran after the owl and threw a rock at it. “If it was up to me you would have a mouth full of steamy troll vomit elf!” He looked at Tigress and shook his fist. “That’s gratitude for you. Not even a thank you from that unappreciative little misfit.”
He stomped over to me and stood in my face. “We just risked our lives, threw off our schedule, and used up a percentage of Chawett’s precious magic power for what? A few measly gold coins and a butt-scratching stick? That’s just pitiful! Now let’s get back to the run.”
Chawett kicked the troll’s severed head. “We do need to get out of here. This troll will regenerate before long, and he’s sure to be upset. It would be good if we are far, far away from this area when that happens.”
We retraced our steps back toward the river. Once out of the forest the sun was close to setting. Chawett and Chaz took the lead moving along the river at a pace twice the speed as before. Tigress and I kept a slight distance behind them with Dread lagging in the rear.
“Remember,”—Chawett looked back at us, and then into the trees with a concerned eye—“we got to make the ruins before nightfall.”
“So Tigress,” I asked. “What was that little elf talking to you about? Why was he so deep in the forest?”
Tigress stroked Mustela who slept comfortably around her neck. “The poor thing was so shaken, I could barely understand him. I did get that his name was Tomte, and that he was with a band of young elves from the Light Woods. They were trying to complete some sort of overnight elf test to become warriors. Trolls ambushed their camp and they all scattered. Apparently Tomte was being chased for quite some distance when he popped out at the river.”
“Well he sure was lucky,” I said. “Lucky he ran into us.”
It was well after sunset when we set up camp at the Carling Ruins. The foundations of only a few buildings and a long fallen column were all that remained.
Tigress and I gathered wood and dry grass to make fire. I heard some prowling in the trees, and spotted what looked like yellow eyes blinking in the distant bush. “The undead would feel right at home in this place.”<
br />
Chaz struck a chunk of flint to a piece of wood embedded with steel. He struck it several times only producing a few faint sparks. “Damn little elf.”
“No need to work that flint so hard Chaz,” Chawett said. “You got a magic user here, I’ve been flicking finger fire since I was two.” Chawett prepared to flick his thumb.
Chaz backed him off. “No Chawett! You have already wasted enough of your magic power on that pissy ass elf incident. I’ll light the fire my way, you need to save everything you got to deal with the killers in that Maze. I mean look at you, what good are you with no magic?”
Chawett unstrapped a shiny black stick from his belt and held it forward.
“Uh-huh,” Chaz adjusted the piece of wood. “You have a walking stick for defense.”
“A shillelagh,” Chawett pounded the knobbed end in his hand. “This end is loaded with molten lead. I can administer quite a beating with this if I must.”
Chaz struck the flint again and the fire came to life. Finally, I thought. We all passed out by the long overdue flames.
As I slept a quiet voice whispered in my ear. “Don’t open your eyes, no matter what you do.”
CHAPTER 18
I tried to lift my arms but I was too weak. Short of breath, my chest felt like it was on fire. I knew that voice.
“There’s a cockatrice perched on your chest,” said the voice. “It’s staring you down, so don’t open your eyes. You’ll be turned to stone immediately if you do.” A soft, wet tongue licked in my ear.
“Is that you Porridge?” I kept my eyes squeezed tight.
“Yes it is baby, I’ve been with you all this time. Nice moves on that troll back in the forest.”
“I can’t move.”
“Shhhh, the cockatrice has paralyzed you with its poison breath. It also has a spur lined up at your neck, so stay calm. Mustela has been alerted, and will thrash this vulture for trying to mess with my man.”
Skrawwww! A pounding collision lifted the pressure from my chest. I opened my eyes but still could not move a muscle.
Mustela locked up with the goose-sized cockatrice and rolled across the ground. Her eyes flared fiery red as she hissed, barked, and clawed the cock at every opening. Our belette’s lightning-fast quickness blocked the cock’s claw and bite attack, but was unable to deal with its scaly snake tail. Several whips slashed her body and face including a blood-splattering one across her nose.
