by Robert Bevan
“The hinges are on this side,” said Dusty. “Perhaps the door opens out this way.”
“Oh yeah,” said Cooper. He stood up, leaving the dead elf on the floor. “That’s true.” He grabbed the handle and yanked it. It broke off in his hand, leaving the door freely swinging. Cooper pulled it open, and the already musty air of the corridor mingled with the air escaping this room for what must have been the first time in centuries. It was thick with rot and decay, stinging Tim’s eyes and forcing itself down his throat like the tentacle of a dead octopus. This place would not do for lunch.
When everyone’s coughing, gagging, and (in Cooper’s case) shitting had subsided, Tim thrust his torch into the room, trying to penetrate the thick, putrid air. The light revealed three figures, wrapped from head to toe in ancient, decomposing strips of fabric. They stared at Tim through gaps in their wrappings. The stare was like being stabbed in the soul.
Tim stood paralyzed with fear as the three mummies started shambling toward the door. Tim knew in his heart that this was the place he was going to die. He reflected on all the places he’d never visit, the family he would never have, the apologies he would never make. His friends would die down here too, and it was all his fault. He was a cancer in everyone’s life he ever came in contact with. His death would make the world a brighter place. He dropped his torch, fell to his knees, and began to weep.
The next thing he knew, he was yanked by the back of his shirt and sent crashing into Julian, who was sitting on the floor sobbing. Tim wrapped his arms around Julian and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry, man.”
Julian sniffed and hugged Tim back. “Me too.”
Ravenus was squished in between them, his wings pinned to his sides in their embrace. “What the devil?”
“Would you two fags get up and help us?” shouted Cooper. He had his back pressed up against the door, his thighs straining to keep it closed. Dave sat under him, adding what support he could with his bulk. But the mummies were pounding the crap out of it on the other side, each hit pushing Cooper and Dave forward, widening the gap between door and frame.
“Don’t let them touch you!” said Dusty, standing a cautious distance away. “They’ll curse you with mummy rot!”
As the pounding at the door moved to the forefront of Tim’s mind, his crippling despair began to fade. He became suddenly aware that his mind had been fucked with and that he was hugging Julian. “What the shit?” He let go, and Julian covered his face and broke down into heavier fits of sobbing.
“Julian,” said Tim. “Snap out of it, dude!” He grabbed one of Julian’s long ears. “Wake up, man! Give me some oil!”
“Take it!” Julian cried. “Why don’t you take my heart while you’re at it?”
“What the fuck is going on with those two?” asked Dave.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Ravenus.
Tim took a flask of oil out of Julian’s bag. Those dusty old rag-walkers would soak this shit up like a Bounty paper towel ad. He stood to the right of the door, waiting to time his throw so as to make it through the gap.
Kachung! The pounding on the door echoed through the dark corridor. Tim threw the flask. His aim was true and his timing spot on. It smashed the floor on the other side of the door.
“Hang on guys!” Tim said to Cooper and Dave. “Just give it some time to –”
Kachung! The next time a mummy beat on the door, the gap was considerably more illuminated. It worked. The oil had found its way to his dropped torch.
“Ha ha!” said Tim. “We’ve got them now!”
“We do?” said Cooper. His massive half-orc feet were beginning to lose ground.
“Just hold them for a few more minutes,” said Tim. “The fuckers are on fire.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” asked Dusty.
“I wouldn’t put it past him!” Julian cried out between sobs. “He forgot about me quickly enough!” He squeezed Ravenus. “You’re my only friend!”
“Julian,” said Tim. “What the fuck are… never mind. Sheglin, what are you talking about?”
The cleric pointed at Dave.
“Huh?” said Dave. “Ooh ohh! Ow! Fuck!” He sprang to his feet. His ass was on fire. “Water water water water water!” he said, gesturing at the floor. A puddle began to form as if it were seeping up out of the dry stone. He quickly plunked his ass down in the water, and the fire hissed out.
“Could use some fucking help over here!” shouted Cooper. He was straining against the door, which now had flames licking up this side of it. The flaming puddle of oil was spreading out under the bottom gap, and would reach his feet soon.
“Fuck!” said Tim. “The door's on fire!”
“Shit!” said Cooper. “What do we do now?”
“Get ready to run,” said Tim. “On three. One, –”
“Fuck that!” said Dave. “Just go!” He jumped up out of his puddle and bolted down the corridor. At least, it started off as a bolt, but soon relaxed into the steady clunk, chunk, clunk, chunk that was Dave's top movement speed in his armor.
Tim grabbed Julian by the ear and pulled hard. “Get up, damn you! We have to go!”
“Just let me die!” Julian cried. “What do you care?”
Cooper abandoned the door, took a step back, and unbuckled his greataxe.
Ka-swoosh! An inferno of blazing undead exploded out of the doorway behind Cooper. There were more than three. In fact, those initial three just fell forward dead dead, charcoal corpses still on fire, but having had all the undeath burnt out of them several rounds ago. They collapsed into the corridor to be trampled by the next wave. The first mummy to stumble out was flaming away nicely, reaching a burning arm out toward Cooper.
“Fuck you!” said Cooper. “And fuck Brendan Fraser!” He caught the mummy under its right arm with his axe, and cleaved up through its left shoulder, neatly removing its arm and head.
Tim aimed his crossbow at the next mummy to come through. This one was also completely engulfed in flames, but Tim’s bolt to the face was still not enough to put it down.
“Magic Missile!” Julian cried from behind Tim. A golden bolt of light whizzed by Tim’s head, and exploded in the mummy’s crotch. It collapsed onto the pile of flaming corpses. That was good. The more flames those fuckers had to walk through, the more likely they'd ignite themselves.
“Let’s move!” said Tim as two more mummies emerged from the doorway. These two weren’t quite as fiery as the others had been. Just some flames creeping up their legs. Julian and Tim ran together. Cooper jogged backwards after them, keeping an eye on the pursuing mummies. The bastards were strong, but they were slow as crap. “We’ll be okay if we keep moving.”
“Feeling better, Julian,” said Dave. He and Dusty had stopped running when the fighting broke out.
“I don’t know what came over me,” said Julian.
“It happened to me too,” said Tim. “Some kind of mummy fear attack or something.”
“More like Crybaby Bitch Syndrome,” said Cooper.
“Hurry along,” said Dusty. “There’s a secret passage around the next corner. We can lose them in there.”
Sure enough, after another hundred feet of running, the corridor turned right. Dusty and Julian were the first to turn the corner. Dave had fallen behind everyone else, but was still moving at least as fast as the mummies.
“Hey Sheglin,” said Cooper as he rounded the corner. “How do you know so much about –” He stopped talking and running as he stared at the fletching of an arrow poking out of his chest.
“The fuck?” Tim shouted.
“Drow!” Dusty called out. He ducked behind one of the corridor's support pillars. Julian mirrored him on the other side of the corridor. It wasn't much cover, but it was better than nothing. But while Julian was merely hiding, Dusty was frantically pawing at random stones along the wall.
“Fuck!” said Tim. “Cooper, get down!” Cooper didn't need to be told twice. His eyes rolled up and he fell fo
rward, slamming his face into the floor.
An arrow struck the wall near Tim's face, chipping some dust into his eye. He ducked back around the corner. Dave was still clunking and chunking forward, no doubt more concerned with the horde of flaming mummies that was chasing him than with the unseen enemy ahead of him.
Tim poked his head back around the corner. “Julian! Toss me some oil.” A couple of arrows clattered off the wall behind him.
Julian reached in his bag, found a flask of oil, and tossed it toward Tim. It was a poor throw, and smashed on the floor about halfway between them. “Sorry!”
“Come on,” said Tim. “Hurry up!”
“Better idea!” said Julian. “Take cover!”
A few seconds later, Ravenus flew around the corner, clutching an oil flask in his talon. “Master Julian says you requested this, sir.”
“Brilliant!” said Tim. “Go drop it on those mummies.”
Ravenus flew off, his black form disappearing into the darkness. A moment later, the barely visible mummy flames burst into raging human-shaped infernos, giving Tim a clear target to shoot at.
“Would you mind,” Dusty's tone was distinctly less polite than his words, “providing me with some cover fire?” He was still searching the wall, while at the same time trying to cling as closely to it as possible.
Tim poked his head around the corner. “I can't even see them!” said Tim.
“Just shoot in that direction!”
“Okay,” said Tim. He fired off a bolt into the hostile darkness. If anyone caught it, they kept that information to themselves.
“Just a second, Tim!” said Julian. And just a second later, he shouted “Light!” The entire corridor lit up. With a flick of his forearm, he sent the light bouncing down the stone hallway. When it stopped, they were left back in the dim light of their one remaining torch, but where the light shone, it revealed the faces of five very surprised-looking drow.
By the time Tim had loaded his next bolt, he spotted one of the drow making a go for the light-enchanted stone Julian had sent their way. Fuck that guy. He fired, catching the drow in the gut. It wasn't fatal, but it wasn't a wound that fucker would soon forget.
Whatever Dusty had been doing with that wall had finally paid off. A section of wall slid to the side, revealing another secret passage. Dusty slipped inside, and Julian was right behind him, narrowly avoiding two more drow arrows.
“Tim!” cried Dave. “The mummies are getting closer. Should I try turning them?”
Tim joined Dave around the corner. “No. Fuck them. Let them come. We need to drag Cooper over to that secret door.” He called out, “Julian! We need a distraction!”
“I’ve got just the thing,” Julian called back. “Horse!”
“Let’s go,” said Tim. He grabbed one of Cooper’s arms, and Dave grabbed the other. Together, they dragged the huge half-orc through the entrance of the secret passage while some poor bastard of a horse whinnied and screamed as it was shot and stabbed to death.
“Unbelievable,” said Dusty. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, using a Mount spell in such a manner.”
“Screw you, Sheglin,” said Tim. “I didn’t hear you coming up with any ideas.”
“Time’s wasting,” Dusty said Curtly. “We must hurry.”
“No,” said Tim. “We need to buy some time to see what's wrong with Cooper.”
“I'm sorry, my boy,” said Dusty, “but it would appear that your friend is dead.”
“Fuck that,” said Tim. “No way he died from a single arrow to the chest. Julian. Give me some oil and summon another horse out there.”
“Um... okay,” said Julian. He cautiously poked his head out from the relative safety of the secret passage, and then yelped as an arrow clattered off the wall right next to his head. “Horse!” he said, quickly pointing a finger.
Tim used the equine obstruction to move about freely, pouring oil on the floor, splashing it all over an area about twenty feet in the direction of the elves, all the way back to the entrance to the secret passage, and a small trail leading to the puddle resulting from Julian’s inept throw, and from there another trail around the corner toward the oncoming mummies. All of this he did to the sound of yet another noble steed screaming and whinnying whilst unwillingly giving its brief life for his and his friends' survival.
By the time he was finished, Dave had dragged Cooper into the secret passage. When the horse had taken all of the arrows it was going to take, the equine screams went silent, replaced by approaching footsteps and incomprehensible whispers.
Julian started to lower the torch to the oil, but Tim stopped him.
“What did you go and waste all of that oil for if you're not going to light it?” asked Julian. “I thought we were trying to buy some time.”
“Sh!” said Tim.
“There's a secret passage in the wall, Master Natel,” said one of the drow. “They went in there.”
“They can't move very fast dragging that half-orc with them,” said another, probably Master Natel. “Vinn, Nightshade, find out the source of that light coming from around the corner and follow in after us.”
“Of course, sir,” said a third voice, oozing with lusty pleasure. Tim guessed that was Nightshade. It sounded like the voice of someone named Nightshade.
“Go!” Tim whispered excitedly. “Hurry!” The dirt walls of the secret passage were barely wide enough apart to drag Cooper's massive body through. Tim hung behind, leveling his crossbow at the secret doorway.
“Come on, Tim!” said Dave.
“Keep going,”said Tim. “I'll catch up.”
The mummies were getting closer. The light from their flaming bodies was growing stronger outside. It was just enough light for Tim to make out the first drow shadow creeping up near the secret entrance. Tim fired. He didn't have a target, but he was successful in making that shadow jump back. Just a little more time. He loaded another bolt.
“Who are you?” Master Natel's voice called in from just outside the tunnel entrance. “What is it you seek here?”
“Um...” said Tim. “We... uh... we seek an item of great religious importance to my friend here.”
“I can assure you,” said the drow. “We have nothing like that in our possession. Now be a good lad and come out of there. We promise to escort you out peacefully and –”
WHOOSH!
Tim smiled to himself as the corridor lit up. The mummies had arrived.
The dank air echoed with drow screams and the clatter of weapons falling to the floor. Apparently, suddenly being on fire came as a great surprise to them.
“What the fuck?” said Cooper. “Where are we?”
Tim ran back to the group. “Cooper, you're awake!”
“Yeah,” said Cooper, sitting up on the dirt floor. “Why wasn't I awake before?”
“You got hit with a drow arrow.” said Tim. “Knocked you right out.”
“What happened to the drow?”
“They're on fire,” said Tim, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “That's them screaming out there.”
“Sweet.”
“Let's go!” Dusty urged.
The rest of the group followed him single file through the cramped secret passage. Tim was last in line. He scattered caltrops in his wake until he had emptied almost half the bag. His little fire stunt wasn't likely to kill his pursuers, and neither were the mummies. The best he could hope to do was weaken them, slow them down, and piss them off.
“That was kind of a dick move,” said Julian as they trudged through the tunnel. “That guy was trying to make peace with us, and you lit him on fire.”
“Have you forgotten,” said Tim, “that your peace-loving friend back there was just trying to murder us? For fuck's sake, they poisoned Cooper!”
“We're invading their home,” said Julian. “And have you forgotten that our kind cleric friend up there just up and murdered one for no reason.”
“E-vil!” said Dusty in a singsong voice.
> “Oh right,” said Julian. “I forgot. Because they're black. Maybe we should have bought a pick-up truck to go with that rope.”
“Look,” said Tim. “This isn't like refusing to fly on a plane because another passenger is wearing a turban. This isn't real life. We're in the manifestation of a game world. The game's rulebook explicitly states that drow are evil. It's the same reason why Cooper can't read or understand a British accent. That's just the way it is.”
“Fine,” said Julian. “I'm still not comfortable with setting people on fire because they're black, though. It just feels wrong.”