Tales of Fantasy, Fables, and Fiction

by Thomas H. Tribble

  "Charge him?" Moornam said with a little of the fire coming back into her voice.

  The henchman stepped forward and said, "Why, Huntress, you know the rules. It is after midnight and you haven't yet paid the guild for the privilege of working this day. Since he was on the job as well, half seems a fair rate to charge him for the work he has done today, although I expect that he won't be doing any more hunting for a while." He now wore a hard scowl on his face.

  Moornam stood up slowly and stared coldly into his eyes. "He's dead. He died just now." Her face had gone pale all of the sudden. Wisdom suggests that when a person's face turns bright red, they are about to do something spawned by anger and usually very violent. The full truth of the matter is that when a person's face turns pale, then they have lost touch with reason. All of their blood has moved from their brain into their limbs. Reason and even pain are no longer of consequence to them. They have become cold, unfeeling violence.

  The henchman backed up slightly as Moornam stared down at him. "Take care, Huntress! I have brought someone to deal with the likes of you." He motioned slightly and from the back of the ranks stepped a very large and horrid looking abomination of a man. "This is Thang, a half-Ogre to match your Orcen blood. More Ogre than half really and stronger than you by far, so take care, madam! Now, PAY UP!"

  Thang pushed aside the other two collectors, took a few steps towards the Huntress, and outstretched his calloused hand. She sized him up at a glance. His armor was rusted but thick, his ax was easily accessible to be drawn, and he was certainly large enough to give even a Hill Giant pause; none of that could have mattered to her less. She approached him slowly and reached down to her coin pouch. She rattled it for all to hear. The sound of gold coins rang aloud. Gold clinking has a certain pitch to it that neither silver nor copper possess. Platinum's ring is almost as lyrical, but only gold's is truly hypnotic.

  Moornam shook out several of the coins and outstretched her hand to the huge henchman in front of her. She held up her closed fist with the palm facing down ready to drop the coins. The Ogre's eyes grew wide with anticipation as he groped towards her hand. Just as he reached forward with both of his hands cupped to catch the bounty, Moornam made a swift, subtle movement and killed the creature. The knife that she had concealed in her other hand was suddenly lodged in the huge entity's throat. Thang grabbed at the knife and backed up. Before any of the other men realized what had happened, Moornam shoved the Half-Ogre into the two smaller men. Then, she threw the heavy coins still in her hand at the head collector as hard as she possibly could. They bounced off of his head and face stunning him for a moment. She jumped forward and grabbed a hold of his wrists, one in each of her own hands, and snapped the bones with a jerk. What happened next can be summed up with a single word; merciless.

  The next morning, Norec's chief investigator, Under-Captain Thorsnen, arrived at the scene. He had once dreamt about becoming Chief-Captain of the town guard but found that he did not have the head for politics that it required nor the penchant for brown nosing. He had learned to be happy being the lord of his more limited domain which included criminal investigation and stolen property recovery. This morning, however, got him seriously thinking about retiring to a farm in the countryside where he grew up.

  Thorsnen had seen some terrible things in his job. About once a year he was witness to something that no man should have to endure. Today was such a day. The patrol guard that had first noticed the bodies was pale and weary from vomiting ever since. Unfortunately, he was young and new to night patrol. The Duty-Sergeant was there also. Thorsnen said to him, "Neal, what have we here? Damn! First just tell me how many bodies there are."

  Sergeant Neal of Veis had made the mistake of having too large a breakfast that day. He usually skipped that meal all together at the end of each month when the city work crews were paid and, therefore, unusually drunken and rowdy. He wished he had not eaten today as well. "Four I think, sir. That one was bear hugged to death, you can tell by the deep arm imprints on his breastplate. There is a man under the Ogre. I think he was beaten to death with his own arm which is over there. It might still be holding a wand of some sort. The Ogre has, well, been thrown around quite a bit but is still mostly intact."

  Thorsnen was well versed in reading tracks and sign. He normally tried to piece together the flow of events at any crime site. In this case, he did not even bother. He stopped and looked at what was left of the head collector. "What do you think, Neal, was this one decapitated then set on fire or vice versa? I believe the latter but it is hard to say."

  The Sergeant just shrugged. After a dull silence he said, "It looks like there is only one set of tracks leading away from this, uh, mess. Wide tracks but short. An Orc maybe? Half-Orc or even Half-Giant... hard to say."

  Thorsnen nodded and replied, "They do not look human, you are right about that. I recognize two of these men. They were both working for the Thieves' Guild last time I met up with them. My guess is that Fain has already heard about this, most likely knows who did it, and is looking for the culprit as we speak."

  "Do you want me to talk to him? I was the first guard to arrest him way back when. I just love the look he still gives me whenever he sees me; pure hatred," Neal said. He sincerely wanted an excuse to leave this crime scene immediately and rousting Fain would certainly be a more enjoyable task than sorting out body parts would be.

  Thorsnen just said, "No, I'll do it. Basically, I don't think I want to know any more about this business. It is just not worth our time. I am just going to tell the Guild that whatever happens had better not involve any bystanders. If I have to see or smell any more of their damn business, Guild Lord Fain is going to have to pay up three times his usual rates for the month. I will tell him that his Guild is getting sloppy so I guess we will just have to start charging him more to clean up their messes. That should get his attention."

  Neal replied, "Oh yes. Fain understands gold. It is a shame he doesn't understand irony as well."

  Chapter 5 - Dangerous Visions

  The noonday sun was bright through the clear sky. Early spring was certainly alive in the crisp air. The windows of the monastery were still kept closed for the most part against the mild winter but one or two of them were opened a hair to let the fresh air in. From the second story windows and above, a rider could be seen approaching the compound from the dense grove of trees that ringed it. Even from that distance, Druces's secretary, Fenlles, could make out that the rider was large and had a laden horse in tow.

  There had been several riders that had visited the monastery in the past few days bearing packages and messages for the Lady that he served. Something was afoot. Fortunately, as Druces's main secretary, he knew much of what was transpiring. Still, he did not know all of it and that bothered him. He had spent far too much effort trying to become indispensable to be kept this far out of current affairs. It was not fair to him and he suspected that Druces knew that but did not care. The business the order was into now was complex and subtle. Fenlles could truly only speculate at some of it but he did keep up with the general comings and goings of the messengers. The fact that he was incurably nosey had probably gotten him the post that he now served at. Knowledge can be a powerful weapon when wielded by the unscrupulous. He always hoped that it would be his path to success.

  The rider came through the main portcullis and dismounted quickly. Fenlles could see that the rider was Half-Orcen and, possibly, a woman. "What manner of man would willingly mate with an Orc?" he wondered. A woman getting raped by Orcen savages seemed more likely to him, but that thought disturbed him equally. It disturbed most people and that kept Half-Orcs on a very low rung on the social ladder.

  Moornam made to untie Maeven's body from his horse and carry it in to the chapel. She hesitated and decided to speak with whoever was in charge of the monastery at the moment. She walked directly into the main tower and met the under secretary, a small man with a wide face. The man tried to convince her to leave and the two of
them had an unpleasant exchange of words by the time Fenlles arrived in the chamber.

  "It is all right, my son," Fenlles told the man. Then, he turned to the Half-Orc and said, "I am Fenlles. What can we do for you today?"

  Moornam sized him up as someone who possibly had some authority and replied, "I wish to speak with the head of your order. It will be a quick meeting I can assure you. Lady Druces was in charge the last time I was here. She might even remember me if she is still extant."

  Fenlles also tried to discourage Moornam from insisting on a meeting with his Master, but then decided to let the Lady choose for herself. Interrupting her in the middle of her duties was not something Fenlles had any philosophical trouble doing. Moornam waited for some time before Fenlles returned and bid her to follow him into an anti-chamber. Druces arrived shortly thereafter in what seemed a foul mood.

  Moornam bowed slightly and said to her, "Lady Druces, I am the Huntress Moornam. I hope you can forgive my brashness."

  Druces motioned for the Half-Orc to have a seat across from the desk where she sat down. "Yes, I remember you somewhat. You were part of a group of assassins that were hired some time ago. I have thought that you were all savvy enough to not ride here unhidden in full daylight," she said blandly.

  Moornam knew better than to mince words with someone that she needed something from so she tried to play this meeting coolly. "I am all that is left of that group, Lady. I come to you only as a matter of urgency. Put plainly, I have need of your help. While pursuing one of the bounties decried by your Lord, my comrade has been killed. I would be beholding to you if you could revive him. Also, since there is now quite a lot of activity in the town, I believe that my prey, Bourne, and his company may be moving to another location. I believe I know where to look for him but that will take some more time. I am close to him though; on his heels. Once Maeven is alive and able to travel, my long hunt will come to an end."

  Druces simply looked at her very hard for some time. "I am afraid I cannot help you in this matter, Huntress," she said slowly. "My means are currently spread rather thin. There is much transpiring on the nether planes and so...."

  "The nether planes!?!?" ejaculated Moornam. "Surely you jest. I am talking about snaring Bourne. Your Lord has decried that he be brought to justice by any means for his transgressions. Surely you will render me aid now!"

  Lady Druces sighed slightly and asked, "Your associate has been raised from the dead before, is that right?"

  "Two or three times that I know of," answered Moornam.

  "Well," Druces replied, "I think you should take that as a sign that this business that you are in is simply too dangerous for him. Death is an inevitability that we all must face. His time has simply come upon him sooner than you or he would have liked."

  Moornam tried to control herself and said, "You try to placate me with your smooth tongue, Lady. But I need him to bring the scoundrel Bourne to you. Think of the adulation Loal.... your Lord will give you for personally having him in custody. But, I can only deliver him to you alive with Maeven's aid."

  "Raising the dead is an expensive and complicated business, Huntress. I should think that you could find a hundred or more willing and able rogues to assist you."

  Moornam shook her head, "None that would be as loyal."

  Druces simply replied, "I have no doubts that you are sincere but the plain fact is that Bourne is no longer a threat to our order. In fact, I expect that the bounty on him will be nullified within a matter of days. So, unfortunately, Maeven's worth to us is also nullified."

  Moornam sat for a moment speechless. Barely able to control herself she all but yelled, "I have pursued him for the better part of two years and now you are just going to let him go?"

  "Not pursued wholly. You have taken other bounties in that time; that much I do know. It was only when we re-doubled the price on Bourne's head that you truly became committed to his capture," replied Druces.

  Moornam said, "Be that as it may, he is within my grasp and I will have him!"

  Druces said flatly, "Maybe that would be unwise. Bourne's value to us has undergone a revision of late. I think, perhaps, that you should let this business with him abate. I am truly sorry for your loss, but I am simply not in a position to help you now. That being the case, I think it would be better for you if your companion were not brought back to aid you at this time. You need to seek wisdom, not cunning." Druces sat across from the huge woman ready to cast of particularly powerful series of spells against her should the Half-Orc make any sudden moves.

  Moornam shook her head slightly as if she could not believe what she was hearing. An Orcen rage boiled up inside her. Had she not been inside the receiving room of one of Lolth's monasteries, she might have snapped and committed another set of atrocities. She had no regrets for the ones committed the night before, but Druces's calmness bothered her. "You have made a deal with him, haven't you?" she finally said.

  Druces shrugged slightly and replied, "Now, now, Huntress. The affairs of my order are not for the uninitiated. But, I can tell you that there are plenty of other opportunities for you. I can get you a list of other, lesser transgressors that our Lord has placed a price on." But, Moornam just got up and walked towards the door. "This matter is concluded, Huntress! Make no mistake."

  Moornam stopped for only a moment and replied, "Not if it is still in Bourne's hands, Lady." Moornam walked away from the monastery slowly. She synched Maeven's corpse across his horse and mounted her own steed. To the casual onlooker, she might have appeared confused or even dazed. The truth of the matter was far from that. She may have been somewhat taken aback but she was never confused. By the time she had ridden a furlong, she had already decided what she must do. Her face had become a marble statue of resolve. If Druces was not going to be forthcoming with her, then she would just have to find another Cleric that would be. Damn them. Damn all the Clerics and damn The Dark Lord himself! She was going to get her revenge. Bourne would be hers. Damn them all.

  The day's sunset was a hazy affair due to a light shower that had come down during the afternoon. Nonetheless, the group met once again at the warehouse at that time. Ornam had decided to stay at home that night. He and Strom had been stopped and questioned no less than four times during the day by Thieves Guild members which made him very unsettled. So, he thought he should stay at his abode and make sure he and his wife were safe.

  The group spoke at some length about the sudden surge in Guild activities for they had all felt it that day. Bourne had said nothing to anyone about the attack he had escaped from the night before and did not now either. He decided that he should tell Strom and Beneth at some point, but he did not want to worry Leena. The group finally agreed that it was none of their affair but that relocating to another town in a day or two might be the best idea. Then, the discussion at hand concerning the quest was continued.

  Bourne began to explain his thoughts, "I have decided that hiring one or two dozen men to aid us would be folly. Not only would using a large number of mercenaries result in many more deaths, but the mere act of recruiting such men would most likely belie our secrecy in this matter.

  "Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that what is needed to solve our problems is a diversion at Tantalus's front gates to draw his clan forth. Then, walls of force or iron could be produced to hold them off while we attack the god from behind. This strategy will aid us in escaping the horde via teleportation and by other means. It would be one dimensional thinking to not consider that a few of us could climb out of the stronghold while others are magically withdrawn." This statement caused much discussion to ensue. Leena and Beneth were quick to agree with Bourne but Durrock and Tassif were less easy to convince.

  Strom opined, "I agree with the idea that we, as a group, should be able to dispatch Tantalous.... barring some unforeseen series of mishaps. Killing any god is no easy matter but its origins as a mere demon convince me that its powers are minor compared to the deities of old. Also, none of us
are novices and we have each already survived much. I also agree that hiring more men would complicate an already complicated situation. However, between creating distractions, sealing off entire chambers, teleportation, and who knows what else, our resources will be spread rather thin. We cannot hope to find the god wholly alone either. The stronghold maps suggest we may have one or two major engagements before entering the god's lair and that is the issue. We cannot hope to defeat a god, be it a demi-god or not, after fighting off thirty or more men while inside of large, vaulted rooms. Stealth will be of no use to us once our presence is known."

  Beneth then interjected, "Then I have some good news for you all. Tassif and I consulted with his weapons dealer. It seems that he is both willing and able to provide me with the components I will need to create a few spell scrolls with Wall of Stone enchantments placed on them. In addition, I think I have found a way to seal off the necessary chambers before any attack is made by us by means that the dealer has provided to us quite reasonably.

  Strom shook his head and said, "What's the catch? You certainly did not tell this dealer who we were going to attack I hope!"

  "Nothing of the sort! He guessed it for himself," replied Tassif. "I think the ultra-powerful antidotes and anti-poisons we purchased pretty much belied us. Fortunately, he is as discreet as he is astute so we have nothing to worry about on his account."

  Leena agreed, "That is true. In fact, he is the most discrete merchant I have ever come across. I would also assume that he has no love for Tantalous either. But, what is the catch?"

  Beneth replied with a slight sigh, "Put simply, he would like to have the Spider god's eyes after we dispatch him. They should prove useful (and therefore valuable) to a mage that can employ their innate powers. So, we made a deal."

  Bourne said flatly, "So, you have decided on using Walls of Stone instead of Walls of Force to seal the bulk of the Clerics off from our group?"