 
## Forgotten Lore

Secrets of a Lost Age

Kenneth McDonald

Kmcdonald4101@gmail.com

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2020 by Kenneth McDonald

Cover Credit: the cover image is adapted from the painting _Valley of Cuernavaca_ by Thomas Moran (1903). The image is in the public domain.

* * * * *

Works by Kenneth McDonald

The Ogre at the Crossroads

Forgotten Lore

First Series

Secrets of a Lost Age

Warriors of Shadow

The Shattered Key

Mysteries of the Book

Second Series

The Road to Ironbridge

The Towers of Khormur-Dhain

The Graves Crew

The Graves Crew and the Restless Dead

The Graves Crew and the Damned Dam

The Graves Crew and the Firestar Amulet

The Graves Crew and the Road of Doom

The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest

The Graves Crew and the Mountain Fortress

_The Adventures of the Graves Crew, Volume 1_ (omnibus paperback edition)

_The Adventures of the Graves Crew, Volume 2_ (omnibus paperback edition)

Refugees of the Crucible

Powerless

Overpowered

Balance of Power

Power Play

Soul Weapons

Wizard's Shield

Soul of the Sword

Wizard's Stone

Tales of the Soul Weapons

The Dwarf on the Mountain

_Legends of the Soul Weapons, Volume 1_ (omnibus paperback edition)

_Legends of the Soul Weapons, Volume 2_ (omnibus paperback edition)

The Colors of Fate

Black Shadows Gather

Green Hearts Weep

Red Vengeance Rising

Faded Yellow Dreams

Blazing White Stars

Shiny Golden Schemes

Silent Gray Depths

_The Colors of Fate, Volume 1_ (omnibus paperback edition)

_The Colors of Fate, Volume 2_ (omnibus paperback edition)

The Mages of Sacreth

The Labyrinth

Of Spells and Demons

Grimm's War

Grimm's Loss

Grimm's Love

Of Blood and Magic

Of Steel and Sorcery

The Godswar Trilogy

Paths of the Chosen

Choice of the Fallen

Fall of Creation

Daran's Journey

Heart of a Hero

Soul of a Coward

Will of a Warrior

Courage of a Champion

* * * * *

Foreword

Like many nerdy kids of my generation, _Dungeons & Dragons_ led me to fantasy.

A friend introduced me to the game in middle school. He had the _Basic Set_ , and after a few of us rolled up characters (my recollection is that my first character was an elf), he took us into _The Keep on the Borderlands_. I remember goblins and pits and an ogre, but not many other details. But it didn't take me too long before I bought the first edition _Player's Handbook_ , _Dungeon Master's Guide,_ and _Monster Manual._ I was the Dungeon Master for a number of groups in high school and college, and have kept my hand in from time to time since then.

What really made D&D ubiquitous was video games. The same friend who took us into the Caves of Chaos had _The Temple of Apshai_ on his dad's computer, and later the _Ultima_ series would consume many, many hours of virtual adventuring. The first Gold Box games came out while I was in college, and I remember devouring _Pool of Radiance_ and all of the sequels that followed. I never got into massively multiplayer online roleplaying games like _Everquest_ or _World of Warcraft_ , but in 2002 _Neverwinter Nights_ came out, which allowed gamers a chance to play a version of D&D online. I joined an online community called Neverwinter Connections (NWC), and over the next 10 years built, hosted, and played in dozens of campaigns. As of this writing I'm still running a weekly game of NWN with my regular gaming group. And today, of course, there are millions of players joining games through MeetUps or virtual tabletop programs like Roll20 and Fantasy Grounds.

I consumed fantasy books by the dozens in my teens and twenties. I started writing stories in high school, and by grad school I was writing novels. It was D&D again that prompted me to take the next step in sharing my work, as I started posting serialized stories at the ENWorld D&D community site in 2001. I took the next step and began self-publishing my work on Smashwords in 2010, and the Amazon Kindle Store in 2011.

_Forgotten Lore_ began as another ENWorld story in January 2017. I started it shortly after I bought the D&D 5th edition core books. I was inspired by the way that the designers of the game tried to evoke the basic appeal of the game's origins. While many of my books have been influenced by D&D and the classic fantasy I grew up with, this story in particular is an homage to the game system that allowed the nerdy kids of an entire generation to pretend they were muscled warriors, powerful wizards, crafty thieves, and any other kind of hero we could imagine. I hope you enjoy it.

* * * * *

Book 1: YOU MUST GATHER YOUR PARTY...

Chapter 1

Two men, one young and one old, were sparring with wooden swords in the enclosed courtyard behind the smithy. They went back and forth in the confined space, their boots kicking up swirls of dust that were caught in the violent sweeps of their weapons. It was obvious from one look that both were smiths, their arms and chests chiseled with cords of muscle under taut flesh. They had clearly just come from their labors inside, the younger man bare-chested and slick with sweat, the older wearing an old leather apron seared with black marks. But an observer would quickly note that their sparring was not just an idle game. The younger of the two looked to be barely past adolescence, but he fought with an intensity that bespoke many long hours of practice. His opponent was more than twice his age, but he too moved with a calm efficiency that caught the youth's aggressive swings with parries that quickly turned into darting counterattacks.

The pace intensified rather than slowed as the session continued, the clack of blades forming a rapid staccato. The two were so intent on their clash that neither noticed the slender young woman who slipped through the half-open side gate. She did not look like the type of person who would escape notice often. The pale blonde hair that framed her features and toppled onto her shoulders didn't fully hide the slightly pointed ears that suggested elvish blood in her heritage. She was dressed in a light blue coat in a fashionable cut over gray trousers tucked into knee-high boots. But as she turned through the gate the afternoon sunlight briefly blazed on something she was carrying: an exceptionally-formed silver lyre with seven strings.

The flash caught the attention of the younger man, who turned his head just as the elder launched into a decisive backhanded sweep. The youth realized his mistake too late and threw up his weapon in a desperate parry. The older man pulled back his stroke before it would have caromed off his opponent's forehead, but the impact still knocked the practice sword from the young man's grasp. It flew across the courtyard and slid to a stop right in front of the visitor.

"Ah... sorry," she said as both men turned to face her.

"Quite all right, Miss Leliades," the older smith said. "It appears we need to work on our concentration, in any case."

The younger man colored slightly as he hurried over to recover his fallen weapon. "Hi, Glori," he said.

"Hey, Bredan. Master Karras. I didn't mean to interrupt. I could watch you two fight all day." She let her eyes flick over the young smith's muscled torso in a way that had the flush on his cheeks deepening.

"Ah..." Bredan said.

"We were nearly done with the day's labors, in any case," the elder smith added. His voice had just a hint of a southern accent, adding a bit of exotic flavor to his words. He looked over at Bredan. "You should go, buy this girl a cool drink. Maybe walk down by the river. It is pretty now, with all the flowers."

"But uncle, I thought you wanted me to finish working on the hinges for Jofram..."

"Bah!" Karras interrupted. "You would rather stay in the forge then go out into the town? You are a strange boy! Now go, wash up, and put on a clean shirt!"

Bredan shot Glori a wry look before he headed toward the smithy. His uncle tossed him his wooden sword, and the young warrior hung both weapons on the rack beside the door before he went inside. There was a practical armory of simulated arms there, from axes to spears to swords of all size and shape. Most were made of wood, but there were some blunted iron blades as well. From the wear on the two big swords that they'd been using it seemed like the greatsword was the preferred choice for their sparring sessions.

"And how are you, Miss Leliades?" Karras asked once Bredan had gone inside. "Still performing at the Boar's Tusk?"

"Mostly, though lately I've been spending more time in the taverns along Mercantile Way. Things have been pretty slow of late. Not as many caravans coming through."

"Trade is like the tide, it ebbs and flows," Karras said, though Crosspath was hundreds of miles from the seacoast. "We keep busy."

"I've heard some reports of trouble in the north," Glori said, fidgeting with the strap of her lyre while her eyes drifted back toward the closed door where Bredan had gone inside the house that backed onto the smithy. "The caravan guards say that the raids have been stronger than usual. Orcs, goblinoids, maybe worse. Rumor has it that King Dangren's sending troops north to Adelar."

Karras was quiet for a moment. "I have heard that as well," he finally said.

Glori shifted her attention back to the old smith. "Do you think there will be a war? The King, he could call upon the elves and dwarves for aid again, like in the time of King Alephron." She seemed both excited and frightened by the prospect, her pale green eyes all but glowing.

Karras shook his head slowly. "I've been in a war," he said. "I hope you and Bredan never have to know what it is like to be caught in one."

"But surely the fighting wouldn't make it this far south..." she began.

"War is like a pestilence," the smith said. "It spreads rapidly and has an effect that extends well beyond those it touches directly."

Glori nodded toward the weapon rack. "But you spend all that time preparing, training Bredan to fight."

"The world is what it is," Karras said. "I want Bredan to be ready for it. I promised his father."

" _Is_ he ready?" Glori asked. "I mean, he seems pretty good with that big piece of wood, but I'm not much of a judge of that kind of thing."

"From what Bredan says, you have some skill with the smallbow."

"Yeah, well." She flicked up the hair covering the side of her face. "Comes with the ears, I guess."

"I have known more than a few elves in my time," Karras said. "Enough to know that they earn their skills through long and intense practice, the same as everyone else. Archery is not a hereditary trait."

Her lips twisted in a smirk, but before she could come up with a quip in response the door burst open and Bredan reappeared. It was clear he'd washed and changed in a hurry; his shirt, while more or less clean, was still untucked, and his damp hair was a tousled mess. He was buckling on a belt that supported a small purse and a dagger in a plain leather scabbard. Karras shook his head as his nephew kicked the door shut behind him and came over to rejoin them.

"Is there anything you need from town, uncle?" Bredan asked.

"No, no. Go on, have fun."

"I'll be back before supper..."

"Bah, I give you leave to go, and you try to argue away your freedom! You are a strange boy. Go, go!"

"I'll keep an eye on him, Master Karras," Glori said, decisively taking Bredan by the arm and steering him toward the gate.

* * * * *

Chapter 2

"Thanks for... you know, back there," Bredan said, as he and Glori walked along the street that led into the core of Crosspath.

The smithy was situated on the edge of town, sharing company with other shops and businesses that produced loud noises or unpleasant smells. Bredan waved to one of the stablemen at Cody's Yards as they passed, while Glori wrinkled her nose and looked dubiously at the horses in the paddock that extended back from the road.

"Your uncle just wants you to be happy," Glori said.

"I know. I just don't want to disappoint him. Ever since father... he's been very good to me."

"He was in the king's army, he saw an awful lot of the world outside Crosspath."

"I know you saw a good part of it too, before your master..." With a flinch and a glance over at her he quickly snapped his mouth shut. Her jaw tightened, but she let him try again. "You've traveled a lot," he finally managed. "But nothing in all the stories you've told me has convinced me that people are any different out there than they are here."

She briefly laid a hand on his arm. "I'll I'm saying is that he might surprise you."

"Speaking of surprises," he said, on more certain ground now. "What's this visit about, really?"

She looked over at him and offered a subtly exaggerated blink. "What do you mean? I'm getting a cool drink and maybe a nice sunset walk along the river."

Bredan snorted. "I've known you long enough to know when you're up to something, especially since that's usually all the time."

She sniffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, you're going to tell me sooner or later, might as well do it now."

She shot him another considering look, then nodded. "I heard about a job."

"I thought you had a job."

"No, a job for _us_."

"Glori..."

"Are you going to hear me out, or not?"

"Fine."

"Do you know Starfinder?"

"The wizardess?"

"Okay, first off, it's 'wizard,' the way you said it makes you sound like a jerk. That's the kind of thing that could get us off on the wrong foot with her."

Bredan rolled his eyes, but he was careful to turn his head away first. "I'm already not liking this. What does a wizard need with a smith and a bard?"

"Well, hear me out. There's something she needs. From the Dry Hills..."

"No," he said. "No!" he repeated, holding up a hand when she tried to cut in. "Aren't you the one who always says that every story about the Dry Hills begins in two ways: 'So we were in the Dry Hills and ran into these bandits,' or 'So we were in the Dry Hills and ran into this terrible monster?'"

"You're exaggerating. Besides, from what I just saw, you could handle either, if we got you a _real_ sword."

"My uncle would never allow it."

"That's odd, I thought you were an adult."

"Make fun, but it's a terrible idea. Dangerous, for one."

"She's offering four hundred."

Bredan nearly tripped, though the road was only a little bit muddy. " _Gold_? Wait, no, I don't want to know."

"How much do you make working for your uncle again?"

Bredan didn't bother answering the question. "I'm a smith, not a treasure hunter. And besides, everyone knows that the ruins in the Dry Hills have all been looted."

"Then it will be an easy score. Starfinder will pay half even if the place is empty."

_That's stupid,_ Bredan started to say, but he bit the words off before they could escape his mouth. He didn't actually _know_ any wizards, but they had strange ways and were different from ordinary folk, everyone knew that. "It's still too dangerous for two people," he said.

"Well, as it happens, I know a lot of folks," Glori said. "I bet I could find a few more people who might be interested. Or there might be others who respond to the notice, it was posted over at the Tusk where anybody could see it."

"Based on the sort of folks I've seen you hang out with, that's hardly reassuring," he said. But when he saw the effect his words had he quickly added, "I'll think about it, okay? I will, I promise. And I'd have to talk to my uncle, my absence from the forge would affect his business. Especially if I never came back," he added in an undertone.

"That's very fair," she said.

He started to turn around, and she asked, "Where are you going?"

"What? I thought this was why you came to see me. I really do have a lot of work to do."

She stood in the road and folded her arms across her chest. "I believe I was promised a drink, and I intend to collect."

* * * * *

Chapter 3

Quellan was in a hurry. Normally he tried not to rush. For one thing, it was undignified, especially when he was dressed in the plain wool robe that was the common attire at the monastery. For another, it tended to startle people when they saw him approaching quickly.

He imagined that he could feel the ground shaking under his feet, though the stones of the monastery were each the size of a cart. He was wearing soft slippers that made a slapping sound as he hurried—not quite running, _that_ would be unacceptable—through the familiar halls.

As he came to the intersection next to the Chamber of Contemplation, he ran into Sister Delia. Not literally, of course—the old woman might not have survived that—but even so she looked up at him with an expression that was stern and obviously critical of his haste.

"Is there a fire in the rectory, Brother Emberlane?" she asked.

"No... no, of course not, Sister," Quellan said. His voice was deep and a bit guttural, no matter how he tried to work on his enunciation. It was difficult to speak clearly when one had tusks the size of a thumb jutting from one's jaw, or a splayed nose the size of a tea saucer that whistled whenever he breathed heavily.

He liked Sister Delia. She was one of the few people at the monastery who never looked at him differently because of his mixed origins. She could be equally stern toward everyone, and was not intimidated by a half-orc that loomed over her like a giant and could crush her with a single swipe of his mottled arm.

"So what brings you running into the Halls of Meditation? Has the Master of Books received a new volume? No, that would draw an entire stampede of you Hosrenites..."

Quellan's hand reflexively sought out the wooden icon that hung from a long throng almost to his belly. The thick disk was carved with the representation of an open book on the front, the symbol of his service to Hosrenu, god of knowledge. Delia wore a similar icon around her neck, but hers bore the blazing sun of Sorevas. It was one of the little games at the monastery that the adherents of the various faiths teased each other, but Quellan knew well how unusual it was to have a sacred place where the followers of different faiths could collaborate and cohabitate in an atmosphere of relative tolerance. That such a place could thrive in a town as isolated as Crosspath was a testament to the will of Abbess Laurine, who had been leader here throughout the reign of nearly a dozen Arreshian kings. Just the fact of the monastery's existence had probably saved his life, Quellan thought.

Delia was still looking up at him, and he realized he hadn't responded to her comment. "Ah, no, Sister," he stammered. "I was looking for Brother Stonefist. I have... I'm on an important errand for the Abbess."

Delia quirked an eyebrow impressively. "I see," she said. "I believe that you will find Brother Stonefist meditating in the Rock Garden."

"Thank you, Sister," Quellan said. He could feel Delia's eyes on his back as he continued on his way, and he managed to keep a measured stride until he'd rounded the next bend in the hall. Then he resumed his brisk pace.

The Rock Garden was squeezed into the narrow space between the back of the Greater Hall and the stone wall that ringed the monastery complex. This late in the day the sun had already dropped beyond the wall, though the upper part of the hall was still ablaze in light that sparkled golden on the narrow windows of the solarium.

True to its name, the space was mostly bare stone, punctuated by a few sparse patches of plants that didn't need much in the way of direct light to prosper. But the Rock Garden was anything but dull. Quellan found its sparseness refreshing. Every stone felt like it had been painstakingly situated in its proper place. The paths that wound through the area offered changing vistas that stimulated thought and offered privacy in a place that often felt crowded, at least to him.

He didn't have to go searching for Kosk. The dwarf was kneeling in the gravel near the entrance to the garden. He was bent forward so that he appeared to be staring intently at the ground directly in front of him.

"Is that a new form of meditation?" Quellan asked.

The dwarf did not respond at first. The position he was in had to be terribly uncomfortable, but Quellan had given up trying to comprehend the various rituals of physical discipline and denial practiced by the monastery's small cadre of monks.

"I am practicing envy," Kosk finally said.

Quellan walked over to join him, but the dwarf made a gesture for him to remain back a step. Curious now, the half-orc sat down, heedless of the gravel that poked him through the coarse fabric of his robe.

He could see now that the object of the dwarf's fascination was a tiny black beetle, barely the size of Quellan's thumbnail. It was moving slowly across the gravel pathway, weaving around larger bits of rock while apparently unaware of the scrutiny being paid to its progress.

"What are we envious of?" Quellan asked. "The simplicity of its life?"

"Focus," Kosk said. "To this creature, this yard is like a vast desert. The bits of gravel are like boulders, these pebbles mountains. There are two vast creatures watching that could crush the life from it with a casual step, yet it continues on the way to its destination."

"That bush over there?"

"It doesn't matter." Kosk abruptly rose up. He stood in an odd manner, placing his hands palm-down on the ground and then levering his body up until his entire weight was balanced on his hands. Then he bent his elbows until his bare chin was nearly touching the gravel before he thrust up and with a grunt flipped up onto his feet. Quellan was strong, a gift of his bloodline, but he knew that his friend carried a lot of power in his compact form. The dwarf was not a young man, and his body and face bore the marks of an interesting life. He'd arrived at the monastery only shortly after Quellan, almost five years ago now. Kosk never spoke about his past, and Quellan had never thought to pry. The dwarf was unlike anyone else at the monastery, certainly unlike all of the other monks, and perhaps that more than anything else had made the half-orc want to make him his friend.

The dwarf was watching him with a look that was growing increasingly impatient. Quellan stood in a more conventional manner, brushing off the bits of gravel that clung to his robe. "I have news."

"I can see. I haven't seen you this excited since the Librarian got that fifth volume of _The Histories of the Northern Civilizations_ last month."

"This is actual news. A mission. From the Abbess. There's this wizard in the town, she has a job, the Abbess owes her a favor, she—the wizard—she needs this artifact that's..."

"When do we leave?" Kosk interrupted.

"Leave? Ah, we're supposed to meet with the wizard tomorrow morning."

"All right then." He started to turn away.

"Don't you want to hear more about the mission?"

"I reckon you'll tell me on the way." The dwarf flexed his thick fingers. "I've been out here meditating for a bloody hour. Right now, I need to break something."

Leaving the cleric to stare after him in surprise, Kosk trudged back across the yard and went inside.

* * * * *

Chapter 4

They ended up staying out later than Bredan had intended.

The streets of Crosspath were fairly dark as he and Glori made their way back toward the outskirts of town. The street lanterns that lit the way in the town center became less frequent as they proceeded onward, and the night pressed in around them in the gaps, enfolding them in deep shadows.

Bredan was feeling a little unsteady. They'd each had a few mugs of ale with their dinner at the Boar's Tusk, where Glori received free meals and discounts on drinks due to her regular arrangement there. A few of the locals had asked her for a song or a story, but she waved them off with a few smiles and promises of later performances. Afterwards they'd stopped off at The Ragged Tinker, another of the taverns where Glori was well-known, and someone had thrust a full mug into his hand. Bredan couldn't justify turning down a free drink, so...

He focused on putting his feet down carefully on the uneven surface of the road. Glori, walking beside him, seemed to be having no difficulty with either the drink or the darkness. Of course, she had the sharp eyes of her elven heritage, Bredan reminded himself. He had to admit that he was glad she'd come along. He'd tried to insist that she remain in town, so she wouldn't have to walk back alone in the dark, but she in turn had reminded him that she knew how to take care of herself.

As they walked, he found out about her ulterior motive, as she continued the conversation that had dominated dinner. She didn't quite bring up the wizard's offer again—she'd promised to give him time to think about it—but she regaled him with familiar tales of the treasure hunters who had brought fortunes out of the Dry Hills, uncovered caches of artifacts from the long-lost Mai'i Empire or long forgotten fragments of magical lore. Bredan let her go on, didn't offer comment, but he knew that those stories were set in a decade or longer in the past. Adventurers and fortune-seekers still occasionally came to Crosspath, but it was as a waystop on the way to someplace more interesting.

The breeze shifted and Bredan smelled something, an acrid reek of something burning. He looked over but realized that Glori was no longer there, and that she'd stopped talking. He turned around, confused, but saw her just a few steps back, staring past him with a startled look on her face.

When she saw that he was looking at her she said, "Bredan..."

But he'd already turned back and stared at the road ahead. The night was almost complete in that direction, but he could see a faint glow over the uneven outlines of the buildings that lined the right side of the road. That glow was just enough to reveal plumes of smoke that rose up into the night sky.

"Bredan!" Glori called, but he was already running, heedless of the hazards of the muddy road in the dark.

By the time he got within a hundred yards of the smithy he could see the flames pouring up from the top of structure. When he finally came around the bulk of the adjacent stables he could see that the entire building was on fire, both the shop in the front and the living quarters attached to the back. He was dimly aware of men rushing around near the stables, no doubt trying to keep the fire from spreading to their property, and the panicked screams of horses. But his main attention was on his home of the last ten years being consumed as the fire tore through it.

He didn't realize that he had started forward toward the flames before Glori grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him back. "Bredan!" For a moment he almost tore free, but then the fear on her face helped pull him back into himself.

"My uncle..." he said.

"Bredan!" a voice shouted from across the street. He turned and saw that the hail had come from the covered porch of Kesren Tull's shop. The leatherworker was there with a couple of other people, but Bredan's attention instantly focused on the blackened form sitting propped up against the front of the workshop. The onlookers made way as Bredan ran over to them.

As he knelt beside his uncle he saw with relief that it wasn't as bad as it had first looked. The elder Karras was covered in soot, and his breathing was ragged, but he was alive and conscious.

"What happened?" Bredan asked.

His uncle looked up at him and tried to say something, but a spell of coughing overcame him and Kesren had to hold him up. It looked ridiculous, the diminutive gnome supporting the comparatively huge bulk of the smith, but at the moment Karras looked more than his age. "I don't know," Kesren said. "I was in the back of my shop... I smelled the fire before I saw it. By the time I got to the street the whole place was engulfed in flames. Your uncle, he just barely got out ahead of it."

Karras tried to speak again, only to fail as his coughing fit redoubled. "Get him some water!" Kesren yelled, but Bredan turned and looked for his companion. "Glori..."

The half-elven woman was already kneeling beside him, shifting her lyre around so that it dangled in front of her. She drew out the small silver plectrum that she used to pluck the strings, and took a single steadying breath before she began to play.

Bredan had heard Glori play her lyre many times, but he had only seen her work its magic on a few rare occasions. He could feel the change with just the first few notes. The folks gathered around them grew quiet, and even the sounds of chaos coming from across the street seemed to fade away as the music swirled out of the strings. The lyre seemed to glow as Glori's fingers rippled across the instrument, and for a moment Bredan thought he could almost see the notes drifting between her and his uncle. Karras immediately stopped coughing, and his body arched as he sucked in a deep breath.

A moment later Glori stopped playing. Even though he hadn't been a direct part of her working, Bredan felt as though a load had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Uncle?" he asked.

Karras took in another breath. "I'm fine. Thank you."

"What happened?"

"I... I don't know. I was working... there was a flash, and then fire... everywhere. I barely had time to get out. Everything lost... it's all gone..."

He tried to get up, but Bredan, Glori, and Kesren all pushed him down together. "I'm fine, I tell you," the smith protested, but Glori put on her stern face. "You need to rest, Master Karras."

"You can stay with us tonight," Kesren said. "You and Bredan both."

"They're bringing a cart," another of the bystanders said.

"Nonsense. I can walk," Karras said. He stood up, slowly, the others lingering around him in case Glori's healing magic hadn't fully negated the effects of his brush with death. He crossed to the railing that ran across the front of the porch, and stood there staring at the shell of his home and business.

"I'm sorry," Bredan said. "I should have been here..."

"No, don't take this on, it's not your weight to carry," Karras said sternly. "We'll figure it out. We'll figure it out."

More people were arriving from the town, some carrying buckets or shovels or other tools to fight the fire. It didn't look like the fire would spread; one benefit of being on the outskirts of the town was that the buildings tended to be further apart than in the more concentrated core. There would still have to be patrols, alert to the possibility of embers traveling on the evening breeze landing on a dry shingle or a mound of hay bales in a back yard. But there was nothing that could be done for the dying building. All the two smiths could do was watch as the flames swirled up into the night and everything they owned was consumed in a blazing pyre.

* * * * *

Chapter 5

Bredan ducked low under a fallen beam and carefully watched where he was putting his feet as he moved into the burned-out wreckage of the smithy. He had known every inch of this place intimately before the disaster, but now there were only ruined echoes of the once-familiar workshop. Only the two anvils were more or less intact, but one was completely buried by fallen debris and the other was covered in a crust of crisped shingles and ashes that distorted its distinctive shape. An acrid stink filled his nostrils and tickled his lungs with each breath he took.

"Uncle?"

He didn't shout, but his voice sounded unnaturally loud in his own ears, as if the fire had transformed the interior of the shop into an empty temple. But a moment later he heard a shuffle and a call from the back room. "Bredan. I'm in here."

It was only a dozen steps from the entry to the open doorway, but Bredan took them slowly and with care. He thought he'd been prepared by the destruction in the front of the shop, but as he reached the doorway he sucked in a startled breath.

The fire had been even more thorough here in its destruction. The neatly-ordered racks and their carefully-sorted cargoes had been transformed into a gory wreckage. The day was overcast and dreary, but even if the sun had been out it couldn't have done more than highlight the devastation. The entire back wall of the room had collapsed along with the roof, letting in the pale light of the morning. Bredan's uncle was over by that mound of debris, digging in the rubble. On seeing Bredan he waved him over. "Come here, give me a hand with this."

"Uncle, you shouldn't be in here, it's not safe." Bredan looked up at the few roof beams left intact and the damaged walls that were still left around them. "This whole place could collapse."

"I just need to get one thing." From the soot smeared on his arms and his face he'd been digging around for quite some time already. For a moment Bredan's mind flashed back to the way his uncle had looked the night before when he'd been lying on the Tulls' porch, unable to move and barely able to breathe. For a moment he felt a tight fist close around his chest at the vividness of the memory.

"The cleric said you needed to rest," Bredan said.

Karras paused in his excavation and wiped his brow. His hand left a smear across his forehead. "I'm fine, Bredan. Really. It was just bad luck, is all. But I'm here, and I'm all right. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Now come on, I've almost got it, but it's pretty well buried."

"What is it?" Bredan asked as he came forward, curious despite himself. He'd been in this room thousands of times, but he'd never been aware of anything buried in the back corner, away from the last of the racks that lined the length of the room.

"Your legacy," Karras said. "Here, I'll hold this up... just reach down in there and grab the end of the box."

Bredan tensed as his uncle levered up a fallen beam, causing the whole mound of rubble to creak menacingly. But he knelt in the debris and reached into the dark space underneath the collapse. His hands immediately closed on something just below ground level; it must have been buried under the floor when the place was intact. It was blocky and heavy, but Bredan's muscles had been built up from all the work in the forge and in the many sparring sessions besides. He had to plant his foot carefully where it wouldn't strain the already precarious pile of debris and drag the object slowly clear with brute strength. It was a wooden box, long and low. Once Bredan had pulled it out of its niche, Karras let the beam fall, and the two smiths staggered clear with their prize as the rubble of the fallen wall shifted back into place.

The box was covered in soot, and at first Bredan thought it had been wrecked by the fire, but as he ran a hand over its lid, he realized it was solid and almost completely intact. His fingers encountered a pattern etched into the lid, and he wiped the ashes clear to reveal an abstract sigil he did not recognize.

"What is this?" he asked.

His uncle wiped his hands on his coat, and for a moment looked uncertain. "As I said, it's your legacy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it sooner. I made a promise, a promise that I would keep it for you until you were ready."

Bredan's eyes flashed back to the box. "What's inside?" he asked, his throat suddenly dry in a way that had nothing to do with the ash and smoke in the air.

"Open it."

Bredan had already noticed that the box was unusual, but only when he started looking for the hasp did he notice that it lacked either a locking mechanism or hinges. The ashes had highlighted the seam around the top, confirming that it was not just a solid hunk of wood, but there was no indication of how it was opened. Bredan had his dagger, but was reluctant to pry open the box given that he still didn't know what was inside. He shot a questioning look at his uncle.

"It will open for you," Karras said.

With that mysterious comment hanging in the air Bredan reached down and ran his fingers along the lid of the box. He was going to try and pull the lid up, but didn't get a chance. He felt _something_ , a faint tingling that passed up his fingers, then the box sprang open of its own accord.

Once it was open he could see the clever construction, the recessed interior hinges and swinging metal arms that supported the lid. The box was lined with soft felt and was free of even a speck of soot. Somehow it had survived the fire and being crushed without any effect upon its contents.

Those contents were spread across the full length of the container. Bredan reached down for what he first thought was a folded blanket until he felt the familiar strength of steel. As he grabbed hold of the material and pulled it free, he saw that it was a hauberk of fine mesh chainmail, a full suit that had be worth hundreds of gold pieces. The Karras smithy hadn't done much work with armor—there was a specialist in town who handled that and weapons—but Bredan knew enough to know that what he was holding was exceptional quality.

There was more in the box, matching greaves and other accessories to the armor, but moving the suit had revealed something else that caught his attention. Careful to place the armor down on the edge of the box so as to avoid fouling it in the charred muck of the room, he drew out the sword.

It was in a scabbard of black leather trimmed with red, attached to a baldric so it could be worn slung across the back. The size of it explained the bulk of the box; it filled the entire length of the container, tilted so the point and the pommel fit neatly into opposing corners. It was a true greatsword, the blade alone nearly five feet long.

Bredan held his breath and slid the sword from the scabbard. He did not know how long the weapon had been kept hidden here, but the blade was pristine, without even a speck of rust or any other blemish to mar its length. It felt surprisingly light for its size, but Bredan knew that was deceptive; after a few swings it would start to bear down in its wielder's grip. It was both similar to the wooden practice sword he'd trained with and entirely different at the same time.

"You'll have to tend it, and the armor too," Karras said. Bredan started; for a moment he'd almost forgotten that his uncle was there. "I should be able to dig up some metal oil and whetstones, and some scouring sand. The leather wrap on the hilt will need to be replaced regularly too."

"I know, uncle," Bredan said. "You taught me well." He hesitated a moment. "Whose sword was this?" he asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.

Karras's eyes held confirmation even before he spoke. "These things belonged to your father."

Bredan lowered the sword to rest across his lap. "Am I ready?" he asked.

His uncle nodded. "I've taught you all that I know. Just remember that the world out there is dangerous, and not all of those dangers will come at you when you're expecting them."

Bredan nodded. He put down the box and looked at his new possessions.

"You don't have to do this, you know," his uncle said.

"I know. But it's time."

"All right. Well, let me help you with this. It'll take some getting used to." He laughed. "I guess I should have trained you more in carrying this kind of gear."

"Carrying heavy objects has definitely been a part of my training."

"I suppose." Karras picked up the armor. "I'll take you through the steps one by one, so you'll know how to do it yourself, out there. It goes a lot faster with someone to help."

"Thank you, uncle." _For everything_ , he wanted to add, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

The elder Karras clasped him on the arm; maybe the words weren't necessary. As he carefully unfolded the armor he said, "Oh, I almost forgot, when we're done here I have something else for you."

"This... all this is more than enough."

"Yes, but I wasn't the only one... well, you'll see. Now pay attention while I show you how you put this on properly."

* * * * *

Chapter 6

When Bredan emerged from the wrecked smithy, the first thing he saw was Glori. The half-elf woman was standing next to the raised porch of the leatherworker's shop across the way, chatting with Kesren Tull. It looked like she was showing him her lyre, the silver flashing even in the weak glow of the overcast morning.

He hesitated for a moment, but she must have somehow sensed his presence, for she turned around and looked his way. When she saw him, her face erupted into a broad smile that made the glint from her instrument seem pale by contrast. He suddenly felt self-conscious but trudged over to meet them. The chainmail was heavy, but the weight was well distributed. He had no doubt that it and the sword slung across his back would leave his muscles sore after a day carrying them.

"Young Master Karras, you look quite... different," Tull said.

"I guess I look pretty silly," Bredan said.

"You look like a warrior," Glori said. He looked askance at her, but there seemed to be no teasing in her tone or manner. "Is that your father's gear?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I didn't. It just seems... right."

"A moment, a moment before you go," Tull said. The gnome ran inside, shouting after them to wait.

Glori looked down at what he was carrying. "What's that?"

"A shovel. And an iron pot."

"I can see that. What are you doing with them?"

"Ah... some of our neighbors came over with gifts this morning, apparently."

"That was nice of them. But why do _you_ have them? Wouldn't your uncle..."

"The gifts were for me. It seems that _someone_ spread the word about what we were planning."

Glori's look was pure innocence. "Hmm. Okay, I can see where a pot would come in handy. But... a _shovel_?"

"Hey there was a suit of clothes, too. And a purse. They took up a collection. Ten golds! Can you believe it? It appears that I'm some sort of folk hero now, just because I'm apparently dumb enough to go treasure-hunting in the bloody Dry Hills. Don't laugh."

With an obvious effort Glori's expression turned serious again. "No, really, it's nice. And now that I think on it, I think it was General Laxom who wrote that half of an army's work was digging, and that a shovel was just as important as a sword to bring to war."

"You're making that up."

"I never lie when it comes to history."

Bredan gave her a dubious look that turned evaluative as he took in the details of her attire. Her outfit was stylish but definitely practical, with sleek trousers tucked into knee-high boots and a vest of rigid leather covering her from throat to hips. Over that she wore both a thick coat and a warm-looking cloak that was currently pulled back to give her arms full range of motion. In addition to her lyre and dagger she carried a compact hunting bow and a quiver of arrows that hung from her hip opposite the instrument.

Glori noticed his scrutiny and did a small hip-twist to show off. "How is your uncle doing?" she asked.

"He'll be okay," Bredan said. "It's hard for him." He waved his hand vaguely behind him in the direction of the wrecked smithy, unwilling even to look at it again.

"Yeah," Glori said, understanding what he meant.

"Here, here," Kesren said as he returned. He was carrying a pair of leather packs, one thin and compact, the second square and bulky. Both were covered with decorative scrollwork that showed trees and other plants in the case of the smaller one, and a martial theme of crossed swords and shields for the bigger. Kesren grinned as he held them out to Glori and Bredan.

"Please, accept these humble gifts," the gnome said.

Bredan hid his reflexive groan. "Oh, Master Tull, we couldn't..." he began, but the craftsman quickly shushed him. "You must honor me by taking them. Please, you and your uncle have helped me many times, and Miss Leliades, there have been more than a few customers who said that you sent their custom my way. And besides, as my dear late father used to say, every adventurer must have a good backpack! And comfortable shoes. A good backpack, and shoes."

"Here, I can hold your shovel," Glori said. Bredan shot her a look but handed it over and took the big pack. He wondered how he was going to manage both the pack and the sword. As if reading his mind, the gnome started adjusting the straps for him. "I gave you this one because of your great strength, from the forge. You can fill it with all of the many treasures you will find in your adventures."

"I don't know about all that, Master Tull," Bredan said.

"Nonsense," Kesren said. "I am certain that you will become quite famous, both of you."

"Well, that would be something," Bredan said. He looked over to Glori for help, but the bard had already put on her pack and was smiling at him as the gnome helped him make sure his sword was clear and the pack was in place. For the moment they put the iron pot and his tools inside the pack, which looked like it could fit the gnome and a few of his companions inside comfortably. Bredan had to kneel so Kesren could get at the straps, and when he got back up he definitely felt it in his knees.

"Thank you, Master Tull," Glori said when they were ready. "You do us honor with your gifts, and we will put them to good use." With a subtle bow she thrust the shovel back into Bredan's hand, took him by the elbow, and led him down the street.

"So what was that all about?" Bredan asked.

"It was a nice gesture, I thought," Glori said.

"No, I mean, how did he know that we were going adventuring?"

Glori looked over at him. "Well, you don't exactly look like you're heading off to fix the hinges on some farmer's barn door."

"Glori..."

"You made him feel good, that he was helping. Him and the others. You and your uncle have made a lot of friends here. You should be grateful."

"I'm not used to being treated like some kind of hero."

"Sir Bredan, master of the blade, lord of the martial dance. Wielder of the mighty shovel of destiny."

Bredan hefted the shovel in mock threat. "Once we're in town I'm going to find someone to take this back to my uncle."

"We're not going through town."

He blinked at that. "Where are we going?"

"I thought you said you knew Starfinder?"

"I said I'd _heard_ of her, like everybody in Crosspath. I've never been to her house, or tower, or... whatever."

"It's a perfectly normal house, and I know exactly where it is. Just outside of town off the south road."

"I didn't know you and this wizard were old pals," Bredan said.

In response Glori just rolled her eyes at him.

They continued on in companionable silence for a while. Glori took them on a route that bypassed the center of town and led them instead through the outskirts to the southern trade road. Bredan found that he was actually glad for that; while he normally was happy to talk with the other townsfolk, he wasn't in the mood for their questions or condolences over what had happened to the smithy. The few people they spotted gave them curious looks but didn't stop to chat.

The houses and shops had started to thin around them when Bredan finally spoke again. "So I take it you didn't find anybody else to join us for this crazy quest?"

"Not directly, but I heard that the monastery is sending someone."

"The monastery?"

"That's what I said. And before you ask, I don't know who it is yet."

"How did you find out that they're sending someone?"

She grinned and shot him an amused look. "I have spies everywhere." After a few more steps she asked, "Worried about reducing your share of the reward?"

"No. Like I said before, the more people the better, and I suspect a cleric would come in real handy in the Dry Hills."

"What's bothering you, then?"

"I don't know. I just... I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing, leaving like this."

"It'll just be a couple of days. A week at most. And then you'll have a pile of gold, and you can rebuild the smithy and buy a bunch of those big hammers you smiths use to beat on metal all day."

"I think you have a somewhat simple view of my profession," Bredan said.

"Could be," she said lightly. "But look, we're here."

Bredan blinked in surprise. The wizard's house was not what he had been expecting. The place was just a small cottage, nestled against a hill that rose up steeply behind it. The exterior was immaculate, with fresh paint on the window frames and door and a path of round stones that wound through a neatly-kept garden bounded by a whitewashed picket fence. The roof was tile rather than thatch, but otherwise this might have been the dwelling of a middling farmer rather than a renowned practitioner of the arcane arts.

Glori apparently was not surprised at all; she had already opened the gate in the fence and gestured for him to hurry up. Bredan swallowed the sudden nervousness that had begun to stir his insides and followed her to the door.

There was a small bell-rope next to the entry, but they didn't need to use it; the door swung silently open at their approach. Again, Glori didn't seem to find anything unusual about that, and Bredan had no choice but to follow her inside. It took him a moment to navigate the narrow doorway with his various burdens, but after a few moments he was able to get inside without breaking anything.

The sight that greeted them took him aback. The interior was as neat as the outside, the décor plush and decorative without being overwhelming. There was an assortment of chairs and couches, a number of bookshelves populated by thick volumes and assorted knickknacks, and a couple of rugs that looked thick enough to sleep on. But it was the _size_ of the room that alarmed Bredan; he didn't need a measuring line to know that its dimensions were significantly greater than the exterior walls.

"Magic," he breathed.

Glori elbowed him. "Don't be silly. It's just built into the hillside is all."

Bredan flushed as he realized she was right. But as he gave the room a second look he belatedly realized something else; they were not alone.

The two men had been standing on the far side of the room, partially obscured behind the mass of a stone hearth that looked large enough to roast an entire pig, if not a small cow. As Glori and Bredan entered the pair turned to face them. Bredan felt his hands twitch and he had to resist an urge to adjust his sword; the strangers hardly looked friendly.

One was a half-orc, and he had both the size and ferocious appearance typical of his race. He was clad in a suit of iron scales that Bredan reflexively identified of being of quality make, and carried both a flanged mace and a round shield banded in iron slung across his back. He watched them intently but without apparent hostility.

His companion, however, was surly in both his demeanor and expression. He was a dwarf, though oddly enough he lacked a beard. Unlike his friend he didn't wear armor, just a loose-fitting linen garment that was fastened with ties at his legs, wrists, and throat. He wore leather bracers that were looped through with what looked like narrow strips of metal, and he carried a quarterstaff sized to his height with iron ferrules crimped at each end.

Bredan started to reach for Glori to move her behind him, but again he was too late. "Hey there!" she said, skipping forward to greet the pair. She extended a hand to the half-orc, and once he enveloped it in his thick fist gave a firm shake. "I'm Glori, that's Bredan. You guys here for the job? I mean, the wizard's mission?"

The dwarf scowled, but the half-orc said, "Um... yes?"

"Oh, you're a priest of Hosrenu?" Glori asked.

The half-orc's gaze dropped reflexively to the icon he wore on a long throng around his neck. Bredan stepped forward, curious despite himself. He had not encountered many clerics of the god of knowledge, and the last thing he would have expected was for this uncommon stranger to be one of them.

The half-orc fidgeted and looked nervous, which oddly made Bredan feel more confident. The dwarf had folded his arms across his chest and looked impatient. Now that they were closer Bredan could see that what he'd first taken for metal strips inserted into his bracers were in fact slender knives. That realization did not reassure him.

Glori just kept looking back and forth between the half-orc and the dwarf with an expectant look on her face until the former cleared his throat and said, "Sorry, I'm being rude, aren't I? My name is Quellan Emberlane, and my companion is Kosk Stonefist. We're from the monastery here in town."

"Oh, of course," Glori said. "I've only been out there a few times, but it seems like a very peaceful place."

"You looking to dig a hole, boy?"

Bredan blinked at the dwarf's question, then realized he was still holding the shovel. He flushed and looked around for someplace to leave it, but at that moment a door in the back of the room opened and someone new came into the room.

This time Bredan wasn't the only one to do a double-take. The figure that came in was... well, _huge_ didn't seem sufficient to describe him. He had to bend low to clear the top of the doorway, and when he rose to his full height his head nearly scraped the ceiling. Even Quellan would have only come up to his chin or so, and from what Bredan could make out under the flowing robe he wore he had muscles to match. His features looked human for the most part, though there was a slightly olive tint to his skin that was unusual, and his brow was just a bit too prominent to be typical. His eyes were dark orbs sunk deep under that protruding shelf that fixed on each of the four guests in turn.

"The Lady will see you now," he said in a voice that sounded like stones being crushed into gravel.

* * * * *

Chapter 7

The giant stepped back to let the others pass. Bredan was the last, and once he was through the door the big man fell in behind him. The young smith had never felt small before, but this fellow's hands looked big enough to enfold Bredan's skull like it was a child's ball. His neck itched with the thought, and he wished he was carrying the sword rather than the shovel. The giant wasn't carrying any obvious weapons, but Bredan imagined that it wouldn't take much effort for him to snap bones with those huge mitts.

He had to make an effort of will to turn his attention to the room ahead. They walked through a short hall and passed a few other doors before they entered a small study. They had to be deep in the heart of the hill now, and despite Glori's earlier reassurance Bredan still felt a bit of awe at the effort that had gone into the construction of this place. That thought that magic might have been involved made his skin tingle.

Other than the lack of windows the room was otherwise ordinary, comfortably designed with wooden panels covering the walls and more thick carpets spread out over the plain stone floor. In addition to another two doors, there was a narrow hallway that led out of the room at an angle that kept him from seeing very far in that direction. A pair of bright lamps filled the room with light. There were more shelves that contained further books and knickknacks, but here the latter tended more to the uncommon and strange. Bredan found himself staring at a glass jar that contained an entire creature immersed in a dark liquid. The thing looked like some odd combination of a housecat and a miniature person.

He was so immersed in the weird thing that he was the last to notice when the wizard came in. She was an elf, which made her age difficult to guess at first glance. Her hair was flowing silver that came to her shoulders. She was dressed in a long robe of pale silk that whisked over the stone floor with each step she took. Her manner was brisk but not unfriendly, and she shook their hands when she introduced herself to each of them in turn.

"Telene Starfinder," she said when she came to Bredan.

"Bredan Karras." Her hand was as small in his as Glori's had been in Quellan's earlier, but she squeezed firmly and lifted her eyes to meet his. "You are the smith's boy?" she asked, still holding his hand.

"Um... yes?" Bredan said.

"Interesting," she said. Her lips twisted slightly before she released him and gestured them toward the slender chairs that ringed the room. Bredan looked at his dubiously, but when Quellan was able to settle into one without it shattering he took his seat.

"Thank you, Mog," the wizard said. Bredan realized he'd forgotten the giant attendant, who bent low and exited through another door without a word.

"Would you like anything?" Starfinder asked as she crossed to the last chair, a plushly-padded seat next to a desk that was conspicuously clear of the clutter that occupied the rest of the room. "Tea, perhaps?"

"I think we'd like to get to the business at hand," Kosk said. Bredan looked over and saw that while the dwarf had gone over to his chair he hadn't sat down. He looked sort of like the way that his uncle did when they were about to start sparring. He'd folded his arms across his chest but he hadn't relaxed; he looked to Bredan like the tensile energy stored in a coiled spring.

Bredan's throat suddenly felt dry. "Um... if I could maybe have a glass of water?" he asked.

"Certainly," Starfinder said. But instead of getting back up or summoning her giant she merely crooked a hand, as if gesturing someone closer. Bredan looked at the others and was about to get up to serve himself—though he didn't see where the beverages were located—when a tray drifted into the room.

Here was magic, and no denying it—the tray was floating across the room unsupported, at about the level it would be if a man was holding it. It held a pitcher of water and several glass cups. Bredan shot a look over at Glori, but his friend was just grinning in appreciation.

"Cool, an unseen servant," she said. "Majerion knew that spell."

Bredan tried to appear unconcerned as the tray drifted to a stop in front of him. He hesitated again, unsure if he was supposed to pour a glass for himself, but then the pitcher lifted into the air and filled one of the cups. He waited a moment longer then finally took the glass. The water was cool and he gulped it all down before putting the glass back on the tray. "Thanks," he said, relieved when the tray drifted back across the room. Quellan and Glori accepted water, but Kosk merely watched stone-faced until the tray had disappeared back to where it had come from.

"To business, then," Starfinder said. "Have any of you heard of the Eth'barat?"

Bredan looked over at Glori, who seemed to know every story that was out there, but her face was blank. The half-orc likewise showed no recognition, but then the dwarf said, "They were some kind of magic cult in the last days of the Empire. Or so I heard."

"Of a sort," Starfinder said. "The Eth'barat did arise in the closing days of the Mai'i, when they had passed their zenith but before the signs of decay had become obvious. But their leaders were students of history as well as of magic, so they recognized the pattern before it had become obvious to all. The name means, 'Keepers of the Flame' in the Old Speech. They sought to preserve some of the lore that had been accumulated in the seven centuries of the Empire, the secrets of power that had been achieved when they were still in their early years of vitality and scholarship. They began preparing caches where they could secure some of that legacy, hidden sites well-protected by traps and guardians."

"But the Eth'barat could not have anticipated just how swiftly the final collapse would come. They had only just begun their great work when Emperor Tivolus came to the Sapphire Throne. And of course, the story of what came next is well-known. The Eth'barat were swept away on the same flood of history that consumed the Empire."

"What is it you want us to find?" Glori asked. "A horde of magical artifacts? A book of ancient spells?"

"A gemstone," Starfinder said. "A slightly-irregular crystal sphere, roughly the size of two fists pressed together. The Stone of the Eth'barat."

"What's this stone do?" Kosk asked.

"It is an aid to divination magic," the wizard replied.

"What, you mean like a crystal ball?" Glori asked.

"Something like that," Starfinder said. "But more of a guide to the flows of magic within our world, and the worlds beyond."

"Is it dangerous?" Quellan asked.

"No more so than any other magic."

"That's not a no," Kosk pointed out.

"The Stone should be safe enough to handle, but I will provide you with a container that will give you an added layer of security, and make the Stone almost undetectable from scrying or other detection until you return it here."

"That suggests there are other folks out there looking for it," Kosk said.

"I know I am not the only scholar interested in the Eth'barat or their lore," Starfinder acknowledged. "But while the Stone is useful, it is not really the sort of thing that draws the attention of rulers or the powerful. It is not a weapon, I assure you."

Bredan raised his hand. "Um... could we go back to 'traps and guardians'? Are you saying the place you're sending us is still protected by defenses that are centuries old?"

"Yes," the wizard said. "The Eth'barat worked in secret, but they knew that they could not rely solely upon that to protect their caches. So they relied upon magical defenses that would, if necessary, far outlast them."

"And there is one such cache in the Dry Hills?" Quellan asked.

"Yes," Starfinder said.

"I guess they weren't as good at keeping secrets as they thought," Kosk said. "If you could track it down after all this time."

"I have spent decades tracing the Eth'barat," the wizard replied. "I have traveled from the ruins of Carpathian to the buried city of Om Malask. I have explored Sesrek Nul, and stood upon the stones of the Way of Wise Kings."

"I thought Sesrek Nul was underwater now," Quellan said.

"It is," Starfinder said, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Back to the Dry Hills," Kosk said. "I assume you have more specific information for us to go on?"

"Indeed." Starfinder turned to her desk and touched one of the drawers. When her fingertip brushed the handle there was a subtle flash, gone so fast that Bredan thought he might have imagined it. She pulled it open and took out a rolled scroll that she handed to Glori. "This is a map of the area, along with a description of the Stone that should be sufficient for you to recognize it on sight. I would certainly expect it to be hidden, perhaps magically masked or concealed in some manner. There are also some notes on two other Eth'barat sites that were previously explored by other teams of adventurers like yourselves. The defenses seem to be different for each cache, but you may find some clues there on what to watch out for."

Glori opened the outer scroll. Putting the page of notes carefully aside, she examined the map. The men leaned over to take a look.

Bredan had seen maps before, but this one entranced him. It was exceptionally detailed, with clever drawings of hills and forests that made him feel almost as though he was looking down on an actual landscape from above. The map showed Crosspath and the surrounding trade roads, but most of it covered a span that included not only the Dry Hills but the barren lands beyond that extended all the way to the Silent Woods and the lands controlled by the wild elves.

Glori, in her practical way, had focused on the marker that presumably indicated their destination. "I think I recognize this region. That's the area that they call the Godstones, isn't it?"

"Yes," Starfinder said. "The shrine of the Eth'barat is built into one of the bluffs. It's rather off the beaten path, far from the ruins frequented by treasure hunters and the like."

"That means there might be more natural hazards present," Quellan pointed out.

"I understand the danger, that is why I have not made the journey myself, and why I am willing to pay what I am offering."

"Speaking of, um, payment," Bredan ventured. "That's an equal four-way split?"

"I leave that up to you, of course," Starfinder said.

"We are here to repay a debt owed to you by Abbess Laurine," Quellan said.

Glori perked up at that. "Oh, so you're not claiming a share?"

"Any share owed to us goes to the monastery," Kosk quickly interjected. "But looking from this," he said, indicating the map, "It's at least a few days out, and that much back. We could probably use an advance to purchase supplies."

"A not unreasonable request," Starfinder said. She reached into another drawer of the desk, one that Bredan noticed didn't spark at her touch, and took out a small leather purse that she handed over to Glori. The bard jingled it in her hand and grinned. "You guys trust me to be banker?"

Kosk frowned, but Quellan said, "Of course."

"There are fifty gold pieces in that purse. The rest will be paid upon return, as stipulated in the offer," Starfinder said.

"Half if we make it there but don't find anything, right?" Glori asked.

"Of course," Starfinder repeated. The way she said it, and the way she looked at each of them in turn, it didn't sound that stupid to Bredan after all.

* * * * *

Chapter 8

The bell attached to the top of the door announced their arrival with a tinny jingle. The shopkeeper emerged from the back room with a pile of winter coats tucked under his arm. He broke into a smile as he recognized Bredan and Glori, though that grin faltered a bit as Quellan and Kosk followed them through the door.

"Ah, Bredan, Glori, it's good to see you. And your... friends?"

"Hi, Tellar," Glori said. "This is Quellan and Kosk, they're part of our group."

"Come to purchase supplies for your expedition into the Dry Hills?" the shopkeeper asked.

"Does the whole bloody town know where we're going?" Kosk growled under his breath. They had already had several encounters with Glori's friends on the way over to the general store, and most of them had paused to offer them luck and safety on their expedition.

Glori elbowed him and muttered back, "When you have friends, they express an interest in your life. I don't imagine you would understand." To Tellar she said in a normal tone, "We need to be fully kitted out, and we've got hard money." She jingled the purse that Starfinder had given them in a way that had the dwarf rumbling again, something about "easy marks."

"Well, you know you've come to the right place," Tellar said. "We haven't had many adventurers come through Crosspath of late, but I still remember how to put together an explorer's pack..."

"Just rations, and maybe some rope," Kosk interrupted. "Can never have enough rope."

Glori turned to face the dwarf. "Look, I've done more than my share of traveling," she said. "I know what you need on the road."

"And I've seen more than my share of would-be adventurers fill their packs with junk that ended up dead weight, often literally," Kosk shot back.

Bredan left the brewing argument behind him as he wandered deeper into the shop. The store carried a wide range of common goods, arranged onto aisles of shelving that placed key items on display. He was thinking about the purse that the elf wizard had so carelessly handed them. Fifty gold pieces, more money than he'd ever seen in his life. And that was only half of what his share of the reward would be if they completed Starfinder's errand and found her magic stone.

Fifty gold pieces was two months' work for a smith. A real smith, like his uncle, not an apprentice like himself. His uncle paid him two silvers a day, a decent wage, and one that had allowed him to spend an occasional evening at the Tusk or another of the local taverns and still put away some coins into his savings. But this was something else entirely. He'd known that rebuilding the Karras smithy would be expensive. A good set of smith's tools could run twenty golds or more, let alone the cost of lumber and glass and cloth and chemicals and all the rest that would be needed to rebuild the business. At least they could pull nails and make hinges and other fittings themselves, once they got the forge running again.

But the thought of the money was just a distraction from what was really bothering him. That reality was driven home when he came to the end of the aisle and saw a glass-fronted display case in front of him that was securely locked. Inside, arranged on the top shelf as if directed at him, was a small crossbow. The sight of it was a vivid reminder that they weren't going on some casual stroll. The Dry Hills were not a safe place, and it was quite likely that they would encounter someone or something who wanted to kill them. That was leaving aside the apparently homicidal intensity with which these long-dead sorcerers whose property they were seeking protected their secrets.

"You should buy that."

The unexpected voice startled Bredan, and he almost jumped. He turned to see Quellan watching him with an apologetic expression. The half-orc was quiet for a man his size, or maybe Bredan had just let his attention wander too much from his surroundings. His uncle said he did that, sometimes. It was a habit he would have to lose, and quickly.

Bredan leaned over and looked at the small tag attached to the bow. "Ah, it's way more than I can afford," he said.

"Still, I expect it might come in handy to have a ranged weapon on this trip. You do know how to use one?"

Bredan remembered the lessons his uncle had drilled into him, the wide range of weapons—both real and mock—that he'd trained on. "Yeah, I know how to use it."

"Well then. I have some extra gold. I will buy it, and you can repay me out of your share of the reward."

Bredan hesitated for a moment, but the cleric's suggestion made good sense, and finally he nodded. "Okay, sure, thanks."

By the time they finished making all their purchases and exited the shop the sun was almost touching the uneven line of hills to the west. They'd already agreed to spend the night in Crosspath and get an early start the next day. With his pack bulging and his new crossbow perched awkwardly atop it Bredan figured he would need some time to get everything balanced. Glori suggested a stop at one of the local taverns to drink a toast to a successful mission, but the cleric and monk both demurred. But before parting ways, Quellan called them over into the shadow of the shop.

"In case I forget tomorrow... I have something for each of you."

He produced from his pouch a small box that he opened to reveal four tiny vials enfolded in cotton padding. He handed one to each of them. The vials contained a clear blue liquid that seemed to sparkle in the fading light of the day.

"What's this?" Bredan asked.

"Healing potions," Quellan explained. "A gift from the Abbess. I thought we should each take one... just in case."

"A generous gift," Glori said. "Thank you."

Kosk accepted his potion without comment and tucked it into a pocket of his robe. Bredan held onto his for a moment longer. His brain couldn't help but generate scenarios where the contents of the vials might be needed—and others where they wouldn't be enough. He flinched when Glori poked him in the arm and nearly dropped his potion. "Isn't this exciting?" she asked.

* * * * *

Chapter 9

Bredan hurt.

His arms hurt. His legs and feet hurt, the exact location of the pain shifting from one moment to the next regardless of how he adjusted himself. His back and neck hurt, especially since it had taken him some time to figure out how to arrange his varied burdens so that the straps didn't strain his muscles. Even his butt hurt, which was a bit strange since this was really the first chance he'd had to put it to use since they'd set out that morning. It felt like an eternity ago instead of just one day.

He looked around the camp. Everything seemed to be in order in the light of the fading sun. He had to acknowledge that Kosk had selected a good spot. From above the little valley nestled in between the seemingly endless parade of hills had seemed like a choked and unappealing thicket, but the dwarf been right that they would find water there. It was only a tiny stream, small enough that any of them could step over it without straining. But it had been enough for them to wash up, fill their water bottles, and put together a stew that had tasted like just about the best thing he'd ever eaten. The tangles of dry brush that surrounded them offered at least some protection from both the harsh evening wind and any predators that might stop by during the night, and it kept their fire hidden from casual view.

Bredan winced as he rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks. He had thought he was in good shape from his work in the forge, but it turned out that entirely different muscles were involved when it came to trudging for long hours over difficult terrain while carrying thirty pounds of iron mail, a full pack, and several large and awkwardly-shaped weapons.

It was Kosk who had set the pace, and the dwarf had set a grueling one even considering the fact that his legs were shorter than the rest of theirs. The dwarf was sitting a few feet away, his legs folded under him in a manner that would have been excruciating if Bredan tried it. Kosk didn't make any effort at idle conversation, and the young smith had no problem keeping things that way. No doubt the dwarf was already thinking about how early a start they could get tomorrow morning.

Bredan didn't understand his hurry. They each carried a full ten days of rations, though based on how hungry he'd been before dinner the shopkeeper's estimate of how long the food would last might have been optimistic. Bredan thought he could eat another meal of the same size right then without straining himself. But even if it took a bit longer to find this hidden shrine they should still be fine, as long as they could keep finding water. They could even hunt, maybe. He knew how, though he had to admit that he hadn't seen much in the way of local wildlife during their first day of travel. That might change when they were further away from Crosspath, though.

He looked up as Quellan returned to the ring of stones they'd arranged around the campfire. The half-orc carried Bredan's cookpot and their mess kits, washed clean in the stream. Glori came with him, and Bredan admitted he felt a bit of satisfaction at the way she tried to hide a wince as she settled down onto a vacant stone. At least he wasn't the only one having a bit of trouble with the dwarf's forced march.

"I think we should maybe each tell the others a little something about ourselves," Quellan said when he'd put the pots and mess tins away.

"Ah, exposition!" Glori said.

"What?" the cleric asked.

"You know, background information. Establishing the characters for the listener. It's a common feature in most stories, but you have to be careful not to overdo it; most times the audience wants to get right into the action."

"Um, Glori, this isn't a story," Bredan said.

"Of course it is! It's almost _the_ story... the heroic journey, four flawed but sympathetic heroes from widely different origins come together to confront common danger and deadly threats that must be overcome to gain the reward..."

"Are you saying there is anything you _haven't_ told us about you and your friend today?" Kosk asked. "You haven't shut up for more than five consecutive minutes all day."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with being friendly," Glori said, lifting her chin.

"What I meant," Quellan quickly added, "Is that perhaps we should talk a bit more about our relative capabilities."

"Aye," Kosk said. "The wizard might not have cared if you're any good with those weapons you carry, but I do."

"If you're so concerned, why didn't you ask before we set out?" Bredan returned.

"I think what my friend means..." Quellan began, but Kosk cut him off with a raised hand. "This job's an obligation," the dwarf said. "We'd have gone regardless. But now that you're here, we need to know if we can rely on you. We might come upon a situation where having someone at your back you can rely on might make the difference between life and death."

"I've seen Bredan fight," Glori quickly said. "He's very good."

It was hard to say who looked more doubtful, Bredan or Kosk, but Quellan didn't give either a chance to comment. "All of the clerics at the monastery receive a basic training in fighting, and the use of simple weapons," the half-orc said. "But most of my contribution will come from my connection to Hosrenu. Though the power of the god I can heal wounds and perform other minor magical workings."

"Glori can cast spells too," Bredan said.

When the others all turned to look at her the bard flushed. "It's not me," she said. "It's this." She shifted the lyre around on its strap so that it rested in her lap. "It was a gift from my mentor Majerion, before he... before he left. It's magical."

"What spells can you cast with it?" Quellan asked.

"It can cure wounds, you like said."

"She saved my uncle's life," Bredan said. "It was... remarkable." For a moment the two young adventurers' eyes met, and Glori smiled.

"What else?" Kosk prompted.

"Just some... some minor enchantments. Just tricks, really. The sort of thing that's popular with the tavern crowd." Kosk opened his mouth, but to preempt him she began playing, plucking a soft melody on the strings.

A light shimmered into being above the campfire. It resolved into a tavern scene rendered in miniature. It was silent, and the details were blurry around the edges, but to Bredan it was like looking through a slightly cloudy window. He could almost feel the warmth radiating from the scene, but he knew that if he reached out and touched it his fingers would pass through it like it wasn't there.

"Even a minor glamour can be useful," Quellan said. "I am sure your magic will come in handy, Miss Leliades."

"Just Glori, please," she said, smiling at the comment.

"What about you?" Bredan said suddenly, nodding toward Kosk. "What do you do? You don't wear armor, you don't have any weapons except for that stick and those tiny knives, and all you've done thus far is complain."

"Bredan..." Quellan began, but Kosk interrupted him again with a raised hand. "Fair question," the dwarf said. He got up and began looking around the camp. He paused and picked up a stone that was slightly smaller than the stew pot.

"You're a monk, right?" Glori asked. "I've heard stories. You guys can do physical feats like breaking boards, jumping over buildings, walking on nails... or hot coals, even water..."

"Walking on water?" Bredan asked dubiously.

"Don't get him started on the nature of _ki_ ," Quellan said.

"Chee?" Bredan asked.

"It's a kind of physical magic..." Quellan said.

"Don't bother with the book answer," Kosk said as he picked up another rock. He had a small collection tucked into the crook of his arm now, though he seemed to have no difficulty with the awkward burden. "Most of what you've heard is just fables and exaggerations. Now I won't say there's no such thing as monk-magic. I've seen frail-looking old men who you'd think would be barely be able to climb a flight of steps perform feats that most folks would call impossible. But it's not sorcery. Most of it is just training and discipline. Shaping the body to do what you want it to do. Like the boy and his bulging biceps from his forge." He dumped the rocks down between Bredan and Glori.

"What are these for?" Bredan said.

"You wanted to know what I can do. Pick these up. Throw them at me. Try to hit me, as hard as you can."

"You don't have to..." Glori began, even as Bredan reached for one of the rocks. Quellan sighed and picked up another.

"Better to know who's got your back," Kosk said. He walked over to the far side of the fire and took up a position facing them. "Whenever you're ready. All at once, you don't have to wait. Pretend I'm a slavering ghoul coming to tear your bloody guts out." When none of them moved he barked, "Well? Throw!"

At that Bredan cocked his arm back and hurled his rock will all his considerable strength behind the cast. Kosk barely seemed to move, but somehow the rock slid right past him, missing his head by less than an inch before vanishing into the thicket behind the camp.

"Come on, I said all together," the dwarf said.

Bredan picked up another rock, and after looking at the others for confirmation he threw it, this time aiming for the center of the dwarf's body. All three rocks shot out at him, but the dwarf was already moving. Spinning on one foot, he snapped out the other and deflected Bredan's rock while twisting his body to avoid Quellan's. For a moment it looked as though Glori's rock had just disappeared, but as the monk finished his spin and came back to his starting point they could see him holding it in the crook of his arm.

"Okay, I guess you can watch my back, then," Glori said.

* * * * *

Book 2: STARTING QUEST

Chapter 10

The Dry Hills weren't really that dry, when you got down to it. While there weren't any actual forests or meadows full of blooming flowers, there was plenty of plant life, from the stubble of weeds that filled in the gaps between the boulders on the stony crests to the sere tangles of brush that populated the low points between the rises. Travel through the region would have probably been easier if the place _was_ as stark as its name suggested. They had particular difficulty navigating the gullies thick with thornspike and the prickleburrs that took advantage of every last bit of soil on the steep hillsides.

Occasionally their route led them over a crest that offered an expansive view of the region. There was a certain stark beauty to this place, but Kosk barely paid it any heed. He'd spent enough time in places like this in his past, places close enough to the trappings of civilization to be profitable but isolated enough to provide shelter from the searching eyes of those who protected the civilized folk. It hadn't been that long ago in terms of years, but in terms of who he had been and who he was now, it may as well have been a lifetime.

Kosk wasn't the right bastard he'd been back then, but he allowed himself a certain smug pleasure at pressing the children to a hard pace. He could admit privately that maybe his calves were feeling a bit tight and that the muscles in his back had started to twitch. He would not have been surprised if the tally of his years was higher than that of his three companions put together. But he'd put his body through a lot worse both before and after dedicating himself to the monastic path, and he had no difficulty pushing on through the pain.

Around midday—a lingering low overcast made it difficult to tell exactly—they paused for a break along one of the rocky crests. The boy smith flopped down, exhausted. The girl, to her credit, seemed better off, but then again, she wasn't carrying around a ridiculous weight of armor and unnecessarily large weapons. That sword of his might have looked impressive, but Kosk had taken down men like him with nothing more than a dagger.

A different life, the dwarf reminded himself.

Quellan came over to join him. The half-orc didn't seem winded, but then again Kosk knew he was the sort who wouldn't complain even if he had an arm hanging by just a few sinews. They stood there together in companionable silence while the dwarf checked the map. They'd agreed Kosk would carry it since he had the most experience with wilderness travel. He didn't really need to take a look, as he also had a good memory and they were still a good day at least from the general region where they would find their destination, but it was something to do while he waited for his friend to say his piece.

"You're pushing them rather hard," Quellan said finally.

"So? If they can't keep up, then they should open their mouths."

"This may startle you to hear it, but you can be a little intimidating sometimes."

Kosk snorted, but after a moment shot their resting companions a quick look before returning to his scrutiny of the landscape spread out in front of them. In a softer voice he said, "You know that the two of them won't last two seconds if we run into something real bad out here. You do know that?"

"I think they might surprise you," Quellan replied.

Kosk happened to glance over at that moment, so he saw the way the cleric's eyes flicked over at the others as he turned to leave. Saw the way they lingered in one spot in particular.

"Oh, lad, you're asking for trouble," the dwarf muttered under his breath.

The terrain grew even more rugged as the day went on, and their pace slowed regardless of Kosk's efforts. The hills grew steeper, forcing them to go around rather than over them, though that hardly made the journey easier. At one point they made their way into a ravine that offered no way out, forcing them to backtrack and lose a full hour's progress. They found just enough sources of water to keep their bottles full and ease worries of a shortage. Quellan had prepared a spell that would cleanse any impurities out of any standing pools they encountered, but thus far they had found enough flowing streams and springs that they hadn't had to use his magic.

They were moving though a strand of scattered trees interspersed with knots of dry thornspike when Kosk felt a sudden premonition of danger. He'd long since learned to trust his instincts, but as he scanned their surroundings he detected no obvious threats. He'd heard small animals scurrying deeper into the undergrowth at their approach and they'd startled the occasional cluster of small birds into flight over the course of the day, but this felt different.

He glanced back at the others. They'd gotten a bit strung out, though Quellan was only about fifteen paces back and the girl, bringing up the rear, was maybe twice that. In between them the boy smith was trudging with his head lowered, apparently completely oblivious to his surroundings. Kosk had to bite back a curse.

Quellan looked up and obviously saw something on his friend's face, for he reached for his mace. "What..." he began.

He didn't get a chance to finish his question before an arrow shot out from the trees. It narrowly missed the cleric and shattered against a rock a bit further down the slope.

_That_ got the smith's attention, as his head shot up and his eyes grew wide. "Ambush!" he yelled.

_No shit,_ Kosk thought as he dove for cover.

* * * * *

Chapter 11

As soon as Bredan realized they were under attack, he shouted a warning to his companions and reached for his sword. He didn't panic, but as he tried to unfasten his baldric and swing the weapon around it got caught up in the straps of his pack. He tried to swing the pack off, but that got caught too as the crossbow attached to the back became tangled in his coat.

Cursing, he looked up and realized two things: first that the unseen archer still hadn't revealed himself, and second that he was the only one still standing out in the open.

Kosk might have laughed as he watched the smith's idiotic antics, except for the fact that the boy was about to get himself killed. Whoever had shot at Quellan had not revealed himself, but there could easily be a dozen enemies hidden among the trees that flanked their route. The dwarf was well-protected behind a protruding stone, while Quellan had likewise found good cover a bit further down the slope. But he heard a clatter of rocks from further back and knew that the girl was probably about to do something stupid to save her idiot friend, like charge blindly into the ambush. That might be why they hadn't shot the boy yet, and were waiting for someone to come to his aid.

Growling, the dwarf grabbed hold of his quarterstaff and leapt over the rock, poised to charge into the trees.

But he didn't get a chance to cover more than a few steps when a loud voice cried, "Hold! We mean you no harm!"

_Then why'd you shoot a bloody arrow at us?_ Kosk almost shouted back, but instead he said, "Show yourself!"

A figure appeared from the cover of the trees. The muscles in Kosk's arms twitched when he saw that it was an elf. He carried a bow that he held over his head in one hand, the other held out to show it was empty. There were a few subtle motions behind him to suggest he wasn't alone.

"I apologize for the attack," the elf said. "I am Calevas, eldritch knight of the Order of the Il'duir. We are from the Silent Wood, and we are here tracking a party of orcs." He gestured toward Quellan as if to explain the nature of the mistake.

The cleric rose slowly up out of cover. "No harm was done," he said. "We haven't come upon any sign of such a party, though we have only been in the hills for a day and a half."

"You are a priest?" the elf asked, nodding toward Quellan's holy symbol.

"I serve the god of knowledge," Quellan said. "We're from Crosspath, heading toward the Godstones."

"You got some friends back there?" Kosk asked. He knew Quellan would chatter all day if given the chance, and he still wasn't all that sure whether the elf was just trying to draw them out to give his friends a better shot. He glanced back and saw that the smith had finally managed to get his sword out, though he was smart enough to keep it in its scabbard. The girl was standing at his shoulder, her own bow at the ready with an arrow at the string but pointed at the ground.

Calevas slowly raised his free hand and four more elves emerged from the trees. Kosk recognized them as wood elves, dressed for the hunt in swirls of pale colors that blended with the landscape. They looked rather wild, with streaks of pigments darkening their faces and bits of foliage woven into their hair. That was one reason why humans sometimes called the residents of the Silent Wood "wild elves," in contrast to the southern elves of Tal Nadesh or the Spiralspire. That was just like humans, to judge everyone against their own standards of what they thought civilization should be like. Kosk thought he could pick out the one who'd made the shot; he stood a bit back from the others and didn't quite meet their eyes.

"The Silent Wood's a long way away," Quellan said. "You have been tracking these orcs for a long time?"

"Since they entered the forest a week ago," Calevas said. "The ones we chase are just the survivors of that intrusion, numbering perhaps a score. They left more than a hundred of their brethren dead behind them."

"That's not much of a war band," Kosk said. "Sounds like they were either stupid or desperate, to enter the Wood like that."

"They paid for their mistake," the elf said simply.

"I hope that you find them," Quellan said. "Believe me, I know full well that their kind are capable of."

Calevas stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "If you should find them before us, the elves of the Silent Wood will pay a bounty for proof of kills."

"Proof?" Glori asked.

"Usually taking the ears is the easiest way," Kosk said. The girl didn't say anything, but her lips twisted in disgust or disapproval.

"It grows late," Quellan said. "Perhaps you would like to share camp with us?"

The elf leader shook his head. "No. We still have a great deal of terrain to cover. You are certain it is clear to the south?"

"We said we didn't see anything," Kosk said.

"Very well. Safe travels." Without waiting for a response, he turned and vanished back into the trees at a sprint, his companions falling in behind him. The elf that had almost shot Quellan shot them one last look that might have meant anything before he, too, was gone.

"Well now, that was a bit of excitement," Quellan said.

"Do they really cut off ears as trophies?" Glori said.

"If you saw what an orc raiding party could do, you'd be less squeamish," Kosk said.

"The enmity between the elves of the northern woods and the orc tribes of the mountains is a deep one," Quellan said. "We're not in a position to judge them."

"They didn't seem that interested in what we are doing in the Dry Hills," Glori noted.

"I doubt they care," Kosk said. "The wood elves generally prefer to stay in their forests. That they'd come this far south testifies to the grudge they bear."

"Let's just hope we don't run into these orcs," Bredan said. He still looked a bit sheepish from his earlier misadventure.

Kosk shot him a hard look, but finally nodded. "We'd better start looking for someplace secure to bed down for the night. Hopefully them elves will clear the immediate area for us, but you never know what you'll find in a place like this."

"With luck, this encounter will be enough adventure for one day," Quellan said.

As they prepared to resume their march, Glori went over to Quellan and said, "You were pretty mild to that elf who nearly shot you."

"An honest mistake," Quellan said. "I wish I could say it was the first time something like that had ever happened."

"Don't worry, that elf will be in trouble when he gets back home," Kosk said.

"Why?" Glori asked. "Because he almost shot a priest of Hosrenu?"

The dwarf shook his head. "No. Because he missed such an easy shot."

* * * * *

Chapter 12

Bredan looked up through the gap in the trees at the bluff that rose up in front of them. It wasn't the largest of the massive formations that the map and Glori had called the Godstones, but it was still impressive. Bredan could see where the name had come from. It was as if someone had constructed a series of giant stone citadels atop this region of the Dry Hills. The mesas rose up hundreds of feet above the highest of the hills that had given them so much trouble over the last few days.

The one in front of them had a distinctive feature, a cleft in one side that looked like a blow from a colossal giant's axe. According to Starfinder's instructions and the map, that was where they would find the entrance to the ancient shrine.

"I have to give you credit, you got us here," Glori said to Kosk. "Impressive, isn't it?"

The dwarf snorted. "Any idiot can follow a map." But he did not look displeased at the comment.

"The question now is, do we set up camp before making our approach?" Quellan said. "We'll need to wait for morning before attempting the ascent, in any case."

They all looked west, where the late afternoon sun was steadily dropping toward the distant horizon.

"We might as well get closer," Kosk suggested. "Likely to be better shelter along the base of the bluff, and it cuts down on the directions an enemy can approach the camp."

"What if someone else comes looking for the shrine?" Bredan asked.

"Well then, we'll be in a better position to deal with them, no?" the dwarf said.

They made their way back into the forest, which grew thicker around them. From their vantage it had looked as though they still had a good hike ahead to get to the bluff, but the ground began to rise almost immediately. They passed boulders the size of wagons and even a few that were the size of a farmer's cottage, forcing them to circle around. The shadows around them deepened as the day faded and Bredan found himself seeing threats in each of them. He took some solace in the fact that both Glori and Quellan looked equally jumpy. Only Kosk seemed unaffected, trudging up the rise with his usual brisk pace. Bredan tried to ignore the twinges in his legs as the change in slope added fresh strain on already tired muscles. He thought about unlimbering his crossbow, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth it. He hitched up his baldric so that the buckle was in easy reach and hurried after the others.

They were approaching another of the massive rocks when Kosk suddenly stopped and held his hand up in warning. The others tensed and listened. "What is it?" Bredan finally hissed.

"Wood smoke," Kosk said without turning.

Bredan sniffed the air and smelled it, just a hint on the gentle breeze. The trees were thick enough that he couldn't see the source, but it had to be pretty close given how little wind there was.

"All right, let's check it out," Kosk said. Bredan was about to unsling his pack to get the bow when an old woman stepped out from behind the boulder.

"You must be here for the shrine," she said.

They all jumped a bit, even Kosk, though the woman made no hostile moves. She was human and looked to be about sixty. She was dressed in a simple wool robe and appeared to be unarmed, though the oddity of her presence here kept the four adventurers on edge. "Who are you?" Quellan asked. "And what are you doing here?" Kosk added.

"My name is Arras. I am a scholar of ancient lore. Perhaps not unlike whoever sent you here?"

"You seem to know a lot about us," Quellan suggested.

"I only make assumptions based upon the evidence that is in front of me."

"We could be bandits," Kosk said.

"I find it doubtful that a priest of Hosrenu would be in such a company. Or a musician, or a monk of the Open Hand." She gave Bredan a quick look but didn't add a comment; maybe she thought he did look like a bandit, he thought. He had to resist a sudden impulse to straighten his hair.

"So you are interested in the Eth'barat?" Glori asked.

"Of course. I would hardly come all this way out into the middle of nowhere otherwise."

"Are you alone?" Kosk asked her.

"I was," Arras said with a smile. "I have a camp not far from here. It's getting late, and I'll be happy answer all of your questions there."

The others shared a look that clearly said they were all on the same page in terms of trust, but finally Glori shrugged and said under her breath, "Better to know more than less, I suppose." In a more normal voice she said to the old woman, "Lead on!"

Arras's camp was in small dell formed between two ridges of exposed stone that jutted out from the mass of the bluff. They couldn't see the cleft from that vantage, but based on the way that the ground rose up steeply ahead they had to be close.

As if reading their minds, Arras said, "We're close. There's a path that leads up into the cleft. The entrance to the shrine is about halfway up. Watch your step, there."

The smoke they'd smelled earlier rose from a small campfire concealed within a shallow pit. A thin iron frame that could support a pot was erected over it. Other common items were scattered around the camp, including a bedroll and a few extra blankets, an assortment of waterskins, pouches, and sacks, and a line of extra clothes drying between two trees. The secret of how she'd gotten everything out here was explained by the mule that was cropping grass near the back of the dell. The beast gave them a brief look as they came into the camp and then went back to its supper.

"It looks like you've been here for a while," Quellan said.

"A few weeks," Arras said. "Unfortunately, I have been having some difficulty gaining access to the shrine."

"Is there a seal?" Kosk asked as she strode around the camp in a circle, taking in every detail while not turning his back on the old woman.

"No, it's open, but there's a creature guarding the entrance. And the bugbears that went up there a few days ago are another potential problem."

"Wait, creature?" Bredan asked.

"Bugbears?" Glori added.

Quellan held up a hand. "I think you'd better tell us what's going on here."

"Certainly. But first, let me get you a drink. I think I have a little plum wine left in one of the panniers..."

"That's okay, we don't need anything," Quellan said.

"I insist," Arras said. "After all, you haven't told me anything about yourselves yet, or what _you_ are doing here. And if you are in fact a priest of Hosrenu, then you know about the rules of hospitality. Not that there's anything I could do if in fact you proved to be... unpleasant," she said with a notable look at Kosk, "but I would feel better if we went through the formalities."

With that she strode past the dwarf and moved to the back of the camp, past where the mule was tethered to a sheltered niche where several wicker panniers had been carefully arranged under a tarp. She briefly passed out of their view as she bent under the cover and began digging through her supplies.

As soon as she was out of direct line of sight Glori turned to Quellan and Bredan and hissed, "What are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?" Quellan asked.

"Come on... do you really think this old woman could have survived out here alone for weeks?"

Quellan looked at her in confusion. "Well, obviously she did..." but Bredan took her arm and murmured, "What are you saying? That she's some kind of witch or something?"

Glori said, "Look, I know most of the stories I tell are just... well, a lot of them are exaggerated. But others... I mean, you meet a strange old woman in the middle of nowhere, no, right next to some _weird magical shrine_ , and she's insisting on offering us a drink..."

"You're the one who wanted to come here!" Bredan hissed.

"There is no evidence she's anything other than what she says she is," Quellan said.

"Just ask yourself, what chance is it that she's just some old woman who happens to be an expert at survival in a place like the Dry Hills..."

"Maybe she's in league with those bugbears," Bredan whispered.

Quellan let out an exasperated sigh. "We only know about them because _she_ told us about them," he reminded them.

"She's coming back," Kosk warned in a soft voice. He was still over by the campfire, but from the look on his face he'd listened in on their entire conversation.

Arras seemed unperturbed as she returned to the main camp. She was holding a small bottle and a handful of cups. "I'm sorry, I don't have enough cups for everyone, you'll need to share."

"Really, it's okay, we don't need anything," Bredan said. "We're fine."

"You should ask your cleric friend to explain the rules of hospitality," the old woman said as she uncorked the bottle and poured a splash of pale liquid into one of the cups. "Not enough of you young people value the old traditions."

"If we don't value those traditions, why is it so important that we do this?" Glori asked.

"Call me old-fashioned." She held the cup out to Kosk. "Here, master dwarf, drink. I know it's not ale, but..."

Kosk held out the cup and turned it upside down, spilling the liquid on the stones along the edge of the firepit.

"Well now, that's rude," Arras said. "I think..."

She didn't get a chance to finish, as he snapped out a fist and punched her hard in the face.

* * * * *

Chapter 13

The old woman crumpled, and nearly fell into the fire before she rolled over and lay in a limp heap upon the ground.

The dwarf's three companions stood staring for a shocked moment. "What in the hells did you do that for?" Bredan finally blurted.

"She was lying," Kosk said.

Quellan hurried forward and knelt beside the old woman. Blood smeared the lower half of her face and continued to pulse from her nostrils.

"Is she dead?" Glori asked.

"I just knocked her out," Kosk said, but he watched intently while Quellan checked her pulse. "She's alive," the cleric confirmed.

Bredan circled around the fire. "You can't just punch an old woman in the face!"

"You said she might be a witch," Kosk said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but... we don't know that!" Bredan yelled back.

"Um... better keep your voice down," Glori said. She took a wary look around the dell, but the only other witness was the mule, which continued to munch on the grass disinterestedly. "I do have to admit that I wouldn't expect a witch to go down so easily."

"Yes, see!" Bredan said, pointing at her.

"What's done is done," Kosk said.

Bredan threw up his hands. "What's wrong with you?"

At that Kosk turned suddenly and stepped up until he was well within arm's reach of the smith. "Careful, boy," he said.

Bredan tensed but didn't retreat. "Or else what, you'll punch me in the face?" he asked.

A tense moment followed, finally interrupted when the cleric said, "She's coming around."

They all stepped back to give the cleric some room. The old woman groaned and stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open, but her eyes remained vacant for a moment before they focused on Quellan. Then they widened and she sucked in a startled breath.

"Take it easy, stay calm," Quellan said. "It's all right, everything's all right."

She drew back but didn't try to get up. She reached up and touched her face, but the sight of her blood on her fingers didn't cause her to panic. Instead she sent a venomous look around the circle of observers. "You hit me."

"I'm sorry, there was a misunderstanding on our part," Quellan said.

"On mine as well," Arras said. "Maybe that symbol you're wearing doesn't mean what I think. Or maybe blood tells."

Quellan flinched as if he'd hit her, but Kosk stepped forward. "You must admit it's strange, an old woman out here all alone. The Dry Hills are dangerous, and you could have been..."

"A witch? An old hag, like from the stories?" She shot a look at Glori, who looked away, abashed. "Well, I wish I was, then I'd turn the lot of you into bloody slugs."

Kosk, however, wouldn't yield. "You pushed that wine on us rather suspiciously."

She started to get up and the monk shifted slightly, but she only leaned over to where the bottle of wine and the cups had fallen. She filled one of the cups and drank it down in a single gulp. "Satisfied?"

"Look, we're sorry, but as I said, it was a misunderstanding," Quellan said. "Maybe we can all settle down, talk more about what you said earlier, about the bugbears, the guardian..."

"I hope they flay you alive, either one," she said. She got up and walked over to the line of laundry. She took a piece of cloth and soaked it from a nearby waterskin, then used it to rub the blood off her face. "You can do whatever you please, but you get out of my camp, and don't let me see you back here."

"Or else what?" Kosk asked.

She glared at him, but Quellan quickly stepped forward. "We'll leave. But before we go, I'm a cleric, I can heal you..."

"I'm fine," she said. "Get out."

Bredan didn't realize how late it had gotten until they left the camp and the glow of the fire behind them. But there was still enough lingering light for him to stay with the others as they made their way back into the forest. His companions, naturally, had no difficulty, and he envied them their darksight.

"Well, that could have gone better," Glori finally said.

"Think she'll try to kill us in our sleep?" Kosk asked.

"If she does, I'm sure you can beat the shit out of her," Bredan said.

"Look, boy..."

"All right, leave it," Quellan said, again stepping between them. "Just let it be. It's getting dark, and we need to find another place that's safe to rest."

"If she was telling the truth about the guardian and those bugbears, there may not be a safe place anywhere around here," Bredan said.

"Yeah, I don't think I want to run into a bugbear, day or night," Glori said.

"They're just big goblins," Kosk said. "You can wait for us down here if you want."

"Are you calling us cowards?" Bredan asked.

"I'm just saying that..."

Quellan suddenly stopped and turned so quickly that Glori nearly ran into him. "Look, just... just stop," he said, holding up his hands toward the other two men. "We all knew that this trip could be dangerous, but we can't afford to turn on each other, not here, not now. Regardless of what just happened, we have to pull together."

For a moment they all just stood there in silence. Bredan again regretted not being able to see his companions' faces in the deepening twilight. But a moment later Glori took his hand in hers, and he could feel reassurance seeping into him from that contact.

"We passed a spot a ways back that could serve," Kosk said. Without waiting for confirmation from the others he trudged back down the slope.

Quellan looked back at Bredan and Glori, then shrugged and headed after the dwarf.

"I hope we haven't made a big mistake here," Bredan said.

"It'll be all right," Glori replied. "You'll see. Come on, we shouldn't get separated."

Neither of them saw the glistening eyes that watched their progress from under the half-exposed roots of a nearby tree.

* * * * *

Chapter 14

The monster was chasing Bredan through a dark forest.

He could hear it behind him, the harsh rasp of its breathing punctuated by rhythmic thuds of its claws tearing into the ground with each long stride. He couldn't look back, didn't dare shift his attention from the uneven ground ahead of him, but he could tell that it was getting closer.

Gnarled black trees with branches like deformed limbs rose up all around him. But they offered no hope of shelter; he already knew that if he tried to climb one it would crumble into ash. There was already a thick layer of it under his feet, slowing him just a little bit with each step he took.

The monster, apparently, had no such difficulties.

He didn't have a weapon, and there was nothing around him with which he could defend himself. The trees didn't leave anything behind but ash, and there were no stones, nothing he could pick up to try to hold off his pursuer. All he could do was keep running.

And then the forest ended, and a sharp cliff of crumbling stone rose up ahead of him. The cliff curved inward to his left and right, as if it had been set here as a trap, to pen him in.

As he looked around for a possible route of escape, he saw the monster.

It had slowed down, confident now that its prey was trapped. It was a horrid combination of creatures. It had the furry, muscled body of a bear, down to the sharp curving claws that left gashes in the ashen soil with each step. But its head was insectoid, with huge multi-faced eyes and snapping mandibles that framed a mouth that dripped terrible acidic goo. It had a long snout that terminated in a point that stirred a memory, a hint that something wasn't quite right.

But he didn't get a chance to think it over as the monstrosity charged at him.

He ran toward the cliff, hoping against hope that he could climb it. But even as he placed his hands on the rock it crumbled at his touch, and he slumped back down. The rest of the cliff remained unflinchingly solid, offering no escape.

He turned around, his eyes wide, his mouth opening to scream. But before the sound could escape him, he felt the bug-bear's long proboscis plunging into his belly, deeper and deeper...

* * *

Bredan's eyes flashed open as pain jolted through his stomach. He reached down to grasp at the shaft he'd felt impaling him, but there was nothing there, just his coat and the layer of armor underneath it. Even as his addled brain took that in the pain faded and he sucked in a deep breath. Looking up, he saw that Kosk was standing over him, his staff in his hand.

"You fell asleep," the dwarf said. His voice was like the iron that covered the ends of his staff, hard and unyielding.

Bredan blinked and looked around. The camp was as he remembered it from the night before, when Quellan had woken him to stand his watch. The others were just stirring from their bedrolls. It was morning, though early enough that the sun hadn't yet made its appearance above the horizon.

Morning.

His watch.

He'd fallen asleep.

"Sorry..." he mumbled as he started to get up. But Kosk's staff flashed out, intercepting him. Bredan flinched, but the end stopped just short of impact, instead just pushing lightly into his chest.

"Sorry?" the dwarf asked. "You fell asleep on watch. It's only blind luck that we weren't all killed while you took your rest. Or have you forgotten the events of yesterday?"

"I said I was sorry," Bredan said. That was as much to Glori and Quellan as to the dwarf, as the others had roused themselves enough to follow the exchange. Glori tugged her blanket around her body to ward off the morning chill.

"Sorry won't keep you alive out here," the dwarf said with disgust. He pulled down his staff and started to walk away.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't the one that set a pace that left us all worn down and exhausted," Bredan said. "I made a mistake, and I own that, but damn it, we're not made of iron."

The dwarf turned back slowly, and from the look in his eyes there was a battle brewing there, but Quellan quickly intervened, stepping between them. Kosk said, "You'd be better off letting us clear this up once and for all, lad. This boy needs some sense pounded into him."

"Fine with me," Bredan snarled back. "I'm not a rock, I'll fight back."

"While I admit that I would take a certain pleasure in watching you two beat the living crap out of each other, this is neither the time nor the place," Quellan said. "We have a lot more to do today than..."

He trailed off as soft music filled the clearing. The three men turned to see Glori sitting on the stones at the edge of their camp, her lyre cradled in her lap. The bard continued her playing, her fingers dancing over the strings of the instrument, her plectrum plucking out the notes. The melody started slowly, soft and almost sad, but it quickly built in pace and intensity. She added a martial tone, evocative of soldiers preparing themselves for battle. That passage transitioned into a march, the sharp notes sounding like the endless trudging of booted feet over a long road. But under that cadence something else was growing, a buildup of energy toward an inevitable confrontation. Just when it seemed that the song would erupt in a clash of arms, the melody shifted once more, returning the long plaintive sounds of calm and peace with which she had started. The sense of loss that had been present then was now almost palpable, the notes full of regret and sadness.

When she finally finished the three men just stood there watching her. Bredan had heard her play that piece of music before; she'd called it "Alephron's Regret." But here, on a dim morning in the middle of nowhere, it had sounded completely different than it had when played in the background of a busy tavern. For a moment he'd thought he was actually there, marching along with Alephron and his armies to the final confrontation with the Dead King.

From the looks on their faces their other companions had been likewise affected. Quellan's eyes glistened with a bright sheen. "That was..." the cleric began, but he couldn't finish the thought.

Glori tucked her pick into one of the high pockets of her coat, then took in a deep breath and let it out with a sigh before hopping suddenly to her feet.

"All right, who's ready to start the day?" she said.

The sun had risen when they finally set out, though it remained hidden behind low clouds that promised another gloomy day. They deliberately avoided the old woman's camp, but they had no difficulty finding the trail that led up to the cleft in the side of the bluff. The ascent was steep but manageable. They encountered a few places where loose rocks made the climb treacherous, but Kosk's adage about the usefulness of rope proved true and they were able to manage that portion of the route without anything more serious than a few skinned knees.

Once they actually made it into the cleft the trail leveled out some, which was helpful given that the weak sunlight had all but disappeared. As they passed out of the light into the narrow interior of the cleft, Bredan felt a moment of panic; the shadowed shaft reminded him vividly of the dark landscape of his dream. But after a moment that premonition eased, and once his eyes adjusted he could see enough to make his way forward.

Glori paused, perhaps sensing that something was wrong. Looking back, she asked, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Though I'm finding myself envious of your eyes."

She smiled. "We could light torches..."

"No, I'm fine for now. I'll let you know if it becomes a problem."

"You lovebirds coming?" Kosk's voice drifted down from above. It had been perhaps too much to hope that the dwarf might have eased his hurried pace a bit now that they were creeping up the side of a mountain toward who knows what, Bredan thought.

The two hurried to catch up but found that their companions were waiting for them not far ahead. Just beyond them the cleft narrowed until the two sides came together in an abrupt stop. Above them the cleft extended for another hundred feet to the summit of the bluff, but one look at the sheer cliffs was enough to dissuade them from any interest in that direction.

But there was no need to climb; their destination was just ahead.

At the spot where the facing cliffs met there was a dark opening that led into the interior of the bluff. It was definitely man-made; Bredan could just make out the outline of roughly-hewn steps that led up to it, and it was framed by massive lintel stones that were too smooth and regular to be a natural feature. He wondered at the effort that would have been required to build this place, so far isolated from any outpost of civilization. Or had it been magic that had done this, magic of the sort that had brought them here in the first place?

He was so intent on his musing that he didn't hear what Kosk had said. "What?" Bredan asked. He turned to see that the dwarf—and the others—were unslinging their packs.

The monk shot him a look, but he thankfully didn't comment on his woolgathering. "I said, leave your packs and all your heavy gear. Bedrolls, extra clothes, pots and pans, any food that's not ready-to-eat."

Bredan looked up and down the length of the cleft. There were plenty of places where a pack or a few loose articles might be stashed, but between the four of them... "But what if someone steals our stuff?" he asked.

"If you get caught in a trap or can't maneuver in a fight, you'll have a much bigger problem," Kosk said.

"We'll bring plenty of torches, so you can see," Quellan said. "And if it comes to it, I can summon light with my magic."

Bredan carefully unslung his pack and found a spot for it in the rocks where it might not be immediately visible to someone coming by. He had to admit that he'd gotten rather attached to Kesren's creation, even though it was a relief to get its weight off his back. He reached inside and took out a few canvas-wrapped torches that he tucked into his belt.

He hesitated over the crossbow. He had no idea what they would find beyond that dark opening, but he had a pretty good idea that it would involve close quarters. On the other hand, too close and he wouldn't have room to use his sword. Finally, he took the bow and the case of bolts; he could always leave them somewhere if they proved too cumbersome and pick them up on the way out.

He paused again when he came upon his set of tools. Obviously they wouldn't be doing any smithing here, but he could think of a lot of other situations where the various metalworking instruments could come in handy. And they were easily contained in the leather wrap that his uncle had given him, which came with its own carrying strap.

He glanced up and saw that the others were all not only ready, but they were all watching him. He flushed and quickly slung the leather wrap across his opposite shoulder where it wouldn't interfere with his baldric. "Ready," he said.

"Shouldn't you load that thing?" Quellan asked, indicating the crossbow.

"No," Bredan and Kosk said simultaneously. When Kosk just growled Bredan quickly added, "A small draw-operated bow like this, it can't take the long-term strain on the string and arms that a heavier winch-operated bow can. Keeping it drawn too long will damage both the strength and accuracy of the weapon."

"Well, you're the expert," the half-orc said. He took out a torch and a piece of flint, and with a few strikes on the flanges of his mace got the pitch head burning. He picked up his shield and led the way toward the dark opening, with Kosk just behind him. Glori and Bredan followed close behind.

The dark opening seemed to drink up the light of the torch, revealing its secrets only reluctantly. They saw a passage that curved to the left before straightening for as far as the light extended. The walls and ceiling were stone worked smooth, and there were only a few scattered bits of rock in the entry before the route forward cleared.

The cleric stepped forward warily, shining the torch around before proceeding. Kosk gave the stone blocks to each side a good look, tapping them with his staff.

"Do you really think there will be a trap right at the entrance?" Glori asked.

Kosk growled something unintelligible, and Quellan explained, "I think we're better off assuming that everything's a trap until proven otherwise."

Bredan remained a few steps back so that he wouldn't get in the others' way. But as he waited, he detected something, a sharp scent of something burning that at first he blamed on the cleric's torch. But the scent deepened, adding a sulfurous tinge that he recognized from the forge—that smell was a sign of bad coal that wasn't going to be good for heating metal. He had no idea what it meant here, but he instinctively knew that it wasn't good.

Looking around, he saw something that he'd missed initially. To the left of the entrance, partially hidden behind the mass of the stone that framed the opening, there was a small crevice in the rock, extending under the lintel. The smell seemed to be coming from that crevice, and as he bent lower to take a closer look, he saw that it actually went on for quite a ways, widening a bit beyond that initial gap.

"Um... guys..." he began.

Two red points suddenly materialized within the depths of the crevice, accompanied by a low growl.

"Guys!" Bredan warned. He stumbled back while reaching for the hook to cock the crossbow. "I think I found the guardian!"

The others turned quickly to look, but even as Quellan lowered the torch toward the crevice a mass of fur and claws and fury exploded out of the opening and attacked.

* * * * *

Chapter 15

Quellan reacted instinctively, thrusting his torch into the snapping jaws of the creature. The monster bit down on it, splattering burning pitch all over its face. That would have given a normal beast pause, but the flames didn't seem to have any effect on this... whatever it was. With its violent thrashing all Quellan could make out was that it was broad with stubby legs and had black fur. And powerful jaws full of very big teeth.

The creature thrust itself up to attack again, but before it could engage with teeth or claws, Glori slid over to the side and shot it in the flank with her bow. The beast roared and spun to face her, but Quellan moved quickly to keep it penned into the narrow space of the crevice, slamming down his shield to block its progress. He could feel the impacts shoot up its arm as its claws tore into the layers of wooden boards. It took all his effort to hold onto the shield and he had no chance to try to grab his mace. The half-orc tried to plant his feet to hold it back, but he was still driven back a full step, then two as the creature continued its furious assault. With a rasp it snapped one claw up over the rim of the shield, and he knew he couldn't hold it much longer.

"On your right!" Kosk said, and Quellan shifted slightly to give the dwarf access to the foe. The monk snapped his staff into the creature's skull, but if the blow hurt the thing it gave no obvious sign. Instead it twisted its head around suddenly and seized hold of the end of the weapon in its heavy jaws. It pulled back with equal fury, so fast that Kosk was drawn in before he could let go. Even as the staff flipped up into the air, the creature lunged at him with its claws, trying to trap the dwarf underneath its bulk. But Kosk spun and drove a hard punch into its snout, knocking it back just enough for him to dart back out of its reach.

Now driven into a wild frenzy, the creature thrust forward again, knocking Quellan roughly aside and nearly catching Kosk despite his quick retreat. But as the monk escaped it turned on the cleric, who had no chance to bring his shield back around. The creature opened its jaws impossibly wide then lunged to snap them around Quellan's exposed leg.

Quellan flinched, but before the monster could seize him it was struck from behind by Bredan. The smith's huge sword impaled it through the back, driving down until the tip scraped against the hard stone beneath it. For a moment it looked like even that wouldn't stop it, as it reared back in an attempt to bite its tormentor, but then with a last spasm that shook all of its limbs it crumpled and fell still.

For a moment they all just stood there staring down at the carcass, as if half-expecting it to get back up again and resume its assault.

"Is everyone all right?" Quellan asked. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"I think we're all okay," Kosk said. He prodded the thing's head with his foot while Bredan stepped onto its back and yanked his sword free. Now that it was dead they could see what it was: a giant badger, in death remarkable only for its size. But there had been nothing normal in the way it had attacked, or in the way its eyes had glowed red when it had first lunged up out of the crevice where it made its den.

"That thing... it wasn't quite right," Glori said with a shudder.

"You can say that again," Bredan said. He glanced over at Kosk as if expecting a comment, but the dwarf gave the dead creature one last look before walking over to where his staff had fallen. He checked the wood, which had a few fresh gouges near one end but otherwise seemed to be intact.

"Let's go," he said.

* * *

Quellan had no difficulty admitting to himself that he was afraid. Introspection was a skill that was strongly encouraged within the clergy of Hosrenu, and his particular circumstances had made him especially aware of his own perceptions. And there were plenty of reasons to be concerned, he thought. Starfinder's notes had indicated that the Eth'barat trafficked in magic from the Outer Planes, including summoned guardians. He didn't know if that badger had been such or if it had just been an unfortunate beast that had become tainted by the power that resided here. He wasn't sure which scenario he preferred; either was quite disquieting.

So he had no difficulty acknowledging his fear, but he made a strong effort to conceal it from his companions. Not out of any sense of bravado; Quellan resisted any behavior that struck him as "orcish." But he felt like he had to project an air of stability to protect the group from the discord that seemed to be threatening their common cause. He had always preferred to avoid conflict, but here their ability to pull together as a team might be a matter of survival.

He was reminded of that as they made their way into the interior of the ancient shrine. He was in the lead, the light from a fresh torch pushing back the darkness, but they'd barely managed ten steps past the entrance he was greeted with a familiar smell. He stopped. The torchlight revealed that the passage opened onto a larger room ahead, but he couldn't make out any details of what might be inside.

"Ugh, what's that stink?" Glori asked.

Quellan knew the answer, but he let Kosk answer. "Death," the dwarf said.

The smell grew stronger as they approached the room. The source of it was revealed when the light extended into the chamber.

Death was right, the cleric thought. The bodies—six of them, he counted—were scattered through the room. They were all hacked up, a gory mess, and he might not have been able to identify them if the old woman hadn't warned them to look out for bugbears. They were imposing even in death, bigger even than the half-orc. Some of them still held bloody weapons in their hands, suggesting that they might have managed a few hits against whoever or whatever had killed them.

"What is it?" Glori asked. "What's there?"

At the bard's prompt Quellan stepped forward and to the side, clearing the entry so the others could see. Glori sucked in a startled breath as she took in the scene. Bredan looked pale, and Quellan wondered if he had ever seen death, violent death, up close like this before. Kosk took a more practical approach, prodding at the nearest body with his staff. That one had finally succumbed just a few steps from the entry, leaving behind a trail of blood that extended halfway across the room.

"What killed them?" Bredan asked. No one had an answer, but Quellan couldn't shake a feeling that there was something wrong here, a sinister mystery he couldn't quite identify.

Tearing his attention from the dead bugbears, the cleric examined the rest of the room. The place was oddly shaped, with angular walls that collectively formed a rough hexagon. The passage entered on one of the points. There was another similar passage on the far side of the room, though the torchlight didn't extend far enough for him to see where it led.

More remarkable were the faces embedded in the walls. They were stone carvings, four of them, though a scatter of rubble under an uneven patch of wall suggested that there might have once been five. The stone faces were each about two feet high and only bore the vaguest features. But they were all subtly different, and as Quellan studied them he realized that they had been crafted to each represent a different emotional state, from joy and sadness to pain and anger. He idly wondered what the fifth one had depicted.

Kosk had finished his examination of the first dead bugbear and started forward into the room. "Careful," Quellan said.

The dwarf shrugged. "If we aren't going to turn back, then the only way left is forward," he said. But it was clear that he too was wary of the place, and he placed each foot carefully as he circled the chamber. The others followed him in, just as slowly.

"Those faces... they're creepy," Bredan said.

Glori gave one a closer look. "They just look like solid stone." She reached out as if to touch it—the carving showing the drooping face of sadness—but then turned back to the corpses clustered in the middle of the room.

"No bugs," Bredan said suddenly.

The smith's words stirred an awareness in Quellan's mind—he was right, the room was devoid of the crawling and flying vermin that should have accompanied this much death. And for that matter, while the bodies did stink, the stench should have been much worse given the confined space and the length of time they'd been here, assuming the old woman's account had been accurate. It was as if the decay that naturally followed death was being held at bay here in this place.

Kosk finished his circuit of the room and returned to the bodies in the center. He grabbed hold of one by its armor, and with a grunt of effort lifted it up off the ground. Neither he nor any of the others spotted the gleaming axe that was pinned under its torso, and when Glori said, "Hey, over here," he released the dead bugbear and went over to where she was bent over another of the corpses.

"What is it?" Bredan asked.

"This one's belt buckle. Silver, solid silver. With this design work, might be worth ten, twenty golds."

Kosk frowned, "We shouldn't be worried about loot, we should be worried about what killed these bastards."

"We can worry about both things simultaneously," Glori said, cutting the buckle free with her knife and tucking it into her belt pouch.

"There's nothing else here," Bredan said. "It's almost like..."

He trailed off, but Quellan prodded. "What? What's it like?"

The smith swallowed. "It's almost like they hacked each other to pieces."

"We should be moving on," Kosk said. But when the dwarf turned he just stood there, staring at the four stone faces. Some of them were damaged, Quellan saw, chipped as if someone had tried to do to them what had happened to the mysterious missing fifth face.

Seized by a sudden premonition, Quellan stepped back to the entry. As he passed through the transition between the room and the passage he felt something, a faint tingle on his skin, just a slight pressure holding him back. It wasn't enough to stop him, but he felt a cold feeling of dread in his guts as he turned to see the others all looking at him.

"What's the matter, Quellan?" Glori asked.

"Try to leave," he said to them. "Either that doorway, or this one."

Kosk walked over to the far passage with purpose, but he came to a sudden stop right on the edge of the room. "I... I can't," he said. "I want to go, I just... I can't take that extra step."

Bredan and Glori went over to join Quellan at the entrance. "I can't either," Glori said. Her words were echoed on Bredan's face. "Maybe you can drag us out," the smith suggested. "Or knock us out..."

"I don't think there's time for that," Kosk said as he came back toward them. The dwarf's expression was a hard grimace, and he clutched his staff with fingers that were white with tension.

"What's going on?" Glori said. "What's happening?" Whatever the monk was feeling, she clearly was feeling it too as her eyes flicked back and forth wildly, darting from the stone faces to those of her companions.

"Ask them," Bredan said, nodding toward the dead bugbears.

* * * * *

Chapter 16

Kosk's lips tightened in a snarl and he let out a low growl as he raised his staff and leapt to the attack.

Glori flinched back as the iron-shot staff slammed hard into its target. The attacks kept coming, one after another, the head of the staff striking like a snake. She threw up her hands to protect her face as shards of stone shot past. "Ahh!" she yelled. "What's he doing?"

"The faces," Quellan said, as the dwarf continued smashing one of the stone masks embedded into the walls. "It's the faces!"

Bredan turned to another of the stone faces. To him it seemed like the exaggerated expression of joy was mocking him. He realized with a start that he had his sword bare in his hands; he did not remember drawing it. He'd almost swung it, though that would have likely only shattered the steel. Trying to clear his head, he let the sword fall and reached for his tools.

On realizing his companion's plan, Quellan took out his mace and went to work on the stone face showing pain. He felt a jolt ring up his arm as he struck it, but nothing otherwise as he started methodically smashing the carving. Martial notes filled the air as Glori, realizing she had nothing useful for stone-crushing, strummed her lyre. The song was evocative of the march she'd played that morning, the orderly structure of its melody helping to counter the discordant effects of the masks. Within a few moments her companions' blows all synchronized to the music, a regular harmonic beat that was offset by the patter of shards bouncing off the walls or floor.

The stone faces might have lasted for centuries, but against the determined assault of three strong men they could not stand. Kosk was the first to complete his destruction, but as his mask shattered into fragments a pulse of mental energy erupted through the room. All four adventurers staggered back, clutching their heads.

"What... what was _that_?" Glori asked.

"Maybe... maybe the energy of the spell being discharged?" Quellan ventured. "Can you leave?"

Glori was nearest the exit, and she crossed to it in a flash. "No," she said after a moment.

"More work to do, then," Kosk muttered, lifting his staff again.

"Wait, just wait!" Quellan said. "I'm not sure how many of those pulses we can withstand."

"You can get out," the monk said. "Go wait outside, if you can't handle it."

"It's not that I can't handle it," the half-orc said.

Glori idly dropped a hand to her lyre, and as her fingertips brushed the strings Kosk turned to her. "And you can lay off that bloody racket! I can't hear myself bloody think with all the noise you make!"

"It's not my fault you have the artistic perceptions of a toadstool!" Glori shot back.

"You're starting to get on my nerves!" Kosk shouted. Without realizing it he'd taken a step closer to her, leaving just a narrow gap between them.

"Leave her alone!" Quellan roared.

Bredan let out a wild yell and threw himself back at his mask with a fury that briefly shocked the others out of their argument. With a chisel in one hand and a small hammer in the other he rained down blows on the stone face. Dust swirled into his face and covered his clothes, and for a moment he could hardly see, but he kept on delivering precise strikes. Before any of the others could intervene, there was another loud, ominous crack, and they all tensed in anticipation of another wave of pain. That pulse came, but it was weaker this time and its effects quickly faded.

Bredan was already staggering toward the next mask, looking like some sort of ghoul with the pale dust covering his upper body, but before he could resume his attack Quellan intervened. "Wait... I think that might be it," he said. "Try it now."

Glori ventured to the exit once more, and this time she was able to step into the far passage without difficulty. "It's okay," she said. "It worked."

"That..." Quellan said. "It was just the magic, it wasn't us."

"I know," Glori said, with a look at Kosk. The monk was holding onto his staff tightly, staring down at his fists clenched around the wooden shaft. The others all watched him until he let out a breath and let his hands fall. "I'm sorry," he said.

"No harm done," Glori said.

Bredan took a steadying breath of his own as he replaced his tools in their case. He started toward his sword, but Kosk beat him to it. The smith looked suspicious for a moment as the dwarf lifted his weapon, but Kosk only slid it back into its scabbard and offered it to him. "Well done," he said.

"Thanks," Bredan said as he accepted the sword. He started to move past the dwarf, but Kosk interrupted him by asking, "Was it my face you saw? When you were smashing the stone?"

Bredan's face cracked into a small smile. "Maybe."

"Let's get out of here, okay?" Quellan suggested.

"Aye, let's see what other creative ways these Barat bastards have to try to kill us," Kosk said.

They left the room, but did not get very far. The new passage only extended for about twenty feet before it turned suddenly and ended in a solid wall.

"Um... dead end?" Glori asked.

"Don't give up so easy," Kosk said. He slipped past Quellan and examined the wall, running his fingertips over the surface. "This was built later than the rest of the place. Masonry work, and done in a hurry, I'd guess." He flicked a piece of mortar clear with his thumbnail and gave the wall a tap with his staff. "I expect the boy could chip us a passage fairly quick."

"I wonder who built it, and why?" Glori asked. "To keep folks out... or to keep something in?"

"Like what?" Bredan asked. "Some kind of monster? Another guardian?"

"There's no way of knowing," Quellan said. "But the fact that someone went through this amount of effort suggests that there's _something_ important behind this wall."

Kosk shrugged. "None of that matters. If we're going to do what we came here to do, it's an obstacle we need to get through. So unless you want me to do it, time to start hammering, boy."

The others stepped back and Bredan went to work. The hammer and chisel made a lot of noise, but after the ruckus they'd made back in the entrance chamber they were less worried about drawing unwanted attention. Even so, they took turns keeping an eye on the passage behind them. When Bredan finally knocked an opening through the wall with a clatter of stones they all tensed, half expecting something to jump out at them, but only darkness and stale air greeted them. Working together, they quickly widened the breach until it was wide enough for Quellan to slip through. The half-orc bent low and squeezed through the opening, then made room for the others to follow behind.

The passage on the far side of the wall quickly gave way to a narrow stone staircase that wound deeper into the interior of the bluff. Quellan led the way, his torch held high to brighten the way for the others.

The stone steps descended steeply, twisting around upon themselves until they abruptly ended at a small landing. The room appeared to be empty, but Quellan's torch revealed another passage that exited opposite the stairs.

The half-orc paused and glanced back to confirm that his companions were still close behind. Everything seemed well, but as he stepped off the bottom stair onto the floor of the anteroom, a demon materialized in front of him and attacked.

* * * * *

Chapter 17

The demon only came to half the cleric's height, but what it lacked in size it made up for in ferocity. It had a hideous appearance, its form roughly humanoid but bloated and bulbous with a sickly gray hide that was covered in oozing sores. Its face was dominated by sagging jaws, and its arms ended in oversized claws that tore into the cleric's legs before he could get his shield around in defense.

Quellan reflexively smacked it with the torch, but the flames were about as effective as they had been against the fiendish badger earlier. He tried to pull free, but despite his considerable strength the demon held on with a furious will, burying its claws deeper into the cleric's legs.

With a roar of challenge Kosk leapt off the stairs to come to his friend's aid. His foot sank deep into the demon's spongy flesh, but the impact finally knocked it clear of its victim. The fiend flailed for balance before striking the wall of the room, where it stuck there for a moment before it pulled itself free and started forward again.

Quellan tossed his shield down and pulled out his mace, but even as he turned toward the demon their situation grew more difficult. As soon as Kosk's feet touched the floor, a second demon identical to the first appeared in a puff of black smoke right in front of the dwarf. It too immediately attacked. Kosk drove his staff into its belly, but it simply absorbed the impact and lashed out with a claw that drew bloody gashes across the monk's forearm.

Glori had her bow out, but couldn't get a clear shot with the bulk of the cleric blocking the bottom of the staircase. Bredan pushed past her, his sword in his hand, but even as he started down the last few steps Quellan yelled, "Don't leave the stairs! More of them may appear!" Bredan caught himself just in time, grabbing hold of the adjacent wall for balance. His boot swung out over the floor before it found stable purchase again on the bottom step. With both demons out of reach, he retreated back a few steps before reaching for his crossbow.

Quellan met the first demon's renewed charge, smashing it in the head. The blow would have crushed the skull of a normal creature, and it did stagger the demon, but somehow it still clung to life. It lunged at him again, its claws scraping on the iron scales protecting the cleric's torso.

Kosk grimaced as blood seeped into the sleeve of his robe. The demon kept pressing him, trying to drag the monk into an embrace where its oversized claws could shred his unarmored body to ribbons. Having learned that its bloated body could absorb impacts, he used his staff to keep it at bay, delivering sharp cracks to its face that soon left its already sagging features shattered. For a moment it seemed to fall back, but that was only to collect itself for another leap. With a corner of the room at his back it didn't look like there was anywhere for the dwarf to go.

But even as Kosk planted his feet, there was a sharp _thwip_ as an arrow from Glori's bow sank into the demon's throat. The creature let out an ugly hiss, which became a squeal as Kosk knocked its stubby legs out from under it and drove his staff down into its face with enough force to crush what was left of its brains. The demon's limbs twitched and then it fell still.

A pace away Quellan had likewise gained the advantage over his adversary. The demon kept attacking despite its injuries, but it just couldn't overcome the discrepancies of size and strength. Even as it came in again, trying to get a fresh hold on its opponent's leg, the cleric kicked it hard, lifting it into the air and driving it to the hard ground. The demon sprang up quickly from even that rough treatment, but it was only to take a truly crushing blow from Quellan's mace that relocated its head to roughly the center of its torso. With a final hissing sound, it crumpled to the floor.

Bredan raised his bow, having finally gotten the weapon loaded, only to see that the fight was over.

"You're bleeding," Glori said as Quellan turned around. Instinct had her reaching for her lyre and starting down the steps before both Bredan caught her. "It's still dangerous," he said.

"I will be fine," Quellan said, invoking another healing spell. As the divine energies flowed through him the bleeding stopped and he let out a steadying breath; the demon's claws had bitten deep.

The cleric went over to Kosk, who was staring down at the demon he'd slain. The creature was deflating like a waterskin with a deep puncture, and as they watched the thing dissolved into black wisps that quickly faded into nothing. "You should get that treated," Quellan said, indicating the dwarf's bloody arm. "My ability to channel the god's power to heal is spent for the day, but you have the potion, or maybe Glori can—"

"It can wait until you figure out what caused those demons to appear, and whether more of them will pop in when those two come off those steps," the dwarf said.

Quellan nodded. He tucked his mace back into his belt and held out the torch to play the light out over the floor and walls. He didn't see anything at first, but after a moment he lifted his free hand and invoked the power of his patron. At his call a cool, steady light erupted from the palm of his hand. When he lowered his hand and that glow shone upon the floor faint silvery runes became visible, a spiral pattern of them that covered most of the surface of the room.

"What is that, some sort of spell diagram?" Glori asked.

"I would presume so," the cleric said.

"Can you dispel it?" Kosk asked.

Quellan studied the runes for a long moment, then shook his head. "I don't have that kind of power. But maybe if we disrupt the pattern..."

Kosk nodded. "Your tools, boy. Mind you, stay up there, just toss them to me."

It only took a few moments for Bredan to get out his hammer and chisel, and a moment later the dwarf was kneeling on the floor where the first demon had appeared. He picked out a spot and random and delivered a hard blow that sent a tiny chip of stone flying. Focusing on the task, Kosk went to work methodically widening the mark.

"What were those things?" Glori asked while they waited.

"The old books refer to them as _mar-grugh_ ," Quellan said. "The least among demon-kind."

"Those were the weakest?" Bredan asked with incredulity. "If that's true, I hope we don't run into any stronger ones."

After a moment Kosk got up and started to wipe his brow, before remembering that his sleeve was still soaked with blood. He'd cut six gouges in the floor, ruining the spiral pattern of the runes. "Do you think that did it?" he asked the cleric.

"I have no way of knowing," Quellan said.

"Only one way to find out," Glori said, but even as she started forward Bredan interjected, "No, let me go." The bard frowned at his back but didn't challenge him as he drew his sword and descended to the last step of the staircase. Quellan and Kosk each readied their weapons and stepped back to give the young smith room as he took a deep breath and stepped forward onto the edge of the pattern. When nothing happened, they all let out a breath.

"Well, that's a relief," Glori said.

"Good thing to keep in mind, though, that a stray step in this place could mean death," Kosk pointed out. He turned to Quellan as the cleric recovered his shield. The light still shone from his hand, though it dimmed as he closed his fist around the grip of the shield. "If you're going to stay in the lead, you should give that torch to someone else."

"I'll take it," Glori said.

"I should take it, it's for my benefit," Bredan said. "The rest of you don't have any trouble seeing in the dark."

"You need your hands free to swing that huge chopper of yours," Glori said.

"I haven't had much chance to swing it yet."

"You killed the badger," Glori said.

"I hate to interrupt this scintillating conversation, but we do have a cursed, trap-filled dungeon to clear out," Kosk said. "Take the damn torch and let's keep moving."

Glori took the torch and stuck her tongue out at the dwarf's back as he turned, drawing a grin from Bredan. With the burning brand holding the enveloping darkness tentatively at bay, the companions set out again to confront whatever other surprises the long-dead architects of this place had created for them.

* * * * *

Chapter 18

They followed the passage that led out from the demon room for about twenty feet before it split, with a side-fork leading off to the left. Quellan chose that direction without discussion, and they made their way down another twenty-foot segment of corridor before it came to an end in front of an imposing-looking stone door.

Glori and the torch were behind Quellan's considerable bulk, so the cleric raised his hand and unleashed another beam of magical light to illuminate the portal. It looked to be a single massive slab of granite, attached to its threshold on giant stone pins rather than hinges. The cleric squeezed to the side so the others could see.

"That doesn't look very promising," Glori said. "Should we try the other way?"

"Might as well see if it's locked while we're here," Kosk said. He finished his inspection and then smacked his hands together before positioning himself so his back was at the door and he could push off the threshold and the adjacent wall. "Maybe you'd better give me a hand, boy," he said.

"I have a name," Bredan muttered, but he came forward to assist the dwarf. With their disparity in size they were both able to apply their strength to the door.

"On three, now," Kosk said. After a glance back to make sure Quellan and Glori were ready he said, "One, two, threeee!"

The last word trailed out to a grunt of effort as both men put the full effort of their muscles into moving the door. For a moment it looked as though it was secured somehow, but then with a loud scrape of stone on stone it swung incrementally inward. With that proof that it could be opened, they redoubled their efforts. The door seemed to actively resist them until it finally gave way enough to clear the thick threshold. Once it was at that point it was just a matter of time, as they could reach into the gap and use that leverage to pry the door open the rest of the way. It still took the better part of another minute to widen the opening enough to slip through.

Breathing heavily, Kosk and Bredan stumbled forward into the room behind the door. Glori was right behind them, her torch held up to illuminate the chamber. Quellan brought up the rear, grunting as he squeezed sideways to slide his large frame through the narrow gap.

At first, they could not see much. The room was roughly fifteen feet wide and twenty feet long. There were no furnishings or other features of note, but as the light of the torch reached the far wall it glinted off of something metallic. A lot of somethings, in fact.

"What's that?" Bredan asked. He started to take a step in that direction, but Glori stopped him with a warning. "Wait," she said. She took out her pick and strummed a few notes on her lyre. The song was basic, just the beginnings of a melody, but the lyre began to glow. That glow was answered by an echoing radiance that formed around her, dividing into several motes of soft light that drifted forward as she continued to play.

"Woah," Bredan said as the glowing pulses slipped past him.

The lyre's magic revealed that the far wall of the room was covered with iron spikes embedded into the stone. The spikes were evenly spaced a few feet apart, and covered the entire wall except for a small space in the center. Resting in that gap was a compact box that also appeared to be embedded in or attached to the wall.

"How much you want to bet that what we're looking for, or something we need to get to, is in that box?" Glori asked. She looked at the others, but it was clear that none were going to take that wager.

"There's no sign that the wall moves," Bredan said. "There would be scrape marks on the floor if there was some kind of mechanism."

Kosk shot him a dubious look, but finally said, "You're not as dim as you seem, boy."

"He's actually pretty clever sometimes," Glori said. "I mean, not about books or stuff like that, but other things."

"Gee, thanks," Bredan said dryly.

"I'll check it out," Quellan said. But as the half-orc started forward Kosk interrupted him with a raised hand. "Better let me," the dwarf said. "I'm better at evading if those spikes start shooting across the room or something."

"Do you want my shield?" the cleric asked.

"I prefer not to get hit at all," the dwarf replied. "Better get back out of the way, just in case."

The others withdrew back almost to the door. Glori maintained her spell, keeping her floating lights in the corners so they clearly illuminated the far wall without obstructing Kosk's view. The dwarf went forward carefully, alert to whatever trap the Eth'barat might have set here.

But when he finally triggered the trap, it caught him completely by surprise. He was roughly in the middle of the room when from one step to the next the orientation of the room seemed to shift suddenly. Clearly whatever it was wasn't just in his mind, for as _ahead_ became _down_ he found himself falling.

Straight toward the spikes that marched across the wall—now the floor—ahead of him.

* * * * *

Chapter 19

"Kosk!" Glori shouted, but there was nothing any of them could do to help him.

Without anything to grab onto, there was nothing the dwarf could do to arrest his flight. He had a mental flash that he'd been stupid not to take a rope with him, or to toss a coin or an iron spike across the room first— _anything_ but walk like an idiot right into the trap. But that insight lasted only an instant before it was replaced by a voice screaming warnings of what would happen when his body was impaled on those spikes.

Instinct had him twisting his body around, trying to catch up to the suddenly-changed sensory inputs. At the last instant he managed to smack a hand off the floor—the original floor, now a wall speeding past—and used that impact to spin around to face his feet toward the spikes. He didn't have a chance to look down and could only hope that he didn't impale one or both feet on them.

He felt pain as he landed hard, the pain of impact as his legs absorbed the shock of a ten-foot drop. He paid that price, accepted it as he forced himself to remain upright, not to roll or drop or do anything else until he knew where the spikes were situated.

As he got his bearings and the initial jolt faded, he felt another lingering pain, this one a burning sensation that came from the side of his left leg. He looked down and saw that he'd gashed the limb on one of the spikes. Bright red blood was already soaking through his leggings and was starting to drip down onto the "floor" beneath him. But it could have been a lot worse; a finger's length to the left and the spike would have stabbed right through his foot.

"Kosk, are you all right?" Quellan asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Stay back!" the dwarf warned, though the half-orc had only taken a single step forward. "The gravity shift hit me around the middle of the room, but it could vary for each person."

Glori moved one of her lights toward the dwarf, but he waved at it irritably. Kosk grimaced as he lifted his bloody leg, then undid one of the fasteners that bound the wrist of his robe and used it to apply pressure to the gashed limb. The pool around his foot continued to grow as more blood dripped from the wound.

"You should drink your potion," Glori suggested.

"I said I'm fine," the dwarf growled back.

"We can toss a rope over and pull you out," Quellan said. "But Glori's right. If something else happens while you're over there—a secondary trap, for example—we won't be able to get to you easily. Better to be careful."

Kosk muttered something under his breath but he took out the vial and downed its contents. At once the trickle of blood eased and the pain vanished.

"I'm going to check out the box," he said.

It was strange, watching the others standing on what from his altered perspective was the wall of the room above him. Kosk knew it was he who was violating the laws of the universe, but to him it felt just as if the stone beneath him was "down."

Putting aside such distracting thoughts, he carefully made his way through the spikes over to the clear space around the box. His injured foot squelched in his sandal and he left a bloody footprint with each step, but he ignored that, focusing instead on the container.

Up close he could see that it was a solid-looking wooden chest, bound with strips of bronze that showed no sign of tarnish. The lock on the front was equally impressive. Kosk examined the chest for a moment then gave it a gentle shove.

"It's not attached, it's just the gravity effect holding it in place," he reported to the others. He tested the lid. "It's locked."

"I can get it open," Bredan said, tapping his case of tools.

Kosk considered a moment. "All right," he said. "Let's pull it out, then take a look."

It did not take long to come up with a plan. Bredan would remain back by the far side of the room, well clear of the gravity field just in case something went wrong. He took some of the extra rope and wedged it into the narrow gap between the top of the stone door and the threshold. What remained offered plenty of extra slack. Glori and Quellan, holding onto the rope, advanced carefully to just shy of the spot where Kosk had started to fall, ready to grab the chest when it crossed the transition.

Bredan tied the other end of the rope in a loose knot to add weight to it, then unwound enough extra loops to reach across to the far side of the room. It was strange seeing the rope fly halfway across the room and then suddenly grow taut as the shift in gravity took hold. The effect seemed to be situated on a line that exactly bisected the room.

As Kosk took hold of the knotted end the rope hung in the air across the room, passing between Glori and Quellan. The dwarf quickly undid the knot and wrapped the rope around the chest, lifting it briefly so he could loop it around.

"Your friend's not like any other monk I've ever met... or ever heard of," Glori said quietly as they watched the dwarf work.

"Well, your friend's hardly an ordinary smith," Quellan replied.

Her eyes flashed over at him. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just that... well, he's courageous. He obviously cares about you a great deal."

"We've been friends a long time," Glori said.

For a moment it looked like the cleric wanted to say more, but Kosk finished tying off the chest and gave the rope a few quick tugs. Bredan pulled on the rope, his strong arms quickly adding loops of rope to the pile growing at his feet. From Quellan and Glori's perspective, the chest hung in mid-air as it drifted toward them. It didn't have that far to go, but the strange effect of the gravity shift made its approach seem portentous.

In the end, though, it proved no trouble at all. Glori and Quellan caught the chest just as it crossed the transition and started to drop. They set it down near the door and then Quellan helped Bredan pull Kosk over to their side of the room. They briefly debated taking the chest somewhere else before opening it, but given that every other room in this place had already tried to kill them they decided to stay. But just to be on the safe side they chose a spot close to the exit.

The chest proved as durable as it had looked, but after a dozen blows from Bredan's chisel the lock finally gave way and it popped open. Despite the danger of still another trap the four of them crowded around to get a look as the smith carefully opened the lid and they peered inside.

"No magic stone," Kosk said.

"No, but it's a good thing we were careful," Glori said. She reached into the chest and took out several small vials that held liquid contents in a variety of colors and consistencies.

"Magic potions?" Bredan asked.

"Most likely," Quellan said. He had taken another item from the chest, a tightly-wound scroll sealed with a blob of plain wax. He broke the seal and carefully unwound it, but before he could see what was written on it, it came apart and crumbled into dust.

"Damn," Quellan said.

"Too bad," Glori said. "Must have been pretty old." She looked over at Bredan, who was staring at where the scroll had been, a strangely intent look on his face. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He blinked and shook his head. "What? Nothing. Is there anything else in there?"

Glori turned back to the chest and reached inside. "Hey, what's this?" she asked.

The object she took out of the chest looked like a dagger at first glance, but it was of very unusual manufacture. The hilt was made of two pieces of curved bronze that surrounded a core of pale green mineral. That "blade" extended out for about six inches beyond the handle, but while it was approximately shaped like a real weapon it ended in a snub notch rather than a point, and the sides were blunt rather than edged.

"It's jade," Quellan said. He gave the odd dagger a closer look. "Some believe that the mineral can help to preserve the soul after death, and that it can add vitality in the later years of life. It's used in burial rituals in a number of cultures for that reason."

"Valuable, then?" Bredan asked.

"Indeed," Kosk said. He'd been giving the dagger a lingering look, but when the others glanced at him he turned decisively and walked away. "Those Barat cultists wouldn't have locked it up in there if it wasn't important somehow. Pack it up and let's keep moving before something else finds us."

"What about the potions?" Glori asked.

"Quellan can tell you what they are," Kosk said. "He took a course at the monastery."

"Really?" Glori asked.

The half-orc couldn't blush, but he did manage to look a bit embarrassed. "Magical potions tend to have standard formulae that present distinctive features of odor, texture, and taste," he said. "And even if that doesn't work you can usually get a pretty good idea of the effect by tasting a drop."

"'less it's poison, though I reckon you get a pretty good idea from that drop then too," Kosk pointed out.

"Can you teach me?" Glori asked.

Before Quellan could respond, Kosk said, "This isn't a bloody seminar at the bloody monastery."

"Maybe we'd better get out of here first," Bredan added.

"Well, maybe one of those potions might end up saving our lives," Glori returned.

"It'll just take a moment," Quellan said, carefully unscrewing the plug on one of the vials. In his hands the vial looked tiny and fragile, but he handled it deftly and quickly sniffed at it and swirled it before tipping a single drop onto the nail of his little finger and touching it to his tongue.

"Healing," he said. He handed the potion to Kosk to replace the one he'd used. The other two he identified as enhancers to boost strength and speed, which he passed on to Bredan and Glori respectively. The bard kept looking at hers, holding the vial up to the torch so that the pale amber liquid sparkled in the light.

"Can we keep moving now?" Kosk asked. "I'd like to be clear of this bloody place before bloody nightfall."

"I thought monks were supposed to be patient," Bredan said. "That you can meditate for days without moving a muscle, that sort of thing."

"Brother Stonefist has been working on his patience," Quellan said. "Very intently."

"You have no idea," the dwarf muttered under his breath.

Taking their prizes with them, the adventurers retraced their steps to the intersection and selected the other fork in the passage. That route also ended in another door, though this one was even more remarkable than the last.

The door was a slab of solid stone a few shades darker than the surrounding walls. This one lacked hinges, pins, or any other apparent mechanism for opening it. The only obvious feature was a narrow slot set at approximately eye level, and as they got closer the torchlight revealed several rows of shallow runes etched into the stone above it, right below the upper lintel of the doorway.

"Are those dwarf-runes?" Bredan asked, squinting to read them in the weak light.

Kosk responded with a snort. "Hardly."

Quellan summoned light again, and with the bright glow clearly revealing the inscription they all studied the strange markings. "I think... it's some form of Old Elvish," Glori said.

"Do you understand that tongue?" Quellan asked.

Glori shook her head. "I recognize the script, but it's a lot different from the contemporary language."

"I thought you were a scholar," Bredan asked the cleric.

"Hey, how many languages do you speak, kid?" Kosk asked.

"I am reasonably fluent in a number of languages, but unfortunately Elvish—old or new—is not one of them," Quellan said.

"So basically, if this is a warning, we have no way of knowing what's waiting for us," Kosk said.

"Would it matter?" Bredan said. "We're going to open it anyway, aren't we?"

"The question is how," Glori said. She gave the door a rap with her knuckles. "Don't think you're going to be able to chisel this one down, not unless we're willing to spend a few weeks here."

"The jade dagger," Quellan said.

"Not a dagger, a key," Bredan said, catching the cleric's meaning. He produced the device and slid it into the slot in the door. It fit perfectly, and after a moment the entire slab began to descend into the floor. The low rumble of some hidden mechanism accompanied the motion until the embedded key reached floor level, at which it abruptly stopped, leaving a low barrier that they could easily step over into the space beyond.

"Bloody hell," Kosk said once the door had descended enough for them to see into the next room.

It was clear that they had finally come to their destination. The room was slightly smaller than the one they had left, an elongated ovoid that they entered at one narrow end. At the far end there was a crude table or altar fashioned out of stone slabs, and atop it rested a fist-sized crystal that caught the light of the torch and flashed it around the room.

* * * * *

Chapter 20

"Is that it?" Bredan asked. "The stone?"

"Yes," Quellan said.

"How do you know?" the smith asked.

"It fits the description," Glori said. "And what else could it be?"

"Didn't the wizard say it would be hidden?" Bredan asked. "That the cult used misdirection?"

"It's really the stone," Quellan said. "I'm not sure how I know, but I can feel its power. It's... remarkable. It feels like... home."

Kosk shot his friend a dubious look. "Keep it together a bit longer," he said. "What are we going to do about that?"

He pointed, and the others realized that they had missed an obvious feature of the room in their intense initial reaction to the sight of their goal. There was a design marked into the floor, a circle roughly five paces across in the middle of the room. This one looked like it was sketched onto the stone rather than engraved into the surface, marked with what looked like some sort of reddish chalk. The runes that made up the design were not in any language any of them knew, but their previous encounters in the shrine made them only more ominous.

"We should deal with that before we try for the stone," Kosk said.

"We can easily get around it," Glori said.

"Don't you remember what happened with those demons?" the dwarf persisted. "How much do you want to bet something awful pops into that circle when we touch the stone?"

"It may not be that simple," Quellan said. "This one is obvious, unlike the other. It could be breaching the circle that summons the guardian. Or it could be set to trigger on contact with the stone... but the circle could keep the thing in check. Summoning circles are often set up like that, to protect whoever is conjuring from the effects of the planar breach—or from the creature that comes through it. Planar bindings can often have wildly unpredictable effects."

"So what you're basically saying is that we could be screwed either way," Kosk said.

"That seems to be the theme of this place," Bredan commented.

Kosk glanced at him then returned his focus to the cleric. "Look, you're the expert when it comes to magic stuff," the dwarf said. "Just make a decision."

Quellan paused a moment. "Leave it be," he said.

They made their way slowly around the perimeter of the room, checking for any sign of traps or other dangers that might be a bit less obvious than the summoning circle. Glori strummed her lyre and again summoned light, letting the sparkling motes drift around the room to brighten every inch of the walls, floor, and ceiling. But their searches found nothing amiss, and they finally ended up in front of the altar.

The magic stone was set upon a small pyramid of metal struts that was partially embedded into the substance of the altar. The artifact appeared to be simply resting there, without any catches or bindings that they could see. It was difficult to examine it closely, as every subtle shift and movement of the torch caused a fresh cascade of reflected light to scintillate off its uneven surface. A search of the altar uncovered no obvious mechanisms either on top of or under it, though they already knew that the Eth'barat had been accomplished at keeping such things hidden.

"All right, let's get this over with," Kosk said. He started to reach for the stone, but Glori stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Let me do it," she said. "I've got the least fighting ability of anyone in the group. If something does pop up, you should all be ready to deal with it."

"Nobody thinks less of you because you're not a fighter," Bredan quickly said. "At least I don't."

"As long as someone does it," Kosk muttered. He took his staff and headed around to the far side of the altar, where he could keep a close eye on the rest of the room. Quellan and Bredan moved to flank the bard, leaving enough distance to maneuver if it became necessary.

"It's a good plan," Quellan said. "Whenever you're ready, Glori."

She nodded and double-checked to make sure her lyre and bow were out of the way. She put the torch down on the edge of the altar, pausing just in case that triggered some kind of trap. But nothing happened, other than the scintillations within the crystal shifting again. She took a deep breath, and after one last glance at the others she reached out and took hold of the stone.

As soon as her fingers contacted the crystal there was a flash of light and smoke similar to the teleportation effect from the room outside. The smoke cleared quickly to reveal another creature.

This one was smaller than even the demons they'd battled before, though like them its flesh had a soft, runny look, like a candle that had been left too close to the fireplace. But this one was otherwise completely different; it had wings that it flapped wildly to keep it aloft, and its flesh was the bright orange of an open flame. That similarity wasn't limited just to its color; its arrival was accompanied by a rush of heat that they could feel even from five steps away.

No sooner had the creature appeared that it flapped its wings and lunged forward. But it hit something, an invisible barrier that rebuffed it. It let out a thin screech and regarded them with an angry look. None of them missed the fact that the barrier coincided with the chalk circle etched into the floor.

When the imp appeared, Glori's hand had clenched reflexively around the stone and she yanked it back. The artifact came free easily, but as she jostled the metal stand they could all hear a clear and decisive click from somewhere inside the altar.

That ominous sound was followed a moment later by an echoing snap from directly above them. The companions looked up just in time to see a trapdoor that all of them had missed swing open on the ceiling. Two oblong objects fell from it, plummeting toward the front of the altar, right toward where Kosk was standing.

The dwarf reacted faster than any of them. He lunged out and snagged one of the objects from the air. It was a clay jug, sealed with a stopper rimmed in wax. Even as he secured it in his arms he tried to swing around and intercept the second, but he was just a scant instant too slow. The second jug struck the front edge of the altar and shattered. Its contents, several hundred metal spheres each roughly the size of a grape, were launched across the room. They bounced off the altar, the floor, and the companions. Others hit the ground and rolled, quickly covering almost the entire floor of the room.

At least a dozen crossed the chalk circle that was keeping the summoned imp penned in.

The creature reacted immediately, flapping its wings again to launch it forward at the adventurers. But even as they lifted their weapons to fight it, the thing opened its narrow jaws wide and unleashed a gout of flame that engulfed the entire space around the altar.

* * * * *

Chapter 21

The four companions dove for cover as the imp breathed a spray of flames onto them. But only Glori had good protection, ducking behind the solid mass of the altar. Both Bredan and Quellan retreated from the flames and got only mildly singed.

But Kosk had nowhere to go. The dwarf ducked and turned, protecting the clay jug in his arms from the flames. He didn't know what it held, but he'd felt the slosh of liquid inside and guessed that whatever it was would only add to their difficulties. He quickly tucked it as far under the altar as he could reach and then rounded on the imp, his staff sweeping up to intercept its attack. The iron-tipped end struck it in the body, but it was only a glancing blow that inflicted little damage. The creature responded by lashing out with one of its hind legs, slashing into Kosk's shoulder with its claws. The heat of its body caused the wounds to sizzle, and the dwarf stumbled and went down, scattering a few dozen of the steel balls as he fell.

Before the creature could finish him off, Bredan lunged forward, sweeping out with his sword. He was moving a bit awkwardly, sliding his feet instead of striding, but that kept him from slipping on the steel balls. The imp saw him coming and started to draw back, but the young smith still clipped its body with the tip of his blade. It wasn't a killing blow, but the sharp steel ripped open a gash in the thing's side, and it let out a sharp squeal that was now obviously a cry of pain. It fluttered back out of his reach, dripping gobs of blood that sizzled as they struck the floor.

Quellan immediately moved to help Kosk, but as he came around the altar the half-orc slid on several of the steel spheres littering the floor. He grunted hard as he caromed off the protruding stone, but as soon as he struck the ground he pushed himself up, crawling forward the last few steps to the fallen monk. His healing magic had been depleted in their earlier confrontations, but he didn't hesitate to take out his own potion and pour its contents down the dwarf's throat. Kosk coughed and gasped but managed to keep the healing liquid down while it worked its magic.

Bredan kept pressing the imp, sliding after it as it flapped awkwardly around the perimeter of the chamber. The creature could have escaped through the open door, but either the magic that had summoned it kept it here or its anger overrode its fear of them. With the need to be careful moving around the smith couldn't easily catch the nimble creature, but the room wasn't big enough to let it escape the long reach of his huge sword. An arrow flashed past it, narrowly missing its globous head, and it chittered an angry remark in Glori's direction before diving to avoid another sweep of Bredan's sword. But its escape had pushed it closer to the others, who were beginning to recover from its initial assault.

"You're running out of room!" Bredan yelled at it.

The imp spun back to face him, and let out a cackling sound that might have been laughter. Bredan frowned and lifted his sword, but before he could launch another attack he felt a wave of heat pass over him. Looking down, he realized that the heat wasn't coming from the creature, or rather it wasn't directly. It was coming from _him_ , or more precisely from his armor, which had begun to glow. That glow quickly deepened into the familiar ruddy color he knew so well from the forge.

He managed to get the coif protecting his head off, tossing the glowing links aside even as they burned his fingers. But he couldn't remove the hauberk that covered his body from neck to hips, and he screamed as the heat seared through his body.

"Bredan!" Glori cried, as her friend collapsed. Without thinking she leapt over the altar and ran toward him, steel balls skittering away as she kicked them. Somehow she managed not to fall, but as she neared the fallen smith the imp turned and dove at her. She had her dagger, but that seemed a pathetic weapon against such a thing.

The imp extended its claws toward her unprotected face. In reflex Glori brought up her hands, including the one that still held onto the stone of the Eth'barat. The crystal seemed to glow in her hand, and against that radiance the planar creature was repelled almost as it had been by the magic circle earlier. It fluttered back, trying to get its bearings.

Something flashed in the air and struck the creature. The imp flinched, and as it spun around Glori could see one of Kosk's knives embedded in the sagging flesh of its torso. The wound seemed to focus its attention again, however, and it came again toward Glori. She lifted the stone again, but this time the little imp kept back and opened its jaws wide to breathe another spray of flames.

Glori flinched back, but before the creature could unleash its magic a loud roar from right behind her startled her and nearly caused her to slip on the unsteady floor. The imp apparently was startled as well, for it aborted its attack and tried to swoop clear of the approaching threat. But it couldn't get out of way in time of the charging half-orc, who shot past Glori and leapt into the air after the fleeing creature. His mace intercepted it with a solid crack of shattering bones. The imp let out a hiss and flopped to the floor, where its body seemed to collapse into a heap of what looked like bubbling magma.

When Quellan saw that his eyes widened. He turned and grabbed hold of Glori, thrusting her in front of him as he turned his back toward the creature. The bard tensed, expecting something terrible to happen, but the remains of the imp just sizzled for a moment and then dissolved into smoke that disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.

"Bredan!" Glori said. She pulled clear from Quellan and ran over to him. The smith was still conscious, but he was obviously in incredible pain. Glori took out her waterskin and sprayed its contents onto his armor. The water hissed into steam, enveloping him for a moment but cooling the armor enough for the cherry glow to fade. She followed that up with a healing spell from her lyre, the magic steadying his breathing and easing the color where his skin had been burned from contact with the hot mail.

"That... what was... that thing?" he asked. "Some kind of demon?"

"A mephit," Quellan explained. "A creature of the elemental planes."

"What... what was that about, with Glori earlier?" Bredan asked. "You acted like it was going to attack again, after you hit it."

The half-orc looked embarrassed. "Ah, well..." he said. "From the accounts I've read, they can, ah, explode when they die."

"Explode?" Bredan asked. "Remind me not to take any more jobs for wizards." He grimaced as Glori helped him up, but he didn't seem to have any lingering effects from his near-brush with death.

"Speaking of jobs, maybe we'd better put an end to this one," Kosk said. The dwarf was moving a bit gingerly as well, shuffling to scatter the lingering steel balls out of his path as he came over to join them. His robe looked as though it had been shoved into a fireplace a few times.

"We'd better take a short rest first," Quellan said. "Our resources are almost depleted, and we're in no state to deal with any more surprises."

The others all looked to Kosk, and for a moment it looked like the dwarf would protest. But finally, he shook his head and said, "Fine by me." He shuffled forward to the nearest wall, and with a grunt slowly slid down against it, then folded his legs in front of him and closed his eyes.

* * * * *

Chapter 22

After resting for about an hour, the companions retraced their steps back through the shrine. Glori kept custody of the artifact, putting it in the special container that Starfinder had given them. That was a wooden box just barely big enough to hold the stone, with faint marks in silver filigree traced upon the panels. After lighting a fresh torch, they set out again.

They were wary of more traps, or another surprise designed to catch someone trying to depart with their prize, but the Eth'barat apparently had already thrown everything they had against them. But as they made their way back up the steps and approached the entry chamber with the now-ruined stone masks, they sensed motion up ahead. Quellan whispered a warning back at the others, but they all knew that whoever it was must have already seen the light from their torch.

When they entered the room, they found a familiar face waiting for them. Arras was examining a small steel axe that she'd apparently found under one of the dead bugbears. None of them failed to notice that she'd flipped the hulking corpse over on her own.

"You missed this," she said, holding up the axe. "A minor enchantment, but valuable nevertheless. Fairly careless, I'd say."

"Were they working for you?" Kosk asked, indicating the bugbears with one hand while the other kept a ready grip on his staff.

"Did you find the book?" Arras asked.

"What book?" Bredan asked. Kosk's face twitched, but he kept his focus on the old woman.

Arras shifted her attention to the smith. She didn't say anything, but after a moment Bredan flinched back. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Never mind," the old woman said. "You can take your rock and go."

Kosk took a step forward. "You'll answer our questions first."

"Or else what?" Arras asked. "Don't bother, I already know the answer. And as amusing as that might be, I have more pressing concerns to attend to."

"Now wait..." Quellan said, but before he could finish his statement the old woman made a small gesture and disappeared.

"Hey, where'd she go?" Bredan asked.

"Magical invisibility, I expect," Kosk said. He held out his staff and walked quickly over to where Arras had been standing, but found only empty air.

"Maybe she teleported away?" Glori asked.

"If she's that powerful, we should be grateful she didn't want to stick around and chat," Quellan said with a meaningful look at Kosk.

"Are you all right?" Glori asked Bredan.

"Yeah. I felt... it was like she was in my head, somehow."

"Another magic spell," Quellan said. "More powerful than I could manage."

"Let's get out of here," Kosk said, and that time none of them disagreed.

The trail down the bluff gave them no difficulty, though they were careful to use their rope again on the descent. They found Arras's camp empty save for some assorted litter; there weren't even any tracks to suggest which direction the mule might have gone. They had only spent a few hours in the shrine, but they all agreed it might be better to remain close to the shelter of the bluff before starting out on the return journey. They still had a few healing potions left in reserve, but they also still had a few lingering injuries that the cleric and bard would be able to treat the next day when they had a chance to recover their spells. Glori explained that the magic in her lyre functioned much like that of a living caster who could cast a certain number of spells each day.

Kosk went over every inch of the old woman's camp and the surrounding area before he joined the others around the fire. She'd even left them some cut wood nearby, so all they had to do was refresh the pit and light it. Glori helped Bredan get out of his armor, wincing as she saw the damage it had done to his clothes during the mephit's magical attack.

"I hope I don't need to tell you to trust my instincts in the future," Kosk said to them. He pointed a finger at Bredan. "If you hadn't raised such a stink earlier, we might have gotten a chance to search the old woman while she was out, and find out what she truly was."

"We're still not sure what she truly was," Glori pointed out. "And she might have just been shamming when you hit her."

"There are some things you can't fake," Kosk said, but he frowned as he considered her words.

"The ends don't justify the means," Quellan said as he unpacked food from their stores. Their packs, at least, had been right where they had left them.

"Well, we got the jewel," Kosk said. "You do have it, right?" he asked Glori.

"Yes. Don't worry, I'm keeping a close eye on it."

"It didn't seem like Arras was interested in it," Bredan said.

"Still, we shouldn't let our guard down until we're back in Crosspath," Kosk said.

"I don't think anyone will disagree with you there," Glori said. She looked serious, but after a moment broke into a wide grin. "You have to admit, though, that we kicked that shrine's ass."

* * * * *

Chapter 23

It was a dreary, blustery day in Crosspath. A steady drizzle had kept up for most of the morning, leaving the streets muddy but not quite sodden. Sharp gusts of wind occasionally swept through the town, rattling shutters and whistling through gaps in old boards. The few folk who were out and about hurried on their business, their heads down and their coats or cloaks tugged tight around their bodies.

Despite the unpleasantness of the day, the four adventurers lingered as they came to the intersection that would take Quellan and Kosk back to the monastery and Glori and Bredan into town. While each of them had known that their quest would end at this moment, the shared bond of their recent experience added a few extra moments of delay before their final farewell.

The meeting with the wizard had gone smoothly and was almost an anticlimax. Starfinder had not asked them for any details of their adventure, and if anything had seemed eager to send them on their way once they had indicated that they had been successful in their mission to recover the stone.

Bredan was still a little bit stunned from that brief encounter and reached down to touch his pouch for about the twentieth time since leaving the wizard's abode. Inside was a linen purse that contained precisely eighty-seven gold and five silver pieces. He hadn't counted it yet, but he had no doubt that the number of coins would be exact. It weighed just a few pounds, but somehow it felt heavier. He couldn't help but think of all the things he could buy with that money, but his resolution to hand it all over to his uncle to rebuild the Karras Forge hadn't wavered.

That thought did remind him of something else, however.

Quellan and Glori were looking at each other, each of them obviously unwilling to put the words to their parting of ways. Not surprisingly it was Kosk who stepped forward first. "Reckon we'd all better be on our way," the dwarf said in a gruff voice.

"Quellan I almost forgot, I still owe you for the crossbow," Bredan said. He started to reach for his pouch again, but the half-orc forestalled him with a raised hand.

"Keep it. It may come in handy someday."

"Yeah, it's not like you needed it on this trip," Kosk noted.

"I suppose this is good-bye, then," Quellan said.

"Come on, it's not like you're heading to a different town," Glori said. "I'll stand you a drink at the Tusk sometime. Assuming that's not forbidden in your order."

"It would be amusing to see them try to enforce such a ban," Kosk said.

"It's been a pleasure working with you," Glori said, thrusting out a hand. After a moment, Kosk shook it.

She turned to Quellan, but before either could say anything they all became aware of a commotion coming from the direction of the center of town. They could hear voices, some of them quite agitated, accompanied by a stream of people who emerged from the town square heading to the outer ring of homes and businesses. They didn't look like they were fleeing some immediate emergency, but the looks on their faces were universally fraught with worry.

"What's all this now?" Kosk asked.

Bredan saw someone he knew and ran forward to intercept him. "Kev, what's going on?"

The young man was dressed in his working clothes—he was one of the hostlers at Cody's Yards—but was clearly flustered. "You haven't heard?"

"We only just got back into town," Glori explained.

Kev gave Quellan and Kosk—but especially Quellan—a long look before his eyes yanked back to Bredan. "A whole army of goblin-folk has invaded the north," the hostler said. "Hundreds of them, maybe thousands! Several villages were burned and a whole bunch of people were killed! The King... they just read his proclamation in front of the town hall."

"What did Dangren have to say?" Kosk asked.

Kev blinked a moment, as if surprised to be asked that question. Glori snapped her fingers to get his attention. "Kev... what was the proclamation?"

"It's an order of conscription... the King's raising an army!"

* * * * *

Book 3: SIDEQUESTS

Chapter 24

Bredan stared into the dancing flames of the campfire and wondered if he'd made the right decision.

The rain had finally let up and it had actually turned out to be a pleasant evening. The lingering light of the sunset ignited the far horizon with a diverse palette of colors. The breeze that stirred the fire was mild, promising a relatively warm night. Bredan could hear the clatter of pots as Quellan cleaned up the dishes from the evening meal in the stream just behind their camp. Glori had gone off to attend to nature's call, though he knew she would be close enough to bring the others quickly if something threatened. Kosk was seated across the fire, but the smith might as well have been alone for all the attention the dwarf gave him. That was fine with Bredan. His thoughts were distracted, and he mentally retraced the steps that had brought him back to the wilds in the company of his former companions.

The reaction in Crosspath to the King's proclamation had been dramatic. Every time that Bredan had gone into town it seemed that it was the only topic of conversation. Among his peers there had been plenty of talk about signing up, taking the King's coin and marching north to do battle with the fierce humanoids that had invaded the kingdom and slain the brave homesteaders of its northernmost province. From the tone of those discussions, many of the town's young men weren't even willing to wait until the royal recruiter arrived with the census roll and the pay chest.

Bredan hadn't let himself get drawn into such talk. He'd been content to give his share of Starfinder's reward to his uncle. The work of rebuilding the forge had already begun, and for several days Bredan found himself working from dawn to dusk and sometimes beyond. There was plenty to do, more than enough to leave him too tired to ponder abstract thoughts, but he still found his mind wandering. He certainly wasn't nostalgic for the Dry Hills or the terrifying confrontations they'd had at the shrine of the Eth'barat, but it was difficult to lose himself in the mundane work of rebuilding the forge after everything that had happened.

His uncle hadn't failed to notice the change. On the third morning after his return, the elder Karras had taken Bredan aside. "I'll be forever in debt to you for what you've done here, boy," he said. "No, I suppose I can't say that anymore. You're a man now, and have been for quite some time. Rather too old to be an apprentice, I wager."

Bredan had been too surprised to say anything. "I was thinking of taking on another boy when we get the forge going again," his uncle had continued. "Business might be a bit slow this winter, what with so many of the younger men heading north. Not really enough work for two smiths."

In hindsight, Bredan could recognize that his uncle had seen his situation more clearly than he had and was giving him a little push in the direction he'd already chosen to go.

He probably shouldn't have been surprised that Glori had come to that realization before he had. When Bredan had run into her in town he'd barely had a chance to tell her about his talk with his uncle before she was planning their trip north. She'd bought some new clothes and a few other assorted things, but still had most of her share of the wizard's gold, more than enough to buy supplies for the long journey to Adelar. Though presumably they wouldn't need to spend too much; the royal proclamation included a directive that businesses along the route provide room and board to recruits that were headed north to join the King's army. The royal recruiter might not make it to distant Crosspath for weeks, but it didn't take Glori long to secure a signed and stamped scroll from the town council that included their names and a list of references.

After all the chatter he'd heard Bredan had expected that they'd be heading north with a large band of recruits. But when the day came the horde of would-be soldiers failed to materialize. The young folk he ran into offered various excuses. There were the demands of the upcoming harvest, family commitments, and a stated desire to wait for the King's man to arrive before signing up. When he and Glori had finally headed to the rendezvous on the eastern side of town, there had been only two others who were waiting to join them.

In hindsight, maybe Bredan shouldn't have been surprised to see them either.

Kosk had looked fit to chew rocks on seeing them, but Bredan thought that Quellan had looked pleased. The cleric and monk were the Abbess's response to the King's proclamation. But just maybe, it occurred much later to Bredan on the road, the odd pair had had as much difficulty fitting back into their lives at the monastery as he had at the forge.

There were no gifts or elaborate farewells this time around, other than some bundles of food that Glori's friends had prepared for them. It seemed like Bredan's folk hero status had already faded. Or maybe it had been something else. He'd noted that the young men who had seemed so eager just days before had gone out of their way to avoid taking notice of the small company as it left Crosspath and set out on the long and lonely road north. Maybe they'd resented him because he alone of the men his age in town, the only one who hadn't bragged of war and adventure, had actually set out on that road.

The first few days of their journey had passed swiftly and unremarkably despite the weather, which remained rather dismal. But they all had waterproof cloaks and good boots, all save for Kosk, who didn't seem to care how dirty his feet got. For a time he even removed his sandals and walked barefoot, his thick toes squelching in the mud.

The north road was hardly well-traveled and they'd only met a handful of other travelers, but they also didn't run into any bandits or monsters. On the first three days of travel their only potentially dangerous encounter was with a giant boar, but the creature ran off into the trees at their approach. Kosk had muttered at missing a chance to improve their rations, but Bredan had been secretly happy; he'd only gotten a quick look at the beast but it had possessed tusks as long as his arm. They had passed through several settlements, but they had all been tiny villages or hamlets, nothing approaching the size of Crosspath.

A heavy trudge of boots through the mud announced Quellan's return to the camp and brought Bredan back to the present. A moment later Glori appeared from the opposite direction and happily sidled up to the fire. Quellan handed Bredan's iron pot, now clean, back over to him. They had so quickly fallen back into their usual patterns that it almost felt to Bredan like they were old traveling companions rather than near-strangers who had first met less than two weeks ago.

"How long do you think it will take us to get to Adelar?" Bredan asked.

Both Quellan and Glori started to respond; after a moment the half-orc shrugged and gestured for her to continue. "A week I'd say, maybe less if the sun comes out and the road dries out a bit," she said. "We haven't gotten very lucky with the summer storms thus far."

"Winter storms would be a lot worse," Kosk said.

"That is certainly true," Glori said.

"Are there more settlements along the way?" Bredan asked.

Kosk let out a snort. "Miss your warm bed, boy?"

"There's nothing wrong in preferring a bed to the ground, or a hot meal in a common room to trail stew," Bredan said. "No offense meant to your cooking, Quellan."

"None taken," the cleric said.

"The locals out here won't be welcoming to folk like us," Kosk said. "Out here in the wilds, strangers mean potential danger."

Bredan hadn't missed the looks they'd gotten in the tiny settlements they'd passed through thus far, especially the looks sent the half-orc's way. "We're on the King's business."

Kosk snorted again. "Aye, and look how much that's gotten us thus far."

"It's too bad we're not in the eastern part of the kingdom," Glori said. "In the Liir Valley there are towns the size of Crosspath every few days on the main road, with decent inns filling out the gaps. Between the King's writ and my own skills, I doubt we'd have paid for a room or a meal the entire trip north."

"Might as well wish for a magic carriage to pop out of the aether and carry us off," Kosk said. "It's only rough lands between us and our destination, with equally rough people living on them. Marks on paper or sweet songs won't sway them, only hard coin and hard words."

"As always, your words offer inspiration to us in our journey," Glori said dryly.

"It's only truth," Kosk said.

"I wonder what's happening right now, in the north," Bredan said.

"Nothing good," Kosk said.

"I know you see me as a smith who only plays at arms," Bredan said. "But I do understand what war is. My uncle was a soldier." _And my father_ , he didn't add.

"This won't be like any war you know," Kosk said. "Not against this foe." He looked like he was going to say more, but he glanced over at Quellan and abruptly fell silent.

"Kosk is right," Quellan said. "Goblinoids are not like the civilized races. They care only about raw power and bare self-interest. In that they are much like the orcs. I fear that the only resolution to this crisis will be the utter destruction of these invaders, with no quarter asked or given on either side."

Quellan's statement killed the conversation and the companions sought out their bedrolls. It was Bredan's turn to keep first watch, and Kosk sent him a long, meaningful look before he wrapped himself in the thin drape that was his only protection from the night chill and went to sleep. Bredan hadn't fallen asleep again on watch since that one time near the shrine, but on this night he doubted he'd have any trouble staying awake, not after the conversation they'd just had. He remembered the dead bugbears they'd encountered in the shrine. He tried to imagine one of those huge creatures alive and coming for him with an axe. The shudder that passed through him had nothing to do with the night chill.

Careful not to make any noises that might disturb the others, he took up his sword and moved off a short distance from the campfire to begin his vigil.

* * * * *

Chapter 25

Northpine didn't look like much at first glance.

They smelled the village before they saw it, the familiar tang of wood smoke underlaid with the more tantalizing smells of cooking. Those smells added a spring to tired legs at the prospect of a lunch that didn't come from their preserved rations.

The road took them around a gentle curve that wound between two lightly forested hills, and then the village was spread out in front of them. It wasn't very large, maybe two dozen assorted wooden structures scattered among a patchwork of fields full of ripe crops and pastures where animals cropped the rich summer grass. There was no wall around the village, but the companions could see the subtle signs of the frontier in the narrow windows and reinforced doors on the houses. Most of the roofs were thatch, though several larger structures in the center of the settlement had shingle roofs and actual glass in the windows, suggesting at least a general prosperity.

There was a crowd that had to represent a considerable percentage of the village's population gathered in front of one of those buildings. A few men standing on its raised porch were addressing the crowd. The adventurers were too far away to hear what was being said, though they could feel the general sense of disquiet in the scene.

"I wonder what's going on down there?" Bredan asked.

"None of our business," Kosk said.

"Are you guys from the Baron?"

They all turned to the side of the road, where a human boy they somehow hadn't noticed emerged from the shade of a tall oak tree. He couldn't have been more than ten or eleven, and was dressed in simple clothes that bore the usual allotment of stains and rips typical for one his age.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?" Kosk growled. His growl deepened when Glori reached out and smacked him on the arm.

"We're not with the local baron," she told the boy. "We're not even sure who the local baron is, actually. We're headed north to answer the summons from the King."

The boy looked disappointed. "Yeah, they said it would be at least a week, but I thought maybe you might be sent to help."

"What's happening here?" Quellan asked. "Why do you need help?"

If the boy was fazed by the half-orc's appearance, he didn't show it as he hurried forward to join them. "It's Caric," he said. "He's gone missing."

"Not our business," Kosk muttered, but this time the comment was barely audible.

"Who's Caric?" Glori asked. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"He's just a kid," the boy said.

"As opposed to..." Bredan said, but Glori silenced him with a look. "I'm Glori, and this is Bredan, Quellan, and Kosk. What's your name?"

"I'm Indel."

"And how long has Caric been missing?"

"A couple of days. They sent word to the Baron for help, but they said it would be a week until we heard anything back, since he's way over in Eastfork."

"Who's 'they'?" Quellan asked.

"The local council. Come on, I can show you."

It seemed obvious where they were going, but they let the boy lead them. Glori asked him a few more questions about the missing child, but Indel wasn't able to add much more information. Caric and his mother lived together on the outskirts of the village, and there hadn't been any signs of a violent abduction or an unfortunate run-in with some passing predator. Apparently, such encounters were not unheard of, which explained the local architecture.

Their arrival created a bit of a stir. There were almost a hundred people gathered in the village center, and their looks of uncertainty and worry were not eased by the arrival of four armed strangers. Indel walked with them, no doubt soaking up the adulation of his peers for being associated with such notable visitors, until a woman who was obviously his mother rushed forward from the crowd and pulled him away.

The villagers drew back as the adventurers approached, leaving an open route to the men waiting on the porch of what appeared to be the local inn. The other structures around the village core were typical and included a smithy, a general store, a small stone temple that bore the sun sigil of Sorevas, and a handful of houses. It looked as though almost everyone in the village was present here.

Many of the whispers that went through the crowd were accompanied by alarmed glances at Quellan in particular, but the half-orc pretended not to notice and led them straight toward the waiting notables. The local leaders were all humans, though there was a dwarf clad in the familiar attire of a smith in the forefront of the crowd who watched their approach with interest. Another man in a robe who had to be the local priest recognized Quellan's sigil and whispered something to his neighbor, a young man in rich clothes who wore several silver rings on his fingers.

One of the leaders, a man in his fifties who wore a sword on his hip, came down the porch steps to meet them. "I'm Erron Laddrick, the local constable," he said. "Who might you be?"

"My name is Quellan Emberlane," the cleric said. "My companions and I are headed north in response to the King's call."

Laddrick nodded; obviously news of the proclamation had reached this village. "So you're just passing through?"

Quellan looked at each of his companions in turn. Kosk looked sour but resigned, Bredan uncertain. But Glori showed no doubt whatsoever as she stepped forward and said, "Actually, we're here to help."

* * * * *

Chapter 26

The back room of the Gray Oak Inn was quite cozy and comfortable, even though it was a bit crowded at the moment. The members of Northpine's village council sat along one side of the large oval table that dominated the room, facing the strangers who had offered their aid tracking the missing boy.

However, it was becoming clear that there was no consensus on exactly how to do that.

"We've had trouble with bandits in the Kilmar Hills before," Laddrick was saying. "We know we're far off the beaten path, and there are back roads and trails that never see a patrol. Over the last few months we've heard reports of travelers that have gone missing, and only two weeks ago one of our local hunters was found dead with an arrow in his chest."

"Romon Cordrim," Mayor Greenswald said. The elected leader of the council was a retired farmer, still hale despite the fact that he had at least a decade on Laddrick and had clearly spent a life at hard labor outdoors. Thus far he'd been content to let the others do most of the talking.

"Yes," Laddrick said. "So you can see why there's a sense of alarm here."

"Why would bandits grab a child?" Glori asked. "Ransom?"

"We haven't received any contacts or demands," Comoran said. The cleric of Sorevas was younger than he'd looked at first glance, though the others had said he'd been the resident priest for the last three years. "And the Garsons don't have much." As he spoke he glanced over at Derik Anthernon. Anthernon was what passed for a local lord, the patriarch of a family that held an estate on the east side of town. Half of the farmers in the village were his tenants. He sat at the end of the table and seemed a bit bored.

"So a search through the hills would seem to be the most likely course," Laddrick said.

"Why haven't you conducted such a search yourselves?" Kosk asked. The dwarf had deliberately seated himself in one of the armchairs next to the hearth rather than with the crowd at the table, but they had no difficulty hearing him.

"The hill country's dangerous," the final member of the council said. Olag Beedlebrim had the _look_ of an innkeeper, down to the stout frame, bulging belly, and the stained apron. He hadn't chosen one of the chairs but was standing near the door, frequently dry-washing his hands in a nervous gesture. "We are all in the militia, and participate in the monthly drills, but of the permanent residents only Sheriff Laddrick and Derik's man Colum have had professional training at arms."

Anthernon tapped his ringed fingers lightly on the table, drawing the attention of the room to him. "While I share the ambition to rid our hills of vermin, especially if said task is to be performed by generous strangers, perhaps a more local search might be more profitable in actually finding the boy."

"You're talking about the Kaseen estate," Greenswald said.

"It's well known that your family has had a long-standing interest in the property," Laddrick said. "Could that be the reason for the suggestion?"

"Perhaps you should give our guests the background, and let them decide for themselves," Anthernon said.

The story turned out to be one of those local scandals that most communities had buried in their histories. The Kaseen had been a notable clan in the region until twenty years ago, when the entire family was found slaughtered in the estate house. Those responsible had never been identified. Since then the place had been left abandoned, though more recent events had contributed to a growing legend that the place was haunted. Ten years ago, a group of four squatters had been found dead in the cellar, without a mark on them. And three years ago, a handful of older boys from the village had visited the site on a dare. While they didn't find any ghosts, three of them later came down with a fever and two died. Since then the estate had been off-limits, even though it had ample cleared fields and a mostly-intact watermill close to the site.

"Why would the missing child go there, if it is forbidden?" Quellan asked.

"Obviously you have not spent much company with young boys," Glori said dryly.

"Has anyone talked to his friends?" Bredan asked.

"Yes, extensively," Laddrick said. "I interviewed half of the people in the village myself. No one had any indication that Caric had expressed any interest in the Kaseen estate." He turned to the priest. "Comoran?"

The young man frowned. "If there are malevolent spirits there, it is possible that they might have been able to lure the boy there."

"It's also possible that the boy's bones are lying in some animal's den," Kosk said.

The look the villagers shared indicated that the thought had occurred to them. "Look, I'll admit that even if Caric is dead, I—we—have an interest in clearing the hills of bandits..." Laddrick began. But he was interrupted by a commotion from outside, quickly followed by a man bursting into the room. The swinging door almost struck the innkeeper, who stumbled back out of the way.

The new arrival was a man who wore the ink-stained robes of a scholar. He was maybe fifty, his neatly-trimmed beard belying an otherwise disordered appearance, as if he'd just gotten up out of bed. He was engaged in an angry exchange with a younger man who wore a chain shirt and a short sword, and who had apparently tried to keep him from barging into the meeting.

"Nordrum, this is a private meeting of the village council," Laddrick said.

"Yes, but what I have to say may be germane to your deliberations," the scholar said. "I entreat just a few moments of this august body's time."

"Let me guess, you have a theory of where the boy went," Kosk muttered, but quietly enough that none of the others head him.

"Oh, very well," Greenswald said.

The guard turned to Anthernon. "Sorry, sir, he got past me."

"It's all right, Colum," the lord said.

When the guard had closed the door, the scholar straightened his robe and nodded to the four adventurers, turning a full circle to include Kosk in his greeting. "You have come to assist in the search for the missing boy?" Without waiting for a response, he went on, "I believe he might have wandered to a ruin in the local area..."

Several of the other councilors let out audible groans at that. Nordrum tried to continue, but Anthernon said, "You've been trying for months to find someone to loot that ruin for you. There's nothing there, just some old rubble."

The sage drew himself up, all affronted dignity. "You speak of matters of which you do not comprehend. There is an eldritch power within that ruin, a magic beyond the ken of modern understanding..."

As the sage spoke, Bredan, Glori, and Quellan shared a look. "That sounds familiar," the bard said quietly.

"Nordrum," Laddrick said. "If you do not have any evidence, real evidence, that the boy might have traveled to those old ruins..."

"I have as much evidence as any of you," the sage said.

"He's got you there," Kosk piped up from his corner.

"Look," Quellan said. "Why don't we go over all of the available options, including everything that you've learned from talking to the village folk. We should also speak to the boy's mother. Then we'll decide where to proceed from there."

* * * * *

Chapter 27

The day dawned unseasonably cool, with gray clouds lingering low over the village. But they didn't deepen into the angry shade that threatened rain, and they began to thin out as the four adventurers left Northpine and headed southeast into the Kilmar Hills.

Their meeting with the council had gone long and had been followed with a largely unproductive interview with the missing boy's distraught mother. By then it had been late enough in the day that they'd decided to stay the night in the village and get an early start the next morning.

The delay had allowed Erron Laddrick to prepare a map of the hills that extended south and east of the village for several leagues. The map wasn't as comprehensive or as detailed as the one that Starfinder had loaned them back in Crosspath, but it included a number of landmarks, including the place where the dead hunter had been found and some of the many trails that wound through the hills. The sheriff had marked several sites where he thought they might find signs of bandits, if in fact they did exist and had a lair within the region. The map even included a suggested route and various places that might serve as a campsite, for even a partial circuit of the region would take them at least a few days.

"This sheriff seems to know his business," Bredan said as they paused to check the map. That was one of the factors that had led them to try his recommended course for finding the missing child first. A search of the area around the Garson farm had turned up no tracks or other clues, so all they had to go on were the various suggestions from the local residents. They'd confirmed that none of the locals had seen the boy or had any clues from before his disappearance that hinted at where he might have gone.

"He served in the local baron's guards for twenty years," Glori said. "He retired as a senior officer and was given the position of sheriff basically as a retirement pension."

Bredan blinked at her. "How do you know that?"

"I asked around," Glori said. "All you really have to do to get to know a place is talk to people."

"You know, we never did learn the name of the local baron," Quellan said.

"It doesn't matter," Kosk said. "Half the locals probably don't even know. It's common out here in the west to find places like this, baronies cobbled together out of half a dozen widely scattered villages."

"I wonder how many men—people," Bredan amended, after glancing over at Glori, "will be heading north to Adelar. Answering the King's call."

"We'll find out when we get there," Kosk said. "Which will be later than we thought, thanks to your bloody soft-heartedness."

"We couldn't just leave these people in their hour of need," Quellan said. "The boy..."

"Is most likely dead," Kosk said, but there wasn't any anger in the statement, just resignation.

With that grim note dogging their steps the companions made their ways into the hills. The Kilmars were rather more pleasant than the Dry Hills. The prevailing winds brought more moisture through these lands, and while they were hardly lush, there were plenty of springs and streams and even some edible wild plants that could stretch their stores and bulk up their evening stews. Their route wouldn't take them that far from the village, following a path through the hills in a broad crescent that would return them to the road half a dozen miles beyond Northpine.

The trail they followed was little more than an old hunter's track, and was almost invisible at places, but Laddrick's map was clear enough that they didn't get lost. They didn't see anything larger than a rabbit—one that fled too quickly for Glori to get a shot off—until late afternoon, when they heard someone approaching on the trail ahead. They were navigating a gully thick with brush, limiting their vision to only about fifty paces ahead of them, but they quickly readied their weapons for a confrontation. By the sudden quiet, it sounded like whoever it was had detected them as well.

"Ahoy the trail!" came a voice from up ahead. "We're just travelers, not seeking trouble!"

"We're not here to give you any!" Kosk replied before Glori or Quellan could offer a more conciliatory answer. "Show yourselves!"

The two parties approached each other warily. The 'travelers' were another quartet, four human men who were clearly equipped to deal with the dangers of the Kilmar Hills. All wore suits of studded leather armor that had clearly seen long use, and two carried short bows in addition to the swords and daggers they all carried. Their leader was a gruff-looking man who had a bushy beard and a hard look that he fixed on the four adventurers as he came forward to greet them.

"Gorus Tholrin," he said. "You're the first travelers we've seen out here. We getting close to the road, by any chance?"

"Quellan Emberlane," the cleric replied. "Keep going this way and you'll hit it by sundown."

"Much obliged," Tholrin said. "You heading east?"

"Not for much longer," Quellan said. "We're looking for a child that's gone missing from one of the local villages. Been gone a couple days now."

"Hmm. That's rough. We haven't seen anyone, but we'll keep our eyes open."

"What brings you west?" Kosk asked.

Tholrin gave the dwarf a look that suggested challenge, but then he shrugged and said, "We're looking to take the King's coin. You've heard the news?"

"Aye," Quellan said. "We were headed north ourselves, before we stopped at the village."

"Well. Hope you find the kid. Safe travels."

"Safe travels," Quellan said.

The two groups moved past each other, each side eying the other before moving on their way. Glori in particular attracted attention, and Bredan moved to stand next to her until Tholrin and his companions were well past and moving out of their view.

"You think they were telling the truth?" Bredan asked.

"About why they're here?" Kosk said. "Could be. They had the look of mercenaries, but the line between 'mercenary' and 'bandit' can be a fluid one at times."

"You sound like you know that from personal experience," Glori said.

Kosk's expression sharpened, but then he turned toward the trail ahead. "Come on, I'd just as soon get well clear of our friends before nightfall, just in case."

Soon after their encounter they turned to the north, following another path that ran parallel to an undulating ridge of exposed granite that rose as high as fifty feet above them. They followed that ridge for the better part of a mile before it turned east and they continued north into a rough landscape of steep hills and exposed outcrops that forced them to follow a meandering course.

"You could hide a hundred bloody bandit gangs in this landscape," Kosk said.

"They need food and water just like anybody else," Bredan said. "This place is too rocky to support a hideout."

The dwarf didn't respond, but he picked up his pace just enough to force them to hurry to keep up. Glori shot Quellan a covert grin, and the cleric smiled back and shook his head.

Night descended swiftly upon the hills, but Laddrick's map remained reliable and they had no difficulty finding one of the campsites he'd indicated. Bredan guessed that they were only maybe five or six miles east of Northpine as the crow flew, but they'd covered two or three times that distance in their meandering hike through the hills. Tomorrow they'd finish their sweep north and then curve left to find the road again, hopefully before sunset.

There weren't any large trees in the rocky part of the hills they were traveling through, but they found enough scrub growth and dry bushes to fuel a small fire. Glori was watching Bredan snap sticks and Quellan unpack some of the edible roots they'd found earlier in the day when she said, "I was thinking more about that Tholrin and his men."

"In my experience, it never ends well when a woman begins a sentence with 'I was thinking,'" Bredan said. That got a snort from Kosk and a stern look from Glori, but Quellan stepped in and asked, "What's on your mind?"

"Just this... where were they coming from? I mean, I haven't heard anything about settlements in these hills, and it sure doesn't look like anyone lives out here."

"Maybe there are some settlements on the other side of the range," Bredan suggested.

"Maybe," Glori said. "But if that's the case, why wouldn't they have just gone east into the Liir Valley? The route there is much easier, basically a straight shot to Adelar."

"What are you saying, that they might be bandits?" Bredan asked. "That we should go back to Northpine?"

"I don't know," Glori said. "Maybe they were just what they seemed to be. After all, Kosk didn't punch any of them, so maybe they're fine."

The dwarf didn't respond to the jibe. "We should finish our sweep," he said. "If they were bandits, they clearly didn't have the boy with them, and maybe they've got a hiding place somewhere around here. We can check if they came through Northpine when we get back, and if not we can worry about..."

He didn't get a chance to finish, as a high-pitched voice called out from the darkness beyond the ring of firelight, "Hello the camp!"

The companions grabbed their weapons and scrambled to their feet. "Who's there?" Quellan called out.

"Just a humble traveler," came the return.

The four companions shared a look. "Did they follow us?"

"That doesn't sound like Tholrin," Glori said. "Though we didn't hear any of his companions speak."

"That fire looks nice and warm," the stranger said. With the firelight surrounding them, even those with darksight couldn't see anything more than a vague shadow well back from the camp.

"Come forward into the light," Quellan said.

The figure approached, and was revealed to be a reedy figure of a human, draped in a dark cloak that looked to be a size or two too large for him. One look was enough to confirm that he was not one of the mercenaries they'd encountered earlier that day; this person looked about as dangerous as the rabbit they'd spooked earlier in the day. He didn't carry any obvious weapons, though the cloak was big enough to conceal almost anything under its generous folds. He came to a halt right on the edge of the firelight and regarded them with a placating grin.

"Who are you, now?" Kosk asked.

"My name is Orin Lesar."

"I don't reckon you've come to take the King's coin as well," the dwarf said.

"King? What king?" Orin asked.

The four companions shared a look. "Um... King Dangren," Glori said. "The King of Arresh? The kingdom you're in right now?"

"Oh, that king!" Orin said with a wild giggle that had the others sharing glances again. "Oh, is that stew you're making? I'm famished!" He shuffled forward quickly enough that Quellan stepped aside before he had a chance to think better of it.

The others circled back around the fire as Orin seated himself on a rock beside the fire. The light from the flames flickered in his eyes. As he smiled up at them they could see that he was missing several teeth, and the ones that remained were blackened with decay.

"Um... where did this guy come from?" Bredan whispered to Glori. The smith still had his big sword in his hand, though he left it in its scabbard.

"I have no idea," the bard whispered back. She likewise held onto her bow tightly, an arrow clutched in her other hand.

Kosk was on the other side of the fire and hadn't heard their exchange, but he clearly had the same thoughts on his mind. "So where are you from?" he asked.

"Oh, here and there," Orin said. He didn't seem to be alarmed at their manner, or the weapons they still held openly, but as the companions spread out Glori's cloak fell open and the firelight caught on her lyre. The strange traveler's eyes fixed on it at once. "Silver," he said. "I thought I smelled silver."

"Excuse me?" Glori said, flicking her cloak protectively over her instrument.

"I hate silver," Orin said, his lips twisting back into a snarl.

"Look, friend," Kosk said. "Maybe you'd be better off finding your own camp."

Orin tore his gaze away from Glori and smiled up at the dwarf. "I like it here."

Kosk's expression didn't change, but the others knew him well enough to sense the subtle shift in his mood. "My companions don't like it when I punch strangers in the face, but I'm not sharing my camp with a crazy person. Move along, or there will be trouble."

"Trouble," Orin said. "Trouble." He laughed, a deep cackle that bounced off the surrounding rocks and filled their camp.

"That can't be good," Glori said.

"Actually, I don't think I mind if you punch this guy," Bredan said.

Orin's laughter continued until he was convulsed by it. He wrapped his arms around his side and bent forward until his face was almost touching the ground. The cowl of his cloak fell forward, shrouding him from view, but the cackles continued to issue from within.

"This guy's going to get his skull cracked in a minute," Kosk said. He lifted his staff, but Quellan quickly stepped forward. "He may have a mental illness," the cleric said. "Orin, I think you should..."

The cleric was interrupted as Orin's head shot up.

"Oh, gods," Bredan said.

Their visitor's visage had transformed; the face that regarded them now was pinched and furry, with beady eyes and sharp yellow teeth that protruded from an elongated snout with whiskers that twitched as his chuckles trailed off. He'd produced a weapon, a long dagger that he'd kept concealed behind his back.

"Wererat!" Kosk exclaimed.

"Trouble!" Orin hissed, as he leapt up and attacked.

* * * * *

Chapter 28

Quellan swung his mace at the wererat, but the creature ducked nimbly under the attack and dove forward across the campfire at Glori. She flinched back but managed to draw her bow and release her arrow. The shot struck Orin in the torso but did nothing to slow his violent rush; he landed next to her and let out a high-pitched shriek as he lifted his dagger to strike.

Before Orin could stab her, however, Bredan swept his sword into his torso. The heavy blade caught the wererat solidly and launched him back across the campfire. He was flung into the rocks and rolled to a heap a good five steps away.

Bredan started to lower his sword—nobody could have survived a hit like that—but Kosk yelled, "We're not done yet!"

Bredan looked at his victim and was startled to see the wererat spring back up to his feet, none the worse for wear. The creature darted back nimbly as Kosk lunged at him with his staff, mocking him with another series of cackles as the blows missed. Not that they would have done anything even if they'd hit, Bredan thought, not after the way he'd shrugged off that hit from his sword.

Kosk shifted tactics and tried to grapple the creature, but Orin sprang clear of his grasp and leapt back toward Bredan and Glori. The smith stepped in front of the bard, trying to think of something he could do that would have a chance of affecting this foe. He finally fell back on the sword, trying to knock the wererat into the fire. But again the creature just shrugged off the blow, bouncing up and snapping his jaws around Bredan's forearm.

"Ahh!" Bredan yelled. He tried to shake the wererat loose, but he held on tenaciously. In the meantime, Orin kept stabbing with his knife, but the heavy chainmail proved its value as it absorbed the hits without harm. The creature hissed through his clutch on Bredan's arm and tried to clamber up onto the smith's struggling body to get within reach of his face.

Suddenly the wererat stiffened and let out a hiss of pain. He released his jaws and fell clear. Bredan could see Glori there; she'd used her lyre as a weapon, pressing the silver against the creature's hide. Orin snarled and lunged at her.

A beam of soft light struck the wererat. It came from Quellan's holy symbol, which the cleric had held out like a divine talisman. The pale radiance sparkled and did no harm as it brushed over Bredan and Glori, but the creature screamed and fell back as if scorched by fire. The glow continued to shine around Orin as he stumbled back to the edge of the camp. Kosk and Bredan started to follow, but the wererat sprang away from them into the rocks. He flung his cloak over his body. The dwarf and smith reached the spot fairly quickly, but all they found was an empty garment, and angry squeaks that were already fading into the night.

"What... what was that _thing_?" Bredan asked.

"Wererat," Kosk said. "A lycanthrope... a magical combination of man and beast. Dangerous... and cursed." He looked meaningfully at Bredan's arm.

Glori and Quellan came running up to join them. "Did it bite you?" the bard asked.

Bredan held up his arm. Quellan examined it, and they were all relieved to find that while his bracer bore fresh marks from the creature's teeth, they had apparently failed to break his skin.

"You were lucky," Kosk said. "Such things can sometimes pass on their curse by biting or scratching their victims."

Bredan shuddered. "Do you think it'll come back?"

Kosk shrugged. "They're cowardly like rats. They can only be hurt with silver and magic, and we've proven we have both, so maybe it will keep running."

Bredan stared out into the darkness, hardly reassured.

As they made their way back to the reassuring light and warmth of the fire Glori turned to Quellan and asked, "What was that light you called?"

"Moonfire," the priest said. "Its radiance is anathema to creatures that violate the natural order."

"Good thing for us that Hosrenu responded to your call," she said.

* * *

The cave was cramped and dismal, the single torch burning low in a niche in one wall doing little to push back the gloom. The single figure that sat in a sagging wooden chair made the place seem even smaller, especially when he reached out and his hand enveloped the stein that sat on the table next to him. A large double-bladed axe sat propped up against the wall within easy reach.

A shadow materialized in the mouth of the passage that led to the room. It lingered there a moment until the huge figure looked that way.

"What did you hear?" the man with the axe asked.

The shadowy figure came into the room. The torchlight didn't do much to reveal details of his form. He was clad in a patchwork coat that looked like it had been crafted from a dozen other garments. Over that he wore an inky cloak that included a cowl that hung low over his face. "Hello to you as well, Jargo. Did you manage to eat all the food and finish the ale while I was gone?"

"Have your little friends scare us up some more," the giant said, punctuating the comment with a deep belch.

"I fear our allies' resources are quite nearly depleted," the cloaked man said. He walked past the table and peered into the darkness that filled the back of the cave. As he moved past the torch the cloak briefly fell back to reveal a hand that was covered with an ugly hybrid of scales and tufted bristles of black hair. "How is our guest?"

"Alive," Jargo said. He lifted his cup and drained the last of its contents.

"I received word from the north," the cloaked man said.

"Yeah?"

The other waited to see if more questions would be forthcoming, and finally sighed. "We may need to relocate."

"Why? We got a good setup here, Cthel."

"War is coming to Arresh. Such things bring opportunity. More opportunity than the occasional wagon or unlucky traveler." He lifted a hand, and metal clinked in his palm.

That got the big warrior's attention. "So what do you suggest?"

"There's going to be a lot of men heading north. Men who would otherwise be guarding settlements, or protecting caravans. Softer targets, soon. We play our cards correctly, we can make a few big scores, then be on our way before anyone's the wiser. Big enough that we can set ourselves up nicely somewhere far away from here. Someplace with finer... accommodations."

Jargo grunted at that, but it was clear that his companion's suggestions had drawn his interest. "And what about our prisoner?" he asked.

Both men turned to stare into the darkness, where a pair of eyes was just visible on the very edge of the torchlight, watching them in turn.

Cthel appeared to consider for a moment. "Our guest is still valuable for the moment," he finally said. "But if we have to leave suddenly... well, sometimes one must sacrifice a small boon in the cause of gaining something greater."

He laughed, a harsh, jarring sound that echoed uncannily off the walls of the cave.

* * * * *

Chapter 29

Orin Lesar did not return, but they hardly spent a restful night and got a late start the next morning. Fortunately, the difficult ground they'd been covering grew easier around midmorning, and they passed into a series of rolling hills covered in scrub with light forest in the spaces between. Water was again easily located and they were able to both refill their bottles and wash off the dust of their hike.

It was still early when they came to one of the campsites that Laddrick had marked on his map. It was located in a sheltered nook surrounded by large boulders in the lee of a slightly larger hill. It was close to a small spring that fed a trickling stream that ran down the lower slope of the hill until it culminated in a pool about ten paces across.

Laddrick had marked the site as one occasionally visited by hunters and trappers that operated in the hills. But it was clear from even a cursory examination that the campsite had been used recently, and not by common hunters. The dull red stains that marked the rocks in a number of places were faded but recent, given that the recent rains hadn't washed them away. And Glori found something else, a broken arrow that apparently had shattered on the rocks.

Kosk examined the arrow. "This isn't civilized work. Humanoids, maybe."

"Over here, there's some tracks," Bredan said.

They all went to take a look. The tracks were scattered around the campsite. The marks were faint, too faint to make out much about them, but they could all see that the prints were significantly smaller than any they left behind.

"What do you think, goblins maybe?" Bredan asked.

Kosk frowned at the marks. "I don't think so. But I'm not sure, the ground's too hard here. Too much stone."

"Can we see which way they went?" Quellan asked.

Bredan began widening his search, but another few minutes of searching didn't turn up any more clues. "Thus far we've found some mercenaries and a half-rat, half-human crazy man," he said. "But no bandits, and no missing boy. I doubt the kid would have survived ten minutes if he'd been dumb enough to come into these hills. Should we go back now?"

"We haven't finished checking all the places on the sheriff's map yet," Glori said. "And what about those tracks you found?"

"Those could have been anything," Bredan said. "And do you really think the kid made it this far out?"

Kosk had unrolled the map, and Quellan bent to look over his shoulder. "We've still got a lot of day left, and there's another possible location not far from here marked on the map. We'll go that way, see if we find any more tracks or other signs of who visited this place and left blood behind. If we don't find anything we can still cut back to the road before nightfall."

The only tracks they found leaving the trappers' camp were some marks that headed north. They rocky landscape soon gave way to a wooded valley. The trees grew more closely together there than they had encountered previously, but that actually helped them maintain a quick pace as the dense undergrowth that had forced previous detours was largely absent. At first Bredan spent a lot of time looking for tracks, but then Glori pointed out that there was only one likely way that a traveler coming this way could have gone; the sides of the valley were steep and nearly vertical in places, promising a difficult climb up to the level of the surrounding hills.

They passed another two streams before the ground began to slowly rise again. They filled their water bottles again but then pressed on, intent on finishing their sweep before the day ended and forced them to spend another night in the hills. Bredan guessed that less than an hour had passed since they'd left the old camp before the trees thinned out and the valley walls drew back to reveal another broad open space ahead.

The sun had broken through the clouds while they had been in the forest, and the sudden brightness blinded them for a moment until their eyes adjusted. To the west and east two rows of lightly wooded hills marched forward like sentries, while directly ahead of them the ground rose in a gentler slope to a low hilltop a few hundred yards away. The hillside was covered with rocks that had choked off all growth except for the usual weeds and the occasional enterprising bush that had found enough soil to take root.

"Great, more climbing," Bredan groused.

"Let's see what we can see from up there," Quellan said. "We must be close to the site that Laddrick indicated."

"Seems like if I was looking for a place to build a camp I would have chosen the valley," Bredan said. "It had shade, water, shelter..."

"Exactly," Kosk said. "So if there's danger here we're not seeing it. Keep an eye out."

They started up the rise. Even with the lack of growth and the relatively easy slope the uneven scatter of rocks made the climb slower and more difficult than it otherwise would have been.

They were about halfway to the top when Bredan paused to shift his mail coif and wipe his brow. Now that they were in direct sunlight he was starting to sweat profusely under his armor. Glori paused and looked back at him. "You okay?"

"I'm starting to feel like I'm back in the forge," he said. "Look, do you really think we're going to find..."

He didn't get a chance to finish, as he was interrupted by an arrow that thudded into his shoulder. For a moment he just stared down at it, the feathered end of the shaft quivering for a moment before he felt the burning pain spread out from the point of impact. He sucked in a breath to call out a warning, but this time Glori beat him to it.

"Ambush!" she warned.

* * * * *

Chapter 30

The companions scattered and dove for cover. None of the scattered rocks were big enough to offer much protection, but dropping prone presented their unseen attackers with smaller targets. That proved a wise course a moment later as a second arrow shot by above them, followed a moment later by something small and hard that bounced off a rock with a loud "ping."

"Are you okay?" Glori asked Bredan. The smith's pack bulged up, revealing his location, but it actually offered some protection against fire from above. "Hold still, I can come to you with healing."

Bredan held up a hand as she started to get up. "No, I'm fine," he said. He yanked the arrow out, carefully unhooking the head from the metal links of his mail. "It barely penetrated my armor." It stung like fire, but he tried to ignore that for the moment. He held up the arrow so she could see the familiar shape of it. "Guess we found our bandits after all."

"Did either of you see where the shots came from?" Quellan asked. He and Kosk were above ten steps further up the slope, the dwarf almost invisible in the scattered weeds, the massive half-orc somewhat less so.

"No," Glori said. "The shot had to come from somewhere up there, though," she said, indicating the summit of the hill.

Bredan shrugged off his pack, flinching as another arrow shot past him. But it missed by at least five paces, and he quickly reached for his crossbow.

"That's it, draw their fire," Glori said. He glanced over at her and saw she had her bow already prepared, with an arrow fitted to the string. She shot him a grin and winked.

"Yeah, draw their fire," Bredan said, taking a bolt out of the case.

"There!" Quellan said, as a tiny head popped up from the rocks about a hundred feet up the slope. Glori fired at about the same time as another arrow arced down from above, but the thing had disappeared again by the time her shot reached it. Its arrow in turn landed in the rocks about twenty paces away from any of them.

"They're not very good shots," Glori said.

"Yeah, not very good at all," Bredan said dryly, wincing as a fresh jolt of pain shot through his injured shoulder. He'd gotten his bow loaded, and lifted his head slowly while he scanned for targets.

But before he could locate an enemy, Kosk abruptly stood up. The dwarf was muttering something under his breath and looked disgusted. Without waiting for his companions, he started running up the slope.

"Kosk!" Quellan shouted, but the dwarf ignored him. The cleric rose and started after him, his shield raised to protect his face and body. The proved to be a wise precaution as a sling bullet bounced off it, making a clatter as it ricocheted off the stones of the hillside.

"Okay, I guess we're doing this," Glori said. She launched one more arrow at the enemy position, then stood and rushed after them. Bredan had no choice but to follow.

As they ran up the hillside, they could see that there were in fact _two_ such positions, separated by maybe fifty feet. The little heads of their foes popped up and down in a manner that might have been humorous if not for the deadly missiles they launched each time. Kosk drew most of their fire as the unarmored dwarf pulled ahead of his companions, but either the creatures weren't very good at hitting a moving target or the monk was proving extremely lucky, as none of the shots even came close to connecting. Finally, the attacks stopped as the dwarf approached the nearer of the two positions. But instead of waiting for his companions to join him, Kosk leapt forward and suddenly dropped out of view.

"Kosk, wait!" Quellan yelled, some obvious frustration creeping into his normally even tone. Grunting with the effort of charging up the slope, the cleric gestured with his mace. "Check the other one!" he shouted back to Glori and Bredan.

Bredan ignored the sweat running down his back and gathering under the armor protecting his brow and veered after Glori. It didn't take them long to check the sniper post, a small pit dug into the hillside. Rocks had been carefully arranged to provide cover and concealment without revealing their presence to anyone coming up from below. The two peered into the hole, shared a quick look, and then hurried over to rejoin Quellan.

The second hole was just like the first, down to the low, narrow tunnel opening in the bottom. "The other one's the same," Bredan said. "Except there's a little dead reptile-man in it with one of Glori's arrows stuck in its head. Nice shot, by the way," he said.

"Lucky shot," Glori said. "Kosk went in after them?"

"It would seem so," Quellan said.

"What are those things?" Bredan asked.

"Kobolds," Quellan said.

"We'd never fit in there," Bredan said. "Even without our armor it would be a tight squeeze."

"I know," Quellan said. His whole body seemed tense with the need for action.

"I can fit," Glori said.

Both men turned on her. "No, no way," Bredan said.

"We can't just leave him in there alone," Glori said.

"Hey, he chose to run off by himself..." Bredan began.

"Look!" Glori said. They followed her gaze and just caught a glimpse of another reptilian head another hundred paces or so up the hillside before it dropped out of view.

"There must be another entrance up there," Quellan said.

"Go on," Glori said. "I'll follow Kosk, and meet up with you up there."

"But..." Bredan persisted.

"Look, I promise if I run into trouble I'll run back as fast as I can. I know I'm not a warrior, okay?"

"You're as brave as any warrior I've ever met," Quellan said.

She smiled at him, then drew her dagger and jumped into the pit. Without another look back, she bent low and crept forward into the tunnel.

"Come on," Quellan said to Bredan, and the two resumed their climb up the hill.

* * * * *

Chapter 31

Glori was not a fan of tight spaces.

The kobold tunnel was not that difficult to navigate, though she had to keep her head low and walk in a sort of shuffle. She regretted not taking off her backpack but decided not to stop to remove it. She could hear faint sounds from up ahead but couldn't quite identify them.

As she left the light of the hillside behind, her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The gift of her father's heritage let her see more or less clearly, though there wasn't anything to see except for the irregular line of the tunnel heading deeper under the hill. There were wooden beams supporting the passage at regular intervals, but she still wondered just how good kobolds were at building.

After about forty feet, the tunnel turned sharply to the left. As soon as she reached the bend, she saw a kobold waiting for her. She jumped in surprise, although the creature was lying motionless on the floor of the passage, its head lolling at an awkward angle. She approached warily and prodded it with her dagger. It was dead, its neck broken.

The tunnel ahead had grown eerily silent. "Dwarves," she muttered to herself before resuming her exploration of the kobold complex.

The tunnel seemed to go on forever, but she knew that was just an illusion created by her own hyperactive mind. It twisted slightly back and forth, keeping her from seeing very far, but finally she saw an open space ahead. She hesitated for a moment but still didn't hear anything.

When she shuffled into the room her eyes widened in surprise.

Four more kobolds had met their end here. The room wasn't very big, and was set up as a small guardroom. The furnishings were crude and sized to the kobolds, and had been scattered in disarray. One of the chairs had been shattered into fragments, and a dead kobold was lying in the wreckage. The iron scent of freshly spilled blood filled the room.

There were three other exits. To her right there was a small opening blocked by a wooden grate. To her left was another passage similar to the one she'd just navigated, which she guessed probably led to the other sniper position she and Bredan had scouted. On the far side of the little room was a rough-hewn staircase that led up. She headed in that direction, careful of the corpses in case any of them were not quite finished.

None of the kobolds moved, but she saw a wet glistening on the blade of the dagger that one of them carried. She saw more blood in spatters as she made her way to the steps.

Kosk hadn't gotten past these guards unscathed.

That thought was confirmed as she found an empty potion vial on one of the steps. She didn't need to check to know it was one of their potions of healing. There were more smears of blood on the steps, and a few marks on the wall where the monk had probably leaned for support on his climb.

She started up, slowly, but then heard a sharp shriek of pain from up ahead. It didn't sound like it had come from the dwarf, but she found herself running anyway, grimacing as her elbows scraped against the walls of the narrow ascent.

At the top of the stairs another tunnel continued in what she guessed was roughly the direction of the hilltop, though it was easy to get turned around in these meandering corridors. She hoped that Bredan and Quellan had found another way into the kobold complex, and that she was heading toward them rather than toward another ambush. She was acutely aware that the passages she'd bypassed meant that more of the creatures could be behind her.

The passage briefly widened into a slightly larger space. It resumed directly ahead, but to her right there was a scattering of gear next to a ledge that dropped off into darkness. Glori could hear sounds coming from below, shuffling noises accompanied by low squeaks. She edged over to take a look.

The ledge overlooked a small round space maybe ten feet across. The drop was only about six feet. She saw that the sounds she heard were coming from a huge, fat pig.

She picked up a loose pebble and tossed it down. "Hey, pig!" she hissed.

The stone bounced off the pig's head. It looked up and grunted at her.

A sudden loud clang of metal on stone caused her to jump again. It came from the far passage and sounded close. Thinking of the dwarf's staff and its iron tips, she hurried forward.

The tunnel began to ascend slightly, just enough for her to notice the grade. It continued to twist, so that she couldn't see more than fifteen or twenty feet ahead at a time. That kept her from seeing Kosk until she almost ran into him.

The dwarf had been facing away from her, but he spun quickly and swept his staff up toward her face. Glori flinched back, but at the last moment the iron-tipped end came to a stop with maybe a hand's span to spare.

"You shouldn't be down here," Kosk growled. He stepped back, but Glori could see that he had to lean against the wall for support. There was another kobold lying on the ground just past him. There was another bloody knife lying next to its hand, indicating that it had gotten another piece of the monk before it had died.

It looked like Kosk had lost many such pieces already. His robe was gashed in a number of places, and covered in bloodstains.

"You're crazy," she said. "Rushing in here alone."

"It will take more than a bunch of kobolds to put an end to me," Kosk said. When Glori sheathed her dagger and unlimbered her lyre he said, "I'm fine."

"You're about to collapse from blood loss, you stubborn fool," she said. She played a soft melody that invoked the healing magic of the lyre, channeling its power into the injured dwarf. He took a deep breath as the magic took hold and eased the worst of the damage he'd sustained.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

"They went around. We think there's another entrance further up the hill."

"You came down here alone?"

She shot him a look. " _You're_ going to second-guess me? Really?"

"Never mind. Come on, there was one more that got away."

Without waiting for a response Kosk started forward again, forcing Glori to hurry to keep up. As she stepped over the dead kobold she said, "You must really hate these creatures."

"They're vermin," the dwarf said without looking back.

The tunnel continued its gradual ascent. Glori was beginning to think that they would pass through the entire hill when they came around another slight bend to see the reassuring glow of daylight ahead. Kosk was still going at full tilt up the passage and was quickly pulling ahead of her.

"Wait, damn it, just wait!" Glori said.

The dwarf didn't stop, but he slowed just enough for Glori to catch up to him. She reached the bright exit only a few steps behind him, and emerged into daylight.

They were in a round canyon roughly thirty feet across. The cliff walls that ringed them were almost twenty feet high. There was another tunnel on the far side of the canyon roughly opposite where they'd come in, and another opening to its left, a narrow ledge about ten feet off the ground. The late-afternoon sunlight didn't reach the canyon floor, but after the absolute dark of the tunnel it took their eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Because of that moment of adjustment, Glori didn't immediately see the kobold that appeared on the ledge, but she caught the hint of motion when it lifted its bow and aimed another of the stubby arrows directly at her heart.

* * * * *

Chapter 32

Glori froze as the kobold archer took aim at her. She knew she should look for cover, but there wasn't anywhere to hide.

But before the kobold could unleash his missile, a loud, deep cry drew her attention up to the rim of the canyon. She was startled to see a large armored form come hurtling down out of the sky. The kobold saw it too, and flinched back. It dove for the tunnel mouth at the back of the ledge, but just as it reached that escape the descending figure landed on the ledge. Glori couldn't see if the kobold had been crushed or simply knocked into the tunnel, but she did see Quellan bounce off the solidity of the cliff wall and totter backward. For a moment her heart caught in her chest as he hung there on the very edge, half his body tilted out over the empty space below, but then he managed to recover enough to fall forward to relative safety.

Once he was secure, Quellan turned and waved at them.

"And you call me crazy," Kosk said.

"Where's Bredan?" Glori yelled up at the cleric.

"He was right behind me," Quellan said. And as if summoned by the half-orc's words, the smith appeared along the rim of the canyon. He took a less direct route down to the ledge, following a series of faint, almost invisible steps that had been cut into the cliff face.

"Did you get that archer?" Kosk asked.

Quellan nodded. "Broke his back, I think."

"There must be a way up there," the dwarf said. He hurried off again before Glori could stop him, vanishing into the far tunnel. Glori just threw her hands up and followed him.

This tunnel was more spacious than the earlier ones, and Glori found that she could walk fully upright and without scraping her elbows on the walls. The passage continued for about twenty feet before emerging onto another guardroom, similar to the first except for the more generous dimensions. The room was vacant except for a small table and a few chairs, but there were signs that a number of kobolds had been there recently. There were two exits, one that went back toward the canyon and another in the far wall. Kosk took a quick glance at the closer exit before moving over to the other one. For a moment Glori thought he might go charging off again, but he only peered into the passage, careful to remain behind the cover of the corner.

A clank of mail and heavy boots announced the arrival of Quellan and Bredan, who came into the room from the near passage.

"Sorry it took us so long," Quellan said. "The kobolds set some snares on the hillside."

"As far as I'm concerned you came at exactly the right moment," Glori said.

"Are you crazy?" Bredan asked, coming around the room toward Kosk. "Rushing off alone like that?"

"I already told him," Glori said.

"Quiet!" the dwarf hissed, holding up a hand to keep Bredan from stepping into the view of the far passage.

Quellan and Glori sidled around the table to join Kosk. "What's ahead?" the half-orc whispered.

"It's their lair, I think," Kosk said. "Heard a bunch of them skittering around in there before you two louts arrived with all your clanking."

"How many, do you think?" Glori asked.

"Not bloody enough," Kosk said.

Glori stepped forward so she could grab him in case he went charging off again. The dwarf glared at her but didn't move. "Can we maybe think of a plan first, this time?"

"There's only one way in," Kosk said. "One of the outer guards got away from me, they're probably preparing for us as we waste time here. I heard some scraping sounds, they're probably moving furniture to fortify their position."

"Maybe we can negotiate with them," Quellan suggested. "If they have the boy..."

"They're kobolds," Kosk said with disgust. "They're cowards, but they'll fight like devils defending their lair. If they do have the boy, our only chance to save him is to hit hard and hit fast."

"I think... I think I agree with him," Bredan said.

"Right," Kosk said. He looked at Quellan. "You coming?"

Quellan sighed and lifted his shield. "All right. Glori, you said the magic of your lyre could put foes to sleep?"

Glori had already grabbed her instrument. "Way ahead of you."

"Let's do this," Kosk said, but Quellan interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder. "What now?" the dwarf hissed.

"Bredan, you still have that potion we found in the shrine?" Quellan asked.

After a moment the smith nodded. "You might want to drink it now," the cleric said.

* * * * *

Chapter 33

Grisk and his kobolds waited in ambush behind the row of barrels that they'd dragged into the center of the Outer Lair. The reptilian creatures—seven of them—held their weapons and focused intently on the entrance tunnel. Only Kuluk had a bow, but several of the others held small spears that they would throw at the first intruder to appear. Once engaged they would all draw their knives and swarm at the enemy from all directions, darting and slicing until all of their foes were dead.

Grisk glanced back at the tunnel that led to the rear cave. The cave where the great Nuruk had lived when he had been chief of the small tribe. At least until Jargo had ripped his head off with his bare hands.

Grisk couldn't help but shudder at the thought. It was the kobold way, _yield before strength_ , but it still rankled to have turned over the leadership of their tribe to a pair of outsiders. Outsiders who still hadn't made an appearance, though it had been at least fifty pulsebeats since Vurk had gone to warn them of intruders in the complex. They should have been here by now, unless...

"Enemies come!" Kuluk hissed. Grisk turned back, lifting his scimitar. The looted weapon was his most prized possession, though the blade was old and pitted. Shadows shifted in the entrance passage, and the kobolds tensed. Grisk let out a sharp whistle to let the ambush force know to be ready. They were kobolds, they would defend their lair with clever cunning, regardless of what their "leaders" chose to do.

But before the first foe appeared, a loud shout reverberated through the cavern. It sounded louder than anything Grisk had heard before, louder even than Jargo's battle cry. The kobolds all flinched back from that sound, but Grisk quickly urged them back up, knowing what was coming.

He was right, as he lifted his head to see a dwarf and a human come charging into the room with their weapons raised to attack.

* * *

The echoes from Quellan's shout, augmented by a bit of divine magic, were still ringing in Bredan's ears as he rushed into the cavern behind Kosk. But the kobolds looked to be even worse off. A bunch of them were gathered behind a row of barrels arranged directly across from the entrance, not far from a firepit built under a natural chimney that allowed just the faintest hint of natural light into the room. Bredan opened his fist and tossed the pebble that Quellan had enchanted with a light spell across the room. It skittered to the front of the barricade, causing the kobolds to flinch back from the bright glow.

A spear shot past his head, but it flew well wide and struck the cavern wall behind him. Another kobold was trying to get a bead on Kosk with its bow, but even as it drew the string back it slumped to the ground. Several of the other kobolds fell as well, victims of the magical slumber induced by Glori's lyre.

Kosk moved right, coming around the edge of the line of barrels. A kobold darted out to meet him, but had to duck back to avoid getting brained by the dwarf's staff. A second creature tried to come at him from the side, but Kosk spun into a kick that cracked the kobold in the chest and knocked it sprawling. It managed to crawl away, but was clearly badly hurt.

Bredan saw several more of the creatures huddling behind the barrels, including one that had a curved sword almost as big as it was. It was trying to wake up one of its sleeping companions, but on seeing Bredan it let out a squeak and grabbed the sword.

Bredan lunged and delivered a solid kick to the barrel. It toppled over, striking the kobold and knocking it back. The smith lifted his sword and prepared to finish it off, but a shout of alarm from Glori spun his head around.

The bard had followed them into the room, ready to support the warriors with her lyre in her hands. Quellan had rushed to help Kosk, leaving her alone for the moment. She'd moved to the left not to get in the way of the fighting, but that had brought her closer to a narrow side passage that Bredan hadn't immediately noticed in the confusion of the fight. But he noticed it now as another five kobolds rushed from that passage and ran toward Glori with knives gleaming bright in the light.

* * * * *

Chapter 34

As soon as the second group of kobolds appeared, Glori knew that she'd made a mistake. She reached for her lyre, hoping to get a second sleep spell off, but as the first kobold raised its knife, she knew she wouldn't get the chance.

"Glori!" Bredan yelled. She knew he'd be coming for her, but there was no time.

In desperation, she scraped her fingers wildly across the strings of the lyre, unleashing a chaos of sound from the instrument.

She didn't expect anything to happen, but to her surprise the discordant notes built into a wave of sound that erupted outward from her. The pulse caught the first kobold up and physically hurled it across the room. It struck the wall of the cavern next to the passage and crumpled to the ground. The others that had been right behind it were all knocked to the floor. As she stared in surprise she saw that only one of them was moving, and that one was crawling feebly away, leaving a trail of blood that trickled from its nostrils and ears.

She turned to see Bredan staring at her with a look of surprise on his face. But she also saw a flash of movement behind him. "Look out!"

Bredan spun around. His sword barely caught the scimitar that swept out toward the backs of his legs. The kobold's weapon shattered from the impact, and before it could get away the smith swept his huge blade around and severed its head from its shoulders.

The few kobolds left alive were in full flight, rushing or crawling toward the exits. After driving his final foe to the ground Kosk started after them, but he barely got half a dozen steps before a new combatant entered the fray.

Bredan had to do a double-take before he could believe what his eyes were telling him. The figure that strode forward into the room from the far passage was _huge_. He had to be eight feet tall, his head brushing the ceiling of the cavern, his shoulders as broad as a wagon's axle. His features were clearly not human, his skin a mottled gray with a splayed nose the size of a dinner plate and too-large teeth bulging in his mouth. Bredan was reminded of Starfinder's butler, but unlike Mog this creature had a weapon, a huge double-bladed axe that seemed to glow in his hand as it caught the light.

If Kosk was intimidated by this new adversary, he didn't show it. He immediately pivoted toward the giant and swept his staff around toward his left knee. The giant turned into the blow, absorbing the impact on his upper thigh. He countered with a sweep of his axe. In the close quarters he couldn't get his full strength behind it, but the impact still struck the monk with devastating effect. Kosk was lifted off his feet and flung across the room. He landed hard and skidded to a stop near the fire pit. Bredan could see the bright red smear he'd left on the stone floor of the cavern.

Quellan ran to the fallen dwarf's aid, while Bredan stepped forward to confront the giant. The creature took him in with one quick look, noting his mail coat and huge sword, and his lips twisted into a grim smile that highlighted his misaligned yellow teeth.

Then he leapt forward and swung his axe with a loud cry of battle.

Quellan grasped his holy symbol as he knelt beside Kosk. The dwarf's side was still spurting blood from the deep gash just under his ribs. One look was enough to tell the cleric that his friend would die in moments without immediate intervention.

But Quellan did not have a chance to begin his spell before he felt a sudden lance of pain penetrate his side. He reflexively thrust his arm out, connecting with an unseen adversary who was knocked back a few steps. As the cleric turned he saw a figure clad in a dark cloak over a coat made of mismatched fabrics. Their collision had knocked his attacker's cowl back, revealing a visage out of a nightmare. He was humanoid, but his facial features were a confused jumble as chaotic as his coat. One side of his face was covered in uneven tufts of wiry black fur, while the other consisted of gray scales that extended from his jawbone up to his eye. The eyes were also different, one beady and yellow and the other the cloudy gray of smoke.

The strange assassin lifted a short sword that glistened with Quellan's blood. "There are few who can withstand my sting," he said. "I will take my time carving you up, orc-kin, so you can listen as Jargo chops your friends to pieces."

Quellan didn't reach for his mace, but instead swept his shield around. The creature was fast, but the rim of the shield still caught him in the shoulder before he could shift out of the way. The assassin stumbled back to the edge of the fire pit. He wasn't seriously hurt, but his lips twisted in an angry snarl as he shook off the effects of the hit.

Bredan's uncle had trained him to expect the unexpected when facing a foe, but even so the speed of his adversary took him by surprise. The clang of metal striking metal echoed through the cavern as their blades met, sending sharp jolts of pain up Bredan's arms. He only just barely ducked under a follow-up stroke that would have cleaved his skull in two had it connected.

He tried to distract his foe with a desultory sweep at his legs, but the giant merely chuckled and tapped the sword aside with the shaft of his axe. The weapon had to be heavier than Bredan's sword by a good margin, but the brute wielded it as though it was one of the wooden practice blades that he'd trained with behind the smithy.

The one advantage Bredan had was the low ceiling, which meant that the giant had to swing his axe sideways and couldn't rely on the power of an overhead strike. But that constrained him just as much, and as he was driven back he had to be alert to the danger of clipping his blade on the cavern walls.

He pivoted back toward the center of the room, but the axe blade was there to meet him. He caught it in a full parry that drove his sword back into his own body from the sheer force of impact, but the layered mail of his hauberk protected him from being cut by his own weapon, and the strength granted by the magical potion let him shrug off the effects of the hit. He caught the head of the axe behind the edge of his sword, and for a moment the two warriors were drawn close together. Bredan tried to pull the giant in even closer so he could drive the pommel of his sword into his face, but Jargo saw the gambit coming and held his ground easily.

"You're good, but not good enough," the creature said.

Bredan tensed, expecting him to either yank his axe clear or try to jam it into his body, but the giant did something else unexpected. Jargo released one hand from his weapon and let the other slide down to the very end of the haft, then stepped back and drove his boot into Bredan's belly.

Bredan was not a small man, but the kick drove the air from his body and launched him across the room. He hit the floor and slid, coming to a stop in front of the entrance passage where the fight had begun just moments before. Gasping for breath, he looked up to see the giant striding effortlessly toward him.

* * * * *

Chapter 35

Jargo's approach toward his staggered foe was interrupted as an arrow thudded into his coat. But he only spared Glori a desultory glance before returning his focus to Bredan. "When I'm finished with you," he growled, "I will deal with your woman."

Bredan felt a sudden calm fall over him. His hand tightened on the hilt of his father's sword. He flashed back to the courtyard behind the smithy, where he and his uncle had spent countless hours practicing with every kind of weapon the elder Karras could either get his hands on or simulate with blocks of wood. This giant was unlike any foe that Bredan had ever faced, but the axe was just another weapon. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and he could see in his mind how the giant would place his foot, how he would shift his weight as he placed his strength behind an unblockable sweep of that deadly edge.

Bredan sprang up and swept his sword into the giant's path. He wasn't sure if it was the potion or the adrenaline rushing through his body, but the weapon suddenly felt as light as the wooden practice blades he had trained so long with. Jargo met the blade and parried it easily, bringing his axe up to chop the edge into his adversary's throat as the weight of his sword pulled him inevitably around. But Bredan kept control, continuing his pivot and spinning down into a crouch even as the axe carved the air where he'd been just a moment before. The half-ogre realized his mistake and released the axe to drive his foe back with a punch to the face that likely would have shattered the smith's nose if not his skull. But even as the massive fist started forward, Bredan finished his spin and thrust forward and upward with all his strength. His father's sword slid into the giant's body. Jargo convulsed and let out a bloody cough. The fist that had had so much power behind it just an instant before bounced off the smith's armored forehead without effect. With a feral growl Bredan drove the sword deeper into his enemy. The monstrosity that had seemed so deadly just heartbeats earlier stumbled back and then crumpled to the floor.

On the far side of the room, Quellan and his opponent witnessed the whole exchange. The cleric had pulled out his mace and took a protective stance over the fallen dwarf, but as Jargo slumped to the ground his companion darted back and fled into one of the passages in the back of the cavern. Quellan didn't bother to try to chase him, but instead turned back to Kosk and stabilized him with his final healing spell.

Glori went over to Bredan with a look of concern on her face. "Are you okay?"

With an obvious effort Bredan tore his sword from the dead warrior's body. "Yeah."

"I'm out of healing spells, but I still have my potion..."

"Save it. I'm getting my second wind." He thought of all the times his uncle had forced him to fight through bruises and cuts and strains, and silently thanked him. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, a little surprised not to see any blood. "That spell, with the kobolds... what was that?"

"I don't know... I didn't know the lyre could do that."

A groan followed by a familiar curse drew their attention back over to the far side of the room. "Kosk!" Glori said. "Is he okay?" she asked Quellan.

"I'm fine," the dwarf said. He was still lying on his back, but appeared to be intact and alert. His wound had closed but he still looked pale. "That big bastard... you got him?"

"Yeah, I got him," Bredan said. "We got him," he amended with a look toward Glori.

"Good," the dwarf said. Ignoring Quellan's cautioning hand, he pulled himself to his feet. "Where's my staff?" he asked.

Glori stepped in front of him. "Here," she said, offering him her potion of healing. "Drink this, you can barely stand."

"I said I was fine."

"And I said you can barely stand. I'm not offering this to be nice. A number of the kobolds got away during the fight, and I saw that guy that stabbed Quellan take off too. If we run into them again, I don't want you going down if one of them breathes on you too heavily."

The dwarf glared at her, but he accepted the vial.

"Speaking of that," Glori continued, "Quellan, you'd better drink your potion too, if you are out of healing spells."

The cleric blinked, then as if just remembering his wound he glanced down at the bloody trail trickling down his side. A pool of blood had gathered beneath him just in the few moments he'd been helping Kosk. He quickly pressed his hand against his side to staunch the flow of blood. "I used my potion to save Kosk in the shrine, in the fight against the mephit."

"Of course you did," Bredan said. He stepped forward and produced his vial.

"You need that more..." Quellan began, but Bredan quickly interrupted him. "I'm fine," the smith said, tapping his chest. "Trained warrior. Second wind. Now please drink this before you bleed to death."

After a moment the cleric nodded and accepted the potion. He drained its contents in a single swallow, and let out a sigh of relief as it worked its magic.

Thus fortified, the companions turned to an exploration of the cavern.

* * * * *

Chapter 36

Quellan recovered the stone he'd enchanted to shed light and used it to push back the gloom that lingered in the back part of the cavern. The spell's glow revealed a total of four exits around the perimeter of the room, all of which were far back from the entrance and the chimney over the fire pit.

"The kobolds fled via those two," Kosk said, indicating the two leftmost exits. "There's probably another lair further back."

"The creature that attacked me went that way," Quellan said, pointing to the passage furthest to the right. "It seems pretty clear that he and the half-ogre were in charge here."

"That was a half-ogre?" Bredan asked.

"Indeed," the cleric replied. "An uncommon combination, but possessed of incredible physical strength and stamina, as you saw."

"Yeah," Bredan said, with another look at his fallen foe.

"Did you check to see if he had anything on him?" Glori asked. She started to head over to the corpse, but Kosk said, "You can loot the bodies later. Every second we waste here is time for the kobolds to rally and set up another line of defense."

"You think they'll still put up a fight after what just happened here?" Bredan asked.

"They're kobolds," Kosk said. He made their decision by marching over to the leftmost exit, the one that the kobold ambushers had appeared from, though he waited for the others to follow before continuing ahead.

None of them spotted the dark figure that appeared from one of the other passages. The figure waited until they had headed into the dwarf's chosen exit before he slipped through the room, making his way silently toward the tunnel that led outside. A large sack bulged under his cloak, but the extra weight gave him no difficulty. Within moments, he was gone.

The four adventurers came to a short flight of steps that deposited them on the edge of another cave. This one was maybe half the size of the main lair, but it seemed even smaller because of the low ceiling. A potent stink filled the air. A pool of water stood just off to their left. Beyond it the floor rose to meet the ceiling until the clearance between them was less than four feet.

Crowded into that space was a small horde of kobolds. It was difficult to count them all in the close confines, but it looked like there were at least a few dozen of them. The creatures blinked and skittered back as the light in Quellan's hand penetrated back into their hidey-hole.

"Time to finish this," Kosk said.

"Wait a moment," Quellan said. "Look at them, they're no threat."

A closer look at the survivors of the tribe seemed to bear out the cleric's comment. Only a few of the kobolds carried weapons, and from the wounds they bore those were the survivors of the fight in the outer lair. The others ranged from slightly smaller than the warrior males to half their size. The females and young cringed back against the far wall of the cave.

"They're terrified," Glori said.

"They're kobolds," Kosk said, his voice thick with anger. "What do you think those little ones are going to do when they grow up?"

"We can't even fit back there," Bredan said. It was clear from the look on his face he shared the reluctance of the cleric and bard.

"That's what the crossbow is for," Kosk said. "If you don't want to do it, give it to me."

"We're not murderers," Glori said.

"Careful!" Bredan warned, as several of the kobolds shuffled forward. The kobolds flinched as the adventurers lifted their weapons, but after a moment continued their approach. They were carrying something that they put down near the edge of the pool before retreating back to the edge of the crowd. The object was a shallow copper bowl that was filled with an assortment of copper and silver coins.

"An offering?" Glori asked.

"A bribe," Kosk said.

"Do any of you speak Common?" Quellan asked.

A stir went through the kobolds, accompanied by yapping in low voices that didn't sound promising. "Does anyone speak their language?" Bredan asked.

A quick look confirmed that none of them understood what the creatures were saying. After a moment one of them shuffled forward again, obviously reluctant. Smears of blood covered its face, suggesting it was the one who had survived Glori's spell-blast. "I speaks some hooman," it said.

"Ask them about the boy," Glori prodded.

Quellan nodded. "Is there a boy here? A human boy?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he's here and treated like royalty," Kosk muttered.

The kobold looked between them, clearly not understanding. "The boy... a captive?" Quellan said. When the kobold just stared at him blankly he added, "Prisoners? Are there prisoners here?"

The kobold let out a sharp bark. "Prissner! Yes! Jargo and Cthel keep. In chief cave."

"Jargo and Cthel, that would be our friends from back there, I expect," Glori said.

"We killed the big one," Quellan said. He made a ferocious expression and then mimed holding an axe, then pointed to Bredan and his sword. "Our warrior killed him."

"Oh, for the love of..." Kosk said.

The kobold let out an angry hiss that was echoed by those behind him. "Jargo bad, we hates Jargo!" the creature said. "Jargo kill chief, pull off head!"

"Is the boy alive?" Quellan asked. "Prissner alive?"

At the kobold's eager nod Glori said, "We'd better find him before this 'Cthel' decides to use him as a bargaining chip."

"What are we going to do with them?" Bredan asked, gesturing toward the kobold. "I may not agree fully with Kosk, but the fact remains that they most likely killed that hunter from the village, if not more people."

"That could have been the leaders' doing," Quellan said.

"And even if they did, we're not like them," Glori said.

"You know what I bloody think," Kosk said.

Quellan slipped forward into the low space of the cave. The kobolds drew back, but the half-orc only took hold of the bowl and slid it over to where Bredan waited. "You will turn over all of your weapons," the cleric said, his voice heavy and low. "You will stay here until we leave, and then you will depart this place and never return. I do not care where you go, as long as it is away from the human lair beyond these hills." As he spoke his voice deepened and the sound of it echoed off the walls, an effect similar to the one he'd created in their initial intrusion into the lair. Glori, seeing what he was doing, strummed her lyre and created a minor magical illusion. A softly-glowing radiance shimmered into being around the half-orc. Within it Quellan seemed to swell outward, his visage taking on an added ferocity and his eyes glowing red. "You must swear by the Great Dragon that you will not threaten any humans again, or I will come for you!"

The kobolds were now crawling over each other in a general panic, one that ebbed only fractionally as the cleric finished his declaration. They might not have understood everything he said, but the threat definitely got across. When Bredan stepped forward and said, "Weapons! Now!" there was a general stir and then a few knives and clubs were tossed forward to land at his feet. The smith swept them all up and tossed them into the bowl.

"You're all bloody nuts," Kosk said, but he remained with the others as they left the cave behind and returned to the outer lair.

With the knowledge that the mysterious and dangerous "Cthel" might still be lurking ahead the companions moved into the other part of the complex. Unlike most of the rest of the kobold lair this passage was large enough to accommodate all of them comfortably, making it obvious why the half-ogre and his confederate had chosen it for themselves. They passed a small chamber that was empty save for some scraps of wood and a few empty sacks of torn canvas. A passage in the back of the room led back to the main lair, while to their right a set of natural stone steps ascended a steep shaft to another cavern above.

"Supply room, maybe," Bredan said, peering into the side chamber.

"Nothing left," Glori said. "Looks like our big friend was eating the kobolds out of house and home."

Kosk just grunted and started up the stairs. Glori followed him, with Quellan and Bredan just a few steps behind.

The cleric's stone revealed a long, irregular cavern that extended into darkness. This place had been left more or less as nature had created it, down to the stalagmites and stalactites that extended along the walls. The only compromise to comfort had been a cleared space in the center of the cave where a table and two chairs had been set up. The furnishings were obviously sized for creatures significantly larger than kobolds.

"Looks like someone left in a hurry," Kosk said, pointing to an open chest along the wall to the left of the stairs. A few objects were scattered around the chest, and a bulky fur hung from the side of the container.

The dwarf found out that wasn't all they'd left as he stepped forward and tripped a thin, almost invisible wire stretched across the top of the stairs. There was a loud click, followed by a deluge of rocks that plummeted down from above.

* * * * *

Chapter 37

As soon as he felt the pressure of the wire on his shin, Kosk launched himself forward. He landed in a tumble and rolled to his feet as the head-sized stones that had been carefully stacked on a shelf over the entrance struck the floor and started bouncing down the steps. He hadn't gotten through unscathed, but ignored the painful twinges in his shoulder and hip as he scanned the darkness ahead for threats.

As soon as the rocks started falling, Quellan grabbed hold of Glori and yanked her back out of the area of the trap. He felt a sharp pain as one of the rocks bounced off his shin, but didn't flinch as he sheltered the bard with his body. Bredan let out a curse but kept his footing as the stones continued their noisy passage down the stairs before rolling to a stop in the passage below.

"Are you all right?" Quellan asked.

"Yeah," Glori said. "Thanks. Again."

"Kosk, are you okay?" Bredan called up.

"Bloody wonderful," the dwarf shot back. "No sign of the bastard."

The others hurried up to join him. "Bet your scaly little pals sent up a cheer when they heard that," Kosk growled.

"I bet they're already a mile away by now," Bredan said.

Glori had headed over toward the chest, but abruptly drew back. "Shit," she said.

"What is it?" Bredan asked, only to recoil as he got a whiff of the same stink.

"Literally shit, I think," Glori said. "It looks like someone dumped a chamber pot in there."

"If I can't have it, no one can?" Quellan asked.

"Looks like our friends paused to grab their loot before heading down to meet us," Kosk said.

"If so, they still might have it on them," Glori said. She'd turned halfway back toward the stairs before Quellan stopped her. "The boy, first," he said.

"Right."

They started forward again. The cave extended for a good distance, becoming rougher and more irregular as they pushed on. They passed a pair of rough bedrolls, mounds of cloth and fur that stank almost as badly as the foul mess that had been dumped in the chest. Finally, the light revealed the back of the cave, the uneven wall obscured by a small forest of mineral formations.

"I think I saw something moving over there!" Glori hissed, pointing into one irregular corner where the light didn't quite reach.

They readied their weapons, but no threat emerged from the shadows. Quellan finally bent and tossed his stone forward. The glowing rock skittered across the floor, coming to a stop at the base of one of the larger stalagmites.

The light revealed the prisoner. It wasn't a boy, but a full-grown woman. She was securely tied with ropes around her ankles, knees, and elbows, with her hands secured in what had to be a painful tension behind her back. She was gagged, with another rope fastened around her throat that connected to the mineral pillar and kept her from lying down.

But what caught their attention most immediately was her appearance. She might have been human, save for the obvious red tint to her skin, brighter and deeper than any sunburn, and the pale horns that jutted from her forehead and twisted back in tight curves above her ears.

* * * * *

Chapter 38

Bredan started forward toward the bound woman, but Kosk stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Careful. She's a tiefling. Fiendspawn."

"She's a prisoner," Glori said.

"Yes, and we don't know why she's here," the dwarf said. "Her kind are dangerous."

The woman could clearly hear their exchange but only watched silently, her only movement the shifting of her chest with each breath. Her clothes looked like they might have been of good quality once, but now were rather the worse for wear.

Bredan pulled away from Kosk's grasp. He turned to Glori and extended a hand, nodding toward her belt. After just a moment's hesitation she drew out her dagger and handed it over hilt-first. The smith took it and headed over to the prisoner. Kosk didn't stand in his way, but he shifted to the side in a meaningful move to give him clear access if anything happened.

Bredan knelt before the tiefling woman. "We're not going to hurt you," he said. "I'm going to cut you free, okay?" At her nod he leaned forward and severed the rope connecting her to the stalagmite. She slumped forward, wincing as the motion sent twinges through obviously strained muscles. But she managed to scoot herself up and turned so he could get at the ropes binding her wrists and elbows.

Once Bredan had cut those bindings she extended her arms and flexed her fingers. She reached up—moving slowly, obviously not trying to provoke them—and undid the gag. "Do you have water?" she asked.

Glori handed over her flask, and she drank deeply before handing it back. "Thank you," she said. Bredan had left her legs tied, but she didn't ask him to cut the remaining bonds just yet.

"What are you doing here?" Kosk asked.

"I thought it would be obvious," the tiefling said.

"I'm Glori, by the way. The sour dwarf is Kosk, the looming mountain over there is Quellan, and the dashing warrior who freed you is Bredan."

The woman looked at each of them in turn with a slightly bemused expression. "I am Xeeta."

"That's an unusual name," Glori said.

"Not where I'm from."

"And where is that, exactly?" Kosk asked.

"From the south. The Island Kingdoms."

"You're a long way from home," the dwarf said.

"Yes."

"I think what my friend was getting at before," Quellan said, "Is how you came to be captured by the kobolds."

Xeeta let out a deep sigh. "Stupidity and bad luck, I suppose. I was traveling through the hills near here and became fatigued. I came upon a campsite that looked like it was used fairly often, so I assumed that meant the region was safe. I normally am a fairly light sleeper, but they caught me unawares."

"You were traveling alone?" Kosk asked.

She straightened at that, though it had to cause her at least some pain to do so, especially with her legs still bound. "Yes. For some reason, many people don't feel inclined to trust me."

"I understand," Quellan said, and something in the way he said it had her looking at him again. "Bredan, you should free her legs, those ropes must be uncomfortable."

"Quite so," Xeeta said. She waited until Bredan cut the remaining few lengths of rope, then she sighed and extended her legs. Her trousers were cut in several places, showing that the reddish tint to her skin extended over her entire body. There were also a number of places where her clothes were marked with old bloodstains. "I think I will wait a moment before trying to stand up, if that's okay with you."

"How long have you been here?" Glori asked.

"A few days. Though it feels like longer."

"We came here looking for a boy," Quellan said. "A human child of eleven years who went missing from a nearby village."

"I haven't seen any other prisoners since I've been here," Xeeta said. "I assume you ran into Jargo and Cthel. Are they dead?"

"The half-ogre is," Kosk said. "The boy killed him," he added, nodding toward Bredan.

Xeeta smiled, revealing teeth that were slightly pointed, and Bredan flushed. "The other one got away," Quellan said. "He might have gotten past us."

Xeeta nodded. "He's stealthy, that one."

"What were they doing here?" Glori asked.

"From what I could overhear, they arrived here a couple of weeks ago. Killed the kobolds' chief and took over the tribe. They've been leeching off them ever since."

"We figured it was something like that," Quellan said.

"Did they talk about any plans?" Glori asked. "Raids they might have been planning, that sort of thing."

"Not specifically, but recently I overheard them talking about moving on. Something about trouble in the north, and opportunities for a 'big score.'"

The companions shared a look. "The King's proclamation," Glori said. "They must have heard about it."

"Proclamation?" Xeeta asked.

"There's been an invasion, near Adelar," Bredan said. "An army of goblinoids burned some villages and killed a bunch of people. The King's called for aid. We were headed that way when we heard about the missing boy."

"I see."

"You hadn't heard anything about that?" Kosk asked.

"I don't spend much time in settlements, for obvious reasons."

"That sounds lonely," Glori said.

Xeeta blinked at her in surprise, but said nothing.

Kosk cleared his throat. "It's clear that the boy isn't here. Let's finish our sweep and get out of here."

"Did Jargo and Cthel have any treasure hidden around here?" Glori asked Xeeta.

"They had a cache under a rock near where they sleep, but I think they took it with them before they left to confront you."

"How much you want to bet that shifty bastard has it all with him now?" Bredan said.

Xeeta tried to stand up, only to sag as her legs gave out under her. Bredan took hold of her and held her upright. "Thank you," she said. "Do you mind if I accompany you, at least to this village you spoke of?"

"The locals there might not be welcoming," Kosk cautioned.

"We can speak on your behalf," Quellan said.

"That might not be necessary," Xeeta said. She waved a hand and spoke a word that reverberated softly in the air before vanishing from their memories. The air in front of her shimmered, and her appearance changed. She was still more or less the same size and shape, but her tiefling features were gone, replaced by a milky-pale skin, light blonde hair, and green eyes. Her horns disappeared, and when she smiled her teeth looked normal.

"You're a wizard!" Glori exclaimed.

"A sorcerer, actually," Xeeta said. "My powers are innate."

Kosk had shifted into a ready stance as soon as the tiefling had begun her spell, and he only relaxed slightly when it became clear she wasn't going to unleash some nasty destructive magic. "I knew it," he muttered.

"By any chance, have you seen a rod of black wood, about the length of my arm?" Xeeta asked.

"No, but it might be in the shit box," Glori said.

That drew a raised eyebrow, but no comment.

They made their way back out of the cave. Xeeta allowed Bredan to help her, though she did a good job of masking the obvious pain she felt as sensation returned to her battered limbs. Now that they knew what to look for, they could easily see the stalagmite that had been shifted to conceal the bandit leaders' treasure. Glori took a look inside the hollow space, which was just big enough to hold a small chest or other container. Now, of course, it was empty.

Once they returned to the outer room, Xeeta went over to examine the open chest. On detecting the mess that the bandits had left behind her nose wrinkled and she muttered, "Animals." But she had no difficulty reaching into the chest and pulling out a black rod. It was smeared with filth, but she held it out and summoned her magic. Her eyes seemed to flash and wisps of flame erupted from her fingers clenched around the wooden shaft. They traveled up and down the length of the rod, scouring it clean without inflicting any apparent damage on the wood.

"Is any of this other stuff yours?" Glori asked.

"No," Xeeta said. "This is all I need."

"I think we could have used you earlier," Bredan said.

"Let's go," Kosk said.

"The kobolds have been destroyed, I presume?" Xeeta asked as they started back down the stairs. The tiefling woman was moving more easily now, though she still held onto one wall for support as she negotiated the steps.

"We killed most of the warriors," Glori said. "The rest we let go."

Xeeta glanced quickly at each of them in turn, noting the dwarf's scowl in particular, but made no comment.

The main lair was as they had left it. There was no sign of its former inhabitants, or the mongrel rogue.

Xeeta walked across the room until she was standing over Jargo. She muttered something in a harsh, guttural language, the abruptly raised the rod and smashed it down into the dead warrior's face. She delivered several more blows in rapid succession, then drew back, breathing heavily. Bredan had started to step toward her, a hand raised to offer support, but he hesitated.

Glori came around the other side of the half-ogre. "Big surprise, his purse is gone," she reported.

"Thieving little bastards," Kosk muttered.

"We accomplished what we came here to do," Quellan said.

"Did we?" the dwarf asked.

"We'll find the boy," the cleric said. "We swore an oath."

Bredan sidled slightly closer to Xeeta. "Are you okay?"

The tiefling took a deep, steadying breath, and then straightened. "I'm fine. I'm ready to leave this place now."

They filed toward the exit. None of them looked back.

* * * * *

Chapter 39

Xeeta stared at herself in the tiny mirror.

The mirror was of poor quality and showed a slightly blurred image, but the distinctive features of her heritage were clearly visible. The clothes were new, and cheaper than what she'd been wearing, but they were clean and sturdy. Between that and the natural imperfections in the mirror she could almost imagine that the face she saw belonged to a stranger. Almost.

She turned away and looked around the room. It was also tiny, though clean and neat. The proprietor of the Gray Oak Inn clearly put a lot of effort into his accommodations, even out here in the middle of nowhere.

Her gaze swept back to the basin under the mirror and the small purse that sat upon its edge. It held only a handful of silver and copper coins. Her rescuers had agreed to give her a share of the money they'd taken from the kobolds. It was generous, especially since she'd done nothing to earn such a reward, but she couldn't help but think back to earlier days. When she'd left Li Syval she'd had a purse full of platinum trade marks and electrum obots, along with fine clothes trimmed in silver thread and a dagger with an opal embedded in the hilt.

That was a long time ago.

She shook off the memories of the past, angry at herself. She had long since stopped allowing herself to wallow in what might have been. It was well past time to embrace reality.

She looked back at the mirror, challenging the face staring back at her. She lifted a hand, spoke the words of magic that summoned her power. The image in the mirror blurred again, but this time it was replaced by a new face, one with pale skin, a _normal_ shade, framed with gentle curls instead of twisting horns.

She reached out and took both the purse and her rod. Two steps were sufficient to bring her to the door and the hallway beyond. She didn't bother locking the door behind her. It wasn't as if she had anything worth stealing.

A few more steps, simple enough, thought they felt harder than the first. Finally. she was standing in front of another door. She could hear the sounds of activity from the common room drifting up from the stairs at the end of the hall. She normally didn't enjoy crowds, but at that moment those noises pulled at her like a magnet tugging on iron shavings. Her disguise would last for an hour, plenty of time to go down and enjoy a glass of wine or a bite of food and pretend she was normal.

_You're being a coward_ , she berated herself. She reached up and rapped on the door.

The response came at once. "Come in."

Bredan's room was only slightly larger than hers, though it had an actual table and two chairs crowded into a corner. The warrior was seated in one of those chairs, while Glori sat on the bed with her legs tucked under her.

"Oh, I didn't mean to intrude," Xeeta said when she saw the half-elf woman.

"You're not intruding," Glori said. "I was just about to head down to the common room, if you were looking to talk with Bredan alone..." There was a hint of something in her tone that had the warrior—gods, he was really just a boy—coloring up his neck to his ears.

"It's quite all right," Xeeta said, coming into the room enough so she could close the door behind her. "I'd like to speak with both of you, actually."

"Would you like to sit?" Bredan asked. At her nod he took the other chair and turned it around so it faced into the center of the room.

"Thank you. I understand you're going to continue your search for the missing boy tomorrow."

"Yes, there are a few more sites on our list," Glori said. "Apparently this village is surrounded by abandoned houses and old ruins."

"This whole region was once part of the Mai'i Empire," Xeeta said. "The nature of its collapse left a great deal of wreckage behind."

"So we've been told," Bredan said.

"I take it you'd like to come with us?" Glori asked.

Xeeta was not often caught off guard, but she blinked in surprise and betrayed a moment's hesitation before nodding.

"We could use another spellcaster," Bredan said.

Glori and Xeeta continued to match stares. "You'll need to convince Quellan and Kosk," the bard said.

"I know. I thought maybe you could speak for me."

"Why would they object?" Bredan asked.

The two women shared a knowing look. Bredan was about to say more, but saw that something more was going on and held his tongue.

"They'll want to know why," Glori said.

"I thought about using the argument of my debt to you, for freeing me from those bastards." She indicated her new clothes. "For helping me get back, for everything."

"That we would have done for anyone," Glori said.

"Yes. Yes, I see that. Even Kosk would have done that, maybe."

"So since you're not going that way, what reason did you decide on?"

"The truth. It seemed appropriate."

"And that truth?" Glori asked. Bredan thought that she already knew the answer, but needed to hear it. He looked over at Xeeta, who nodded as if she'd come to the same conclusion.

"I have nowhere else to go."

"We're probably not going to find anything at this old estate," Glori said. "And our road eventually leads north."

"Well then, I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Xeeta said.

"I expect the others will want to hear more about your story," Glori said.

Xeeta nodded again, clearly unsurprised. "It's not a tale I wish to recollect, but it is a fair request."

Glori looked at her a moment longer than sprang up. "I think that Quellan and Kosk are in the common room. We can..."

But even as Bredan and Xeeta started to get up they could hear someone approaching. It was impossible to miss the distinctive tread of the cleric ascending the narrow steps of the inn; even though Quellan tried to be unobtrusive it was hard to conceal six feet and three hundred pounds of armored half-orc. Glori went over and opened the door to the room.

"Ah, Bredan, Glori, I was looking for you," the cleric said when he appeared in the doorway. If he was surprised to see the tiefling there he quickly recovered. "Miss Xeeta," he said.

"Xeeta wants to go with us tomorrow," Bredan said.

"Oh? Your aid would be welcome."

"I told you," Bredan said.

"I would not wish to insert tension in your relationship with your companion," Xeeta said.

Quellan waved a hand. "Kosk's bark is worse than his bite. He's more tolerant than he seems. After all, he accepted a half-breed as his friend."

"You're more than your bloodline," Glori said.

"Thank you," Quellan said. "I would say that the same applies to you, Miss Xeeta. Don't be alarmed if Kosk treats you with caution, or even suspicion, that is just his way. Master Karras received much the same treatment at first."

"I don't see how that's changed," Bredan muttered.

"I understand that trust is something that must be earned," Xeeta said. "I appreciate being given the chance to earn it."

"You came up here to tell us something, Quellan?" Glori asked.

"Oh, yes. The mother of the local notable... Anthernon... she sought us out, spoke to Kosk and me downstairs. She wants to help us in our investigation of the old abandoned estate."

"News travels fast," Bredan said. "We only just briefed the council about the bandits a little while ago."

"Small town," Glori said.

"I got the impression that Althea—that's her name—is the real driving force behind the family," Quellan said. "She strikes me as the kind of woman who knows everything that happens within her demesne."

"I'm familiar with that sort," Xeeta said. "What kind of aid is she offering?"

"She wants to send one of her family retainers with us tomorrow morning."

"The one with the sword that we saw earlier?" Bredan asked. "That first time we met with the local council?"

"That's the one," Quellan said. "His name is Colum, and apparently he knows the area quite well."

"Is he any good?" Glori asked. "Can he handle himself?"

"I suppose we'll find out," Quellan said.

"What did Kosk say to this offer?" Bredan asked.

Quellan smiled. "I believe he is interested in expediting our trip so we can resume our travel north."

Bredan snorted. "Yeah, I bet that's exactly what he said."

"Should I go speak to him now?" Xeeta asked.

"Let me," Quellan said. "Perhaps you'll come down and join us for a drink later? We'll likely get an early start tomorrow, but I think we've earned a moment's respite."

"I can come down for a little while," Xeeta said. She made a gesture with her hand that highlighted the changes to her features.

Glori nodded; she understood. "I was thinking of turning in," she said. "Especially since I know what Kosk's definition of 'early start' means."

"I'll buy you a drink, Xeeta," Bredan said, but as he got up he hesitated. "Should I bring my sword down or leave it in the room?"

"I think we're safe in an inn common room," Quellan said.

"I don't know, I've been in some pretty wild inns in my time," Glori said.

"I can almost hear Kosk's voice in my head," Bredan said. "Should I be worried about that?"

Xeeta allowed a small smile at the interplay. "I can protect you, if need be," she said. She snapped her fingers and a wisp of flame rose from her hand, dancing in her grasp for a moment before dissolving into nothing.

"Well, I guess I can skip the flint and steel at the next campfire," Bredan said with a grin. He'd finally decided on taking the sword, tucking the baldric under his arm. He stuck out his other elbow toward the tiefling. "Shall we, then?"

After a moment Xeeta took his arm, and they headed downstairs.

"I think she likes him," Glori said when they were alone.

Quellan looked suddenly awkward. "I thought... you and Bredan..."

"We're just friends," Glori said.

"Ah. Well. I know you wanted to get some rest, so, ah, I'll just go, then." He started to turn toward the door.

"Quellan?"

He turned back. "Yes?"

"I'm glad you're with us. Both you and Kosk. I don't think we could have managed without you."

"I'm glad too. Good night, Glori."

"Good night, Quellan."

* * * * *

Chapter 40

"You sure this is a good idea?" Kosk asked Quellan as they prepared to set off.

The small company had gathered in the common room of the Gray Oak Inn. Olag Beedlebrim was standing behind the bar, watching as they checked their gear. Outside the front windows the village remained dark in the predawn gloom. Northpine remained asleep, even the hard-working farmers and artisans of the small community still abed at that early hour.

Besides the innkeeper, only a few of the locals had woken to see them off. Erron Laddrick was there, along with Comoran, the local priest of Sorevas. Also present was Colum, the Anthernon's retainer. He had added a wool cloak against the morning chill, but it didn't conceal the chainmail shirt he wore or the sword and dagger that hung from his hip. The man-at-arms was not very talkative, and merely checked his gear as he waited for them to leave.

Quellan knew that his friend wasn't talking about the locals. He looked over at Xeeta, who was standing in the corner near the side door. She wore a cloak with the cowl pulled forward to conceal her features. The cleric understood; she was saving her magic against possible need and thus had not used it to conceal her true identity. Comoran shot her a few curious looks, but he did not approach her.

"She hasn't done anything that would cause us to doubt her story," Quellan said.

"I'm sure you noticed that she didn't tell us all that much, in the way of details," Kosk noted. "Just that she grew up in the Isles, and had to leave when her sponsor or patron or whatever they call it died."

"I have heard that a person has a right to their past," Quellan said. "That they should be judged on who they are, not what they are."

"You read that in one of your books?"

"Actually, I got it from a friend, one who is wiser than he lets on."

Kosk muttered something under his breath.

"You have good instincts for knowing who to punch," Quellan said. "I have good instincts for knowing who to trust."

Kosk snorted, but didn't offer any further argument. They'd spoken at length the night before, and not just about the decision to allow the tiefling woman to join them. Quellan knew that once a decision had been made, it was not in his friend's manner to second-guess it; he just liked to complain.

Comoran came forward and lifted the icon of Sorevas that he wore. "I will call upon the god's blessing to bring you success and keep you safe," he said. "Normally we wait for the rising of the sun for the morning invocation..."

"Why don't you wait, then," Kosk said. "The rest of us are going to get moving."

The priest stared after them as they filed out through the side door and made their way out of the village. This time their route would take them north and west, into a region of light forest and scattered hills. According to Colum they would reach the old mill after about two hours of walking, with the abandoned estate roughly another hour past that.

The track they were following looked like it had accommodated carts at one point, but now it was overgrown and disused. Laddrick had told them that sometimes Northpiners used to came out this way to cut wood or gather herbs, but that recently few went far from the security of the village, especially with the uncertainty of events surrounding the disappearance of the village boy and the death of the local hunter.

They certainly didn't encounter anyone that morning. The sun was slow to rise, while a thin fog hung over the surrounding hills, obscuring visibility past half a mile or so. Kosk set his usual brisk pace. Colum carried a portable writing kit in a satchel he wore under his cloak, and he frequently took out a quill to make notations on the sheaf of maps he carried. But their new companion had no difficulty keeping up, and his eyes were in constant motion as they traveled, taking in every detail of the surrounding landscape.

They had been walking for maybe half an hour when they came to a copse of trees that extended along the length of the road. A row of stumps indicated that this was one of the spots where the villagers harvested wood. A small hand-cart had been left overturned by the edge of the path, the dense growth surrounding it suggesting it had been there for quite some time.

Kosk barely slowed, but Xeeta called out, "A moment. Colum, if we're going to be traveling together it is only fair that I show you something about me."

The man-at-arms turned toward her, but before she could continue Bredan said, "You should know that it's not a problem for us."

Colum didn't say anything, and after a moment Xeeta reached up and drew back her cowl. The weak light of the morning was more than sufficient to reveal the bright coloration of her skin and the spirals of horn that extended from her temples.

The man-at-arms betrayed no panic or alarm; he just said, "Do the Anthernons know, or the Council?"

"It's not their concern," Bredan said. He looked like he might say more, but Glori touched him lightly on the arm and he subsided.

Colum looked around at each of them in turn. Finally, he shrugged. "Don't see how it affects the job I've been ordered to do," he said.

"If that's settled, then let's keep moving," Kosk said. "I want to get there and back before nightfall."

They pressed on. The road grew more overgrown. They had no difficulty following it, but they had to switch to single file as the bushes and stalks of prickleburr pressed in from either side. The route meandered around low hills that were hardly obstacles at all compared to the rough landscape they had navigated over the last few days. The fog burned away but the sun remained hidden behind low clouds, leaving the day dim and gloomy.

They encountered the stream shortly before they came to the mill. The structure was sagging and decrepit, the large wooden wheel that had once powered the internal machinery lying broken on its side in the weeds. The spillway was overgrown with reeds and other growth that had opened gaping holes in the wooden framework.

The mill itself was in little better shape. The foundation was stone and had held up reasonably well, but the wooden boards of the upper level were warped and rotten. There were holes where iron fittings had been scavenged, and the main door was entirely gone, leaving a dark hole at the top of a short flight of stone steps that led into the interior. Other than the gurgle of the adjacent stream, the place was utterly silent.

Colum took out his writing kit and began sorting through his parchments. Kosk looked over at him and growled, "We're not here to make maps."

Without looking up, the man-at-arms said, "The child might have gone inside, fallen through the floor or gotten pinned under a beam." He found the sheet he was looking for and took out a quill and a pot of ink that fit into a slot on the top of the wooden kit.

Kosk looked sour, but Quellan said, "Come on, let's take a quick look." He opened his hand and summoned forth light that shone from the palm of his glove.

The others started to follow them toward the entry, but Kosk held up a hand. "You lot stay here and keep an eye out," he said. "This place isn't that big, and it'll only take us a moment to check it out." Without waiting for a reply, he followed Quellan inside.

"Your companion is not shy about sharing what he thinks," Xeeta said. She went over to a wooden fencepost that no longer had a fence to go with it and leaned against it before taking out her waterskin.

"Yeah, he's not shy," Glori said. "And his people skills could use some... refinement. But he's good in a fight."

"When he's not charging in alone to try to get himself killed," Bredan said.

"You've been together for a while, then?" Xeeta asked.

"Not that long," Bredan said. He walked over and found another orphaned post close to her. This one sagged under his weight and he quickly stepped clear before it would have dropped him on his backside. "We only joined up to find..."

"Wait, where's Colum?" Glori interrupted.

"He walked over there, around the edge of the building," Xeeta said. "I believe he was taking notations on the condition of the structure."

Glori nodded, but after a moment said, "He should know better than to wander off alone."

"I'll go check on him," Bredan said. But he'd only taken a few steps when they heard a loud, alien sound, a sharp chittering that they couldn't quite classify. But they had no difficulty identifying the source of the scream that followed.

Bredan and Glori sprinted around the corner of the mill. They saw Colum at once, along with the source of the strange sound.

The man-at-arms was being held in the grasp of a praying mantis the size of a wagon. The thing had him pinned in its hooked arms, clutching him against its body as he struggled weakly to break free. Seeing Bredan and Glori, it spun around and trotted off with its prize.

The two couldn't immediately follow, as a second creature emerged from the tall growth along the stream and charged at them.

* * * * *

Chapter 41

Bredan rushed forward to engage the giant insect before it could get to Glori. The second mantis was somewhat smaller than the first, the size of a cart rather than a wagon, but it still loomed over the warrior as the two closed to melee range.

The creature was incredibly fast, and it reached Bredan just as he was getting his sword clear of its scabbard. He tried to slash at it before it could strike, but one of its forelimbs lashed out and snagged the blade. The other limb snapped out to try to grab him the way its mate had grabbed Colum, but he managed to just duck under its grasp. For a moment the two combatants awkwardly wrestled over the sword, but then the mantis jerked back and launched the weapon flying into the stream. Pulled off balance, Bredan staggered to the side, disarmed and vulnerable.

An arrow stuck into the insect's side. Glori's shot distracted it for a moment, but the arrow had barely penetrated and as it twisted around the missile was knocked clear. It took another step toward Bredan, who'd managed to dig out his small work hammer from the kit of tools he carried. The weapon looked pathetically tiny against the massive scale of the creature, especially as it reared up in anticipation of another lunging attack.

But before the mantis could hurl itself forward again, there was a bright flash of light and heat. The insect stumbled back for a moment, its long limbs skittering on the packed earth that surrounded the mill, before turning toward the source of this new assault.

This time it didn't hesitate, launching itself forward toward Xeeta.

The sorceress had just come around the corner of the building, and as the insect charged she ducked back behind that cover. The mantis followed, cutting the edge of the structure with a dexterity that belied its considerable size. As it rounded the mill it lifted its claws to attack its tormentor.

What it did not anticipate was finding a half-orc cleric standing there to meet it.

Quellan slammed his mace into the mantis's armored carapace. The blow knocked it back a step, and though it recovered quickly, they could all see the shattered plate that oozed gelatinous fluids from inside its body cavity. Glori tried to circle around to get a shot at that newly vulnerable location, but before she could finish the maneuver the mantis turned and lunged again at the cleric. Quellan stood his ground, lifting his shield to meet its charge.

But before the insect could reach him, there was a massive crash from above. All of the combatants—even the bug—looked up as a segment of rotten boards from the upper level of the mill exploded outward and Kosk came flying out from the interior. The dwarf dropped faster than the mantis could react, landing hard on its back. His staff drove _through_ its body, impaling it like a spear, and his weight overpowered the strength of its spindly legs. As it fell the dwarf rolled clear, leaving his weapon stuck through the dying creature.

The adventurers gathered to watch the creature die, careful to stay clear of the violent twitches of its long limbs. Bredan was the last to arrive, dripping wet from recovering his sword. "The other one's gone, with Colum," he said.

His words stirred them back to the moment. "Is everyone else all right?" Quellan said. "Bredan?"

The young warrior shook his head. "Just wrenched my wrist a bit is all. I'm fine."

"We have to go after Colum," Glori said.

"Bug's probably taking him back to its nest," Kosk said. "If he's not dead already, he will be soon."

"We can't just leave him," Glori insisted.

"Even if he is dead, leaving such a creature alive so close to the village would be dangerous," Quellan said.

"If it were me, I'd want you guys to come after me," Bredan said.

"There could be more of those things where it's going, more than we can handle," Kosk said.

"All the more reason to deal with them now," Quellan said. "What if they come on us on our way back, perhaps when our strength is depleted from another encounter?"

Kosk looked at each of them in turn before settling his gaze on Xeeta. "Well? You have anything to add?"

"I will defer to the will of the majority," she said.

"Looks like we're going looking for trouble again," the dwarf muttered as yanked his staff from the dead mantis. They went back around to the side of the mill. The only thing they found there was Colum's writing kit and a few loose pieces of parchment. Bredan picked one up and showed it to the others; it was a map of the area that showed the mill and stream clearly. "Looks like he was taking notes," he said.

"Bloody idiot should have been keeping his eyes open for trouble," Kosk said.

"It might not have helped him," Bredan said. "Those things were fast."

"All right, if we're doing this, no sense standing around chattering," Kosk said. He crossed the stream and trudged off into the tall grass on the other side at his usual brisk pace.

"Did you see anything inside?" Glori asked Quellan as they hurried after the dwarf.

"Nothing," Quellan said. "No sign of the boy."

"Well, at least the way it ran off was sort of the way we were going anyway," Glori said.

Her statement proved less accurate as the day went on, as they followed the giant insect's meandering course. At least its tracks proved relatively easy to follow. Its wedge-shaped body left a noticeable path through the tall grasses, weeds, and scattered brush that filled the landscape beyond the mill. They also found periodic bloodstains that did not bode well for the condition of their erstwhile companion, but no other signs of the mantis's captive.

They had been walking for maybe half an hour when the trail vanished into a dense thicket. There was no mistaking where the mantis had gone, but it was also clear that it could have been anywhere in there, as there was ample growth to conceal a creature of its size—or a dozen of them.

"Think it's in there?" Glori asked.

"I wouldn't bet against it," Kosk said.

"You smell that?" Bredan asked. At that prompt they all sniffed the air. There wasn't much of a breeze, but they could all make out just a hint of something acrid that did not encourage exploration of the thicket.

"We could try and make some noise, try to lure it out," Glori suggested.

"I have a better idea," Xeeta said. She raised a hand, and flames erupted within her palm.

"That could end up burning the entire region," Quellan said.

"All the better," Kosk said.

"Could you maybe just make a display?" Glori said. "Throw a blast up over the thicket, maybe accompanied by one of Quellan's augmented shouts."

"That could work," Bredan said.

"And if there are a dozen of those things in there?" Kosk asked.

"Then we take cover," Quellan said. "Those trees over there... there's enough of them that creatures the size of those bugs would have some difficulty getting at us."

"That wouldn't slow them for long," Kosk said.

"Look, we didn't come all this way to back off now," Glori said. She took out her bow and fitted an arrow to the string. Bredan drew his sword and took up a ready position between her and the thicket.

"Bloody reckless," Kosk said. But he lifted his staff and staked out a likely spot.

Xeeta remained the furthest back. She glanced over at Quellan, who raised his holy symbol and nodded.

The bolt of fire arched from the sorceress's hand and streaked over the thicket. As it reached its peak, Quellan used his own magic to utter a deafening shout that launched flights of birds into the air from nearby hilltops.

The echoes of the shout were still bouncing back to them when there was a sudden burst of motion within the thicket. That was all the warning they got before the giant mantis exploded out of the growth and charged at them.

* * * * *

Chapter 42

Quellan was closest to the giant insect's path.

The mantis dwarfed even him, but the cleric did not flinch from its charge. He raised his shield and thrust forward, meeting its assault. Its front limbs snapped over the wooden barrier, seizing hold of it and trying to pull it from his grasp. But Quellan refused to either let go or let himself be dragged in. He let out a yell as he and the bug struggled for control. The creature thrust itself forward on its hind legs until it was half on top of him, its long neck slipping forward as it looked for a vulnerable place to bite.

The cleric would not been able to hold on long against that sheer ferocity, but fortunately his companions were quick to respond. Glori shot it from the flank, and while her arrow again did little damage it distracted it just enough for Quellan to yank his shield free and reset his defense. Kosk accomplished more, snapping one of its hind legs with a solid blow from his staff. The mantis leaned to the side as the limb collapsed under it, but it still clearly had a lot of fight left in it.

But the injury kept it from reacting in time as Bredan ran in from its opposite side. The creature snapped out a forelimb as he charged into range, perhaps intending to try the same trick of yanking away his sword that its mate had achieved, but this time the blade had the smith's full strength behind the swing. It clipped the mantis's limb, not only severing it at the joint but continuing through to strike its neck. The critical hit shattered its thick hide and separated the insect's head from its body. The creature's bulging eyes flashed in the weak light as the head tumbled end-over-end before bouncing to a stop a few steps away. The rest of the creature shuddered and crumpled, its limbs twitching a few times before falling still.

"Damn," Glori said, staring down at it.

"Very effective," Xeeta added.

It didn't take them very long to find Colum's remains. The man-at-arms hadn't been dead long, but the stench of death already filled the thicket. When they saw the body there was no doubt. They took his gear, anything that might be useful or worth returning to his employers back in Northpine. None of them had even learned if he had any kin back in the village.

They found his sword lying a few feet away from the body, still in its scabbard. Glori took it and hooked the scabbard to her belt. "I can carry that for you," Bredan said.

"No, I'll take it," she said. Something had changed in her manner, something that had him looking at her in surprise.

Not far from where they found Colum they encountered something else of interest, half-a-dozen ovoid eggs the size of a man's forearm. There was no need to debate their fate; Xeeta roasted them with magical fire and then Kosk crushed them thoroughly with his staff.

As they were leaving the thicket, Glori pulled Bredan aside. "Not now, but when we get back... I want you to teach me how to use this." She tapped the sword hanging from her hip.

Bredan nodded. "You know you don't have to be fighting in the front..."

"I know. I'd just feel better if I knew I could."

"All right."

They continued on in silence for a while. Colum's maps indicated that their detour had actually taken them a bit closer to the estate, and they decided to press on instead of backtracking to the mill. It was easier to get lost in the open terrain, especially since all the hills and clumps of forest tended to look identical after a while. But the terrain was much more forgiving than it had been in their earlier excursions, and it was only a little after the sun's peak at noon when they caught sight of both the road and their destination.

They could see the estate house from a good distance off. It was surrounded by fields that had been long fallow, the once-orderly rows overgrown with weeds. A small orchard of fruit trees followed the path before it turned into a thicket near the right side of the house. There was one large outbuilding, a barn or stable from the look of it, though it looked tired and decrepit. The house itself was in little better shape. Even from a distance they could see that one whole side of the structure was sagging and uneven, with damage to the roof that looked like at least a partial collapse had taken place sometime in the past. As they got closer they could see that the windows on the lower story had all been boarded up, but the purpose in that seemed to be defeated by the fact that the front door was partially open.

"Well, this looks like a mess," Glori said.

"If the kid came here, he's braver than I thought," Kosk muttered.

"The open door suggests that someone might be using the place..." Xeeta began, but she was interrupted by Bredan, who lifted a hand. "Shh, did you hear that?"

They were all silent, but whatever sound had alerted the warrior was not repeated. "I thought I heard something coming from over there," he said, indicating the barn.

"Let's go check it out," Quellan said. "The house will keep for a moment."

They made their way over across the weed-strewn yard to the front of the barn. The heavy doors were closed, but the wood was too cracked and rotten to offer much of an obstacle. After shooting a quick glance at his companions to ensure they were ready, Bredan took hold of one of the doors and dragged it open.

The door swung on hinges that looked to be more rust than iron, creaking ominously. When he'd gotten it halfway open the upper hinge snapped. Bredan left the door hanging unevenly and stepped inside, the others close behind.

The entire front half of the barn was one large room. It looked unremarkable, with two stalls for animals and bins for feed that were all empty. There were a few pieces of rotten tack hanging from nails and heaps of what might have been tools in the corners, now just rusted junk. There was a missing board on the wall to their right that let in a shaft of afternoon sunlight. An open doorway led to a back room.

Bredan stood there in the entry for a moment, scanning the dim interior. He couldn't shake the impression that something was off, something he couldn't quite place. Dust raised by his entry sparkled in the light that filtered through the numerous gaps in the boards. The place stank of decay.

Glori finally shook him out of his reverie. "Come on, you're blocking the way," she said. Bredan shot her an apologetic look and started forward, but he'd only managed one step before a loud clatter from the back room shattered the quiet. He immediately unslung his sword, the steel hissing as he drew it from its scabbard.

A slight form shot forward from the back room, but instead of rushing the companions it made a beeline for the missing board. It was faster than Bredan, and it might have escaped if not for a dart of fire that shot past the young warrior and clipped the wall directly in front of the fleeing figure. It let out a startled squeak and fell backwards into a pile of rusted shovels and hoes that collapsed around it in a wild cacophony. The intruder managed to scramble out of that chaos but it barely got to its feet before Kosk smacked it heavily in the chest with his staff. The impact knocked it back to the ground, stunned.

Quellan ran past them and used his cloak to put out the flames from Xeeta's spell before they could threaten the barn. The others converged on their captive, who turned out to be a very nervous goblin.

* * * * *

Chapter 43

"Well now, what do we have here?" Kosk asked. "What are you doing here, gobbo? Where'd you come from? How many of you are here?" The dwarf punctuated each question with a prod from his staff, drawing an increasingly shrill response that was just gibberish to most of them.

"Come on, can't you see that he doesn't speak our language?" Glori asked.

"Goblins are canny," Kosk said. "I wouldn't assume anything when it comes to them, except that they'll stick a knife in your back if you give them the chance." As he spoke, he checked the goblin for weapons. It had carried a small hand-axe that it had dropped when the dwarf had struck it earlier, but it did not appear to have anything else on its person. It wore an armless tunic of poorly-tanned leather over fur leggings that looked to be carrying roughly their weight in dirt. The goblin didn't resist, it only looked around at each of them in turn with wide eyes.

"Do you speak their language?" Bredan asked Xeeta. For a moment it looked like the tiefling wanted to say something, but she finally just shook her head.

"I do," Quellan said as he rejoined the others. " _Neeta kraktak?_ " he asked. " _Keevak akrat tak?_ "

"Even their language sounds like rats chittering," Kosk said.

The goblin responded tentatively. "He says he is alone," Quellan said.

"Well, we know that's not true, then," Kosk said. "Better keep an eye out for its friends."

"Whether or not it's lying, that's a good idea," Glori said. "I'll keep watch in case the noise drew any attention." She sidled over to the crack in the wall and knelt next to it. From that vantage she could see the side of the estate house, though nothing thus far had stirred in response to the disturbance. There was another entrance there, a set of stone steps that led up to a single wooden door.

Quellan spoke to the goblin a bit more in its own tongue, and the creature responded. "He says he doesn't know anything about a missing human boy. He says he was just looking for something to eat when we found him."

"Don't bloody lie to me," Kosk said. He bent over the huddled goblin, which couldn't mistake the threat even if it could not understand his words. He grabbed the creature by its vest and shook it. "Don't lie! Where are your friends!"

The goblin let out a tinny shriek, then started babbling. Quellan, who had started to step forward to intervene, stopped. He asked a follow-up question, which the goblin responded to with another panicked litany.

"He says that the others are in the cellar of the house," the cleric said. "He says that they're led by a bugbear named Gakrak. He says that the boy is being kept there, that he's alive and well."

Kosk's eyes bored into the goblin's for another long moment before he released it. The creature collapsed and huddled against the wall, holding up its hands to keep them at bay. "I told you," the dwarf growled. "They're a race of bloody liars."

"How do we know he's telling the truth now?" Bredan asked.

"Because we're going to make it show us," Kosk said, smacking his staff against his palm for emphasis.

Kosk took custody of the goblin when they left the barn. He'd taken a few bits of old tack and fashioned a leash that he'd looped around the creature's neck, keeping the strands clutched close in his fist. The dwarf had issued enough warnings through Quellan that the goblin looked barely able to stand from fear.

Their prisoner led them back around to the front of the house and the open door that waited there. The boards of the porch sagged and creaked as they put weight on them, but held. Bredan checked out the door first, confirming that there wasn't a small army of goblins waiting to ambush them before pushing it open the rest of the way and stepping inside.

The interior of the house was consistent with the overall impression of age and decay they'd gotten from outside. The foyer was cluttered with animal droppings, leaves, and bits of broken wood and shattered glass. A staircase that had once led up to the upper floor now lay in a collapsed wreck. The balcony above it looked like it was waiting for only a strong gust of wind to follow it down. Three arched exits led to other parts of the house. The goblin hesitated only a moment before directing them to the one on the left. Again Bredan cleared the way first, sidling up to the archway and peering through. "I don't see anything," he said.

Kosk yanked the goblin back so their faces were close together. "Remember what happens to you if you're lying," he growled.

The creature's only response was a strangled gasp.

The room beyond the arch was spacious and once might have been a comfortable living room. At the moment it was just a cluttered hazard. The wooden furnishings were all in a state of advanced collapse, their upholstery given over to vermin and rodent nests. This was the side of the building that was sagging, and the entire floor slanted at a noticeable angle. The room had a high ceiling that rose to the full height of the building, and while the beams above were holding despite the structural damage the roof had collapsed in a few places, letting in shafts of light.

There were three exits. The door leading outside that Glori had spotted earlier was in the far corner. They could see why the goblin hadn't taken them in that way; the entire door was covered with boards that had been nailed to the frame and the surrounding walls. There was another interior door to their right, and another open archway further into the room. The goblin pointed in that direction, and after another shared look they continued their exploration. There was enough debris in the room to conceal multiple ambushers, but nothing stirred other than a rat that emerged from a ruined sofa and retreated with a skitter of tiny feet.

The archway led into another room that might have once been a parlor. It was difficult to be certain, for the ceiling had collapsed, taking part of the far wall with it. They could see outside through the gaps in the rubble, which was partially overgrown with plants that had taken advantage of the decay to penetrate into the structure.

"This doesn't look very safe," Glori said.

The goblin pointed at the mound of debris and said something.

"He says that the entrance to the cellar is hidden under that mess," Quellan translated. The cleric asked the creature a question. "He says they keep it hidden, but if you move that clump of roofing there you'll see it."

Bredan glanced back to make sure that the others were in a position to cover him, then he sheathed his sword and edged cautiously forward. The damaged floorboards sagged under his weight but held. Quellan circled around to the left to help him, careful not to get in the line of fire from Glori or Xeeta. Kosk remained back by the entrance, his grip keeping the leather strap tight around their prisoner's neck.

Bredan grabbed hold of the debris the goblin had indicated, a segment of roofing that still clung tenaciously together despite the collapse. But before he could exert his strength it shifted, seemingly of its own accord. The young warrior quickly stumbled back, alert to the danger of another collapse.

But the source of the disturbance became clear a moment later as a squat form erupted from under the rubble. Bredan turned to face it, but couldn't react in time to keep whatever it was from latching onto his right ankle. As it bit down with a crushing grip he stumbled back, only to trip on the uneven floor. At least the fall tore his leg free of the creature's grasp. As it emerged fully from the debris they could see that it was a beetle roughly the size of a wagon wheel, its segmented body culminating in a plated abdomen that reared up behind it as it scuttled forward toward the fallen warrior, intent on securing its meal.

* * * * *

Chapter 44

While his captors were distracted by the beetle, the goblin reached up covertly, using its body to conceal the movement, and slid a tiny knife under the leather strap around its neck. As Kosk yanked the creature around the strap parted and it was free. It darted immediately toward the exit arch, ducking low to avoid any attacks that might come its way.

Unfortunately for it, the dwarf had been expecting such a maneuver, and he too had a knife handy. The goblin was just a half-step from the cover of the doorway when the monk spun around and buried one of his throwing knives in the back of the fleeing humanoid's neck. The goblin's momentum carried it forward through the doorway, but the thud of impact on the floor reported that it did not get far.

Kosk turned back immediately to help his friends, but it looked like they had the threat well in hand. Quellan had stepped in to block the beetle's rush toward Bredan, giving the warrior a chance to regain his footing. One of the beetle's eyes was a blackened wreck, suggesting that Xeeta had already joined the fight. Glori's first shot had bounced off its armored body, but she was already lining up a second, wary of hitting her friends if she missed again.

The beetle apparently didn't like the odds, for it abruptly turned back in the direction of the rubble pile it had emerged from. Quellan took a step toward it, but as it lifted its abdomen the cleric's eyes widened. "Take cover!" he warned, putting his own advice into action as he flung himself aside and raised his shield to protect his face.

Kosk reacted just as swiftly, hopping back into the relative cover of the doorway, but unfortunately his companions were unable to react in time. With a loud popping sound, the beetle unleashed a spray of noxious liquid that hissed as it sprayed over Bredan, Glori, and Xeeta. All three cried out in pain as the stuff burned their eyes and skin.

The beetle spun around again, no doubt ready to take advantage of the confusion it had created to grab a victim. It started toward Glori, but before it could cover more than a few feet Quellan came at it again from behind. The half-orc slammed his mace down hard onto its abdomen, filling the room with a loud crack as its carapace shattered. The beetle let out a high-pitched sound of distress and started to turn around again, either to attack the cleric or to attempt escape. But it didn't get a chance to do either before Kosk drove his staff into the gap between its neck and body. With another loud crack the creature sagged to the floor. It kept twitching for a few moments, but that was just the delay in its body figuring out that it was dead.

"Ack, that was awful," Xeeta said. She took out her waterskin and sprayed water into her eyes to clear them.

"What in the hells was that?" Bredan asked.

"Bombardier beetle," Quellan said. "They... they don't normally get that big."

"You don't say," Bredan said. He gratefully accepted a clean cloth from Xeeta and used it to wipe his face.

"Wait... where's the goblin?" Glori asked.

"It tried to make a break for it," Kosk said, jerking his thumb toward the outer room. "It didn't get far."

Glori took a quick look to confirm the dwarf's words, then came back. "What happened?"

"Little bastard had a hidden knife. It waited for the bug to attack, then cut and ran." The dwarf shot a challenging look at both Quellan and Bredan. "You lot going to start trusting my instincts now?"

"We had to check, even if it was lying about the boy," Glori said. "We still do."

Bredan turned back toward the rubble pile. "You think it was lying about the trapdoor too?"

"Do you think that even gobbos would be dumb enough to set up shop under something like that?" Kosk asked. "No, it was full of shit, all of it."

"I don't know," Quellan said. At Kosk's angry look he quickly added, "Okay you were right not to trust the creature. But some of what it said was oddly specific."

"Gakrak," Xeeta said. "A not-uncommon name for a bugbear. And you did suggest that it was unlikely that the goblin was here alone."

"Maybe there _is_ a cellar, but the entrance is someplace else in the building," Bredan suggested.

"If so, then they probably heard the fight and know we're here," Kosk said.

Bredan started to turn, but winced as he put weight on his injured leg. "Hold on, let me heal you," Quellan said.

The cleric cast healing spells on Bredan and Xeeta, while Glori used her lyre's magic to treat her own injuries. After just a few moments they were ready to set out again and returned to the ruined outer chamber. Kosk hefted the body of the dead goblin and tossed it behind the ruined sofa after recovering his knife.

The interior door near the foyer arch opened with just a token resistance, the brass hinges lacking the caked rust that had characterized the iron fittings in the barn outside. It led to a dining room that had been thoroughly looted. The furnishings had been removed, with only a fragment of what might have once been an impressive table propped up pathetically in a corner. Ceramic shards of dinnerware and shattered crockery were scattered across the floor. The decorative wallpaper was covered in ancient stains where it hadn't rotted away altogether. A tall shelf just a few feet below the level of the ceiling circled the room, but it looked like any items that had once been stored there were now likely part of the detritus that covered the floor. The large windows that might have once allowed generous beams of sunlight into the room were now all boarded up, allowing in only slivers of light.

There was another door in the center of the wall to their right that was slightly open. The most promising feature, however, was a set of stairs that descended along the wall to their left. The railing that had once protected diners from accidentally stumbling into the stairwell had been almost entirely torn away, leaving just bits of uneven wood sticking up like jagged teeth. The stairs began on the far side of the room, but as they entered the room Xeeta slipped carefully forward enough to peer down over the edge into the darkness below.

"Door at the bottom," she reported. "Could be the cellar."

"Seems like a good place to check first," Quellan said. He started forward, his boots crunching bits of crockery under his considerable weight, but he was still short of the center of the room when they all heard something, a faint skittering sound. The sound seemed to come from beyond the other door. It might have just been another rat, but after their earlier encounter they all tensed in response.

Bredan drew his sword started to head in that direction. But he made almost as much noise as Quellan did, and after a few steps Xeeta made an exasperated sound and gestured for him to stop. The tiefling crossed the room without any apparent effort, yet her soft boots made hardly a whisper of sound and she somehow didn't step on or scatter any of the myriad ceramic or glass shards that littered the floor.

Staying close to the wall, Xeeta leaned out and used her rod to prod the door further open. It let out only a slight creak that went unanswered, and when it was fully open she leaned forward cautiously and looked into the next room.

"Kitchen," she said. "Looks clear." Without waiting for a response, she went in.

"Wait!" Bredan hissed. He hurried after her, his progress across the room sounding more like an avalanche compared to her delicate tread. With any chance for stealth utterly ruined, the others followed.

The kitchen was in almost as bad a condition as the dining room, though there was somewhat less clutter. Once again it looked like anything of value had been stripped bare, but the embedded sink and a large brick oven, with an iron door caked with rust, remained more or less intact. Some cupboards along the wall to their right had been thoroughly ransacked, down to having their doors ripped off their hinges in a few cases. An open arch to their right led back to the foyer, while another interior door in the opposite wall presumably led to yet another part of the house.

Xeeta had already made her way over to the arch. Confirming that nothing was waiting for them there, she came back over to the others, glancing into the empty cupboards on her way. "Could have just been a rat," she said.

"Or it could have been a goblin, or a pack of them," Kosk reminded them.

"Let's stay close, and stay alert," Quellan suggested. "If there is an ambush, we don't want to get separated."

Xeeta inclined her head, acknowledging that the comment had been directed at her.

"So... the cellar?" Glori suggested.

"Shouldn't we clear the rest of the building first?" Bredan asked.

"Normally would be the best strategy," Quellan said. "But in this case the cellar would be the most likely hiding place for any more goblins, and therefore the most likely place we could expect to find the missing boy."

"If he's here, I'll eat my sandals," Kosk said.

"Let's just go," Glori said. "This place gives me the creeps."

But once again as they started to turn they heard another noise. This one was both softer and closer, close enough that they all heard it, a subtle scrape of something moving.

They all turned slowly and scanned the room once more before their eyes all drifted inevitably to the oven.

The oven was of the sort one might expect to find in an inn, large enough to cook a dozen or more loaves of bread simultaneously. The iron door was just slightly open; the latch that would hold it shut was obviously broken.

Silently the adventurers spread apart and took up positions facing the oven. Kosk was the closest, and once the others were ready he stepped forward and extended his staff to grab hold of the handle. The iron ferrule settled on the handle with a soft click.

The door burst open and a furious eruption of legs, hair, and fangs exploded out into the room.

* * * * *

Chapter 45

The companions found themselves confronted by a giant wolf spider, which proved quite irate at the interruption of its rest.

The spider seemed to swell as it emerged from the relatively small opening of the oven door, its legs spreading to catch hold of the brick exterior in anticipation of a springing leap to attack. Kosk tried to slam the door shut, but the spider overwhelmed him with sheer leverage; after a momentary struggle the door snapped back and slammed against the outside of the oven.

Xeeta let out a sharp squeal and staggered back, her eyes wide. Flames shot out from both ends of her rod, but it was a raw reaction rather than an actual spell. Yet it seemed to draw the spider's attention, and its huge multifaceted eyes fixed on her as it leapt forward.

The tiefling's face twisted in terror and she sucked in a breath to scream, but she didn't get the chance. The arc of the spider's jump was nearly flat, propelled by its many legs, but before it could reach Xeeta it was intercepted by a descending slab of tempered steel. All the quickness in the world couldn't save it from that impact, which drove it to the floor. It twitched there, Bredan's sword embedded in its side. For a moment it looked like it might still somehow get up, but then Glori stepped up and with a look of disgust on her face fired an arrow point-blank into its head.

The spider convulsed once and fell dead. Xeeta kept staring at it, her eyes wide and her chest heaving, until Glori touched her arm. The tiefling jumped, causing the bard to quickly hold up her empty hand. "Hey! It's me! Are you okay?"

Xeeta sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Sorry. Sorry. It's just... I don't like spiders. I _really_ don't like spiders."

"Most people don't, when they're this big," Kosk said. He peered into the open oven. The spider's nest was full of small bones and other debris from its previous victims. The back of the oven, which extended past the rear wall of the house in order to let it vent safely, had burst open, revealing how the spider had gotten in. The dwarf prodded at the bones with his staff, but didn't see anything that looked big enough to have come from a goblin—or a human child.

Bredan pulled his sword clear and carefully wiped it off before stuffing it back into its scabbard. "Well done," Quellan said.

"Thanks," Bredan said. "Maybe we're starting to get the hang of this, eh?"

"Let's see if we all get out of here alive before we start patting ourselves on the back," Kosk said as he swung the oven door shut.

The companions made their way back through the dining room and carefully descended the stairs. Kosk took the lead, the dwarf's impatience making the decision before Quellan had a chance to step in. The cleric followed, the half-orc's hulking frame almost completely filling the narrow breadth of the staircase. Glori and Xeeta were right behind him, while Bredan brought up the rear this time, his scabbard unlimbered and in his hand in case he needed to draw the sword suddenly and put it to use.

The door at the bottom of the steps opened easily to Kosk's touch, the hinges creaking a bit in protest. Behind it was the cellar, a dark chamber that extended for a good twenty-five feet ahead of them. When nothing stirred immediately out of the darkness Quellan summoned light, affixing the spell to his shield.

The cleric's magic revealed another thoroughly looted chamber. The racks that were constructed along the walls were mostly intact, though the barrels and crates that they'd once held were almost universally shattered and broken. The room had a musty scent that wasn't quite unpleasant, but other than a few small piles of debris in the corners and a couple of mostly-intact barrels in the back there didn't seem to be anything there that could conceal a threat.

"Looks like he was lying after all," Glori said as she followed them in.

"There's something not right here," Kosk said.

He took a few steps forward, sniffing the air, but a sound drew his attention to the left. Both he and Quellan raised their weapons, but the disturbance turned out to be just another rat, which emerged from the wreckage of a shattered crate only to quickly skitter behind one of the wall racks.

"I think we can all be excused for feeling a little jumpy..." Quellan began, but as he turned to the others, he detected movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned in time to see one of the barrels in the back of the room shift and then topple forward, revealing a concealed door behind it.

A small horde of goblins poured through the opening and shouted a cry of "Bree-yark!" as they rushed to attack.

* * * * *

Chapter 46

Eight goblins emerged from the hidden door, rushing toward the companions with weapons drawn. Most held hand axes or small swords, but the last two carried bows with readied arrows that they raised as soon as they were through the door, looking for targets.

Quellan cursed and tried to get back to meet the rush, but the creatures were fast, too fast. The goblins' unexpected appearance had left Glori and Xeeta exposed; Bredan was just coming into the room, and while he drew his sword it didn't look like he'd be able to stop them before the ambushers got to their friends.

But neither woman retreated. Glori strummed her lyre, her fingers producing the soft melody of a lullaby. Both of the archers slumped to the ground, along with the two rear-most of the charging warriors.

The remaining four warriors kept on coming, unaware that the bard's spell had cut their numbers in half. But even as Bredan and Quellan rushed forward to meet them, Xeeta tucked her rod under her arm and held out her hands toward the goblins, her thumbs touching and fingers outstretched. Even as the lead goblin closed to striking distance, she smiled and spoke a word of power.

A sheet of flames erupted from her hands, extending almost to the back of the room. All four of the charging goblins—and two of the sleepers—were engulfed in the fire, which mercilessly seared exposed flesh. Goblin screams filled the chamber, echoing off the close walls. Bredan and Quellan drew reflexively back from the flames, though they did not spread past the sorceress and did not persist. As the spell faded they stepped forward again, but their weapons were no longer needed.

"Damn," Glori said.

Kosk came around the others and went forward to inspect the fallen goblins. A few were still on fire, their clothes burning and filling the room with tendrils of smoke. Quellan unfastened his cloak and hurried to douse the flames before the smoke could make the air in the cellar unbreathable.

Bredan looked at Xeeta. "That was... impressive," he said.

"Thank you," the tiefling replied.

Kosk went over to the archers, who were the only ones of the ambushing party still alive. He bent and grabbed one by the head. "Any objections?" he asked. Quellan looked troubled, but none of them said anything. Glori looked away as the dwarf snapped the goblin's neck.

"Maybe we should leave the last one alive..." Bredan suggested, but too late to stop the dwarf from killing the other archer with a blow from his staff.

"There may be more of them," Quellan said. "Perhaps guarding the boy, if he is here."

"And no bugbear," Glori pointed out.

"If our captive wasn't lying about that," Bredan reminded them.

"Only one way to find out," Kosk said. "Let's go."

He was again the first through the hidden door. It had been built into one of the racks, clearly designed to conceal whatever lay behind. It was low enough that only Kosk could pass through without bending down, and it took Quellan a few seconds to negotiate the tight space. But behind the door was another room almost as big as the first cellar.

The room might have been spacious in dimensions, but at the moment it was full of an awkward clutter. Quellan's light revealed an impressive collection of assorted furnishings, obviously relocated here from the house above. None were in any better shape than the ones they'd already encountered, and most were covered with fresh stains and other messes left by the goblins who'd made this space their lair. There were also more crates and barrels, these more intact than the ones in the last room but hardly in good condition. Narrow paths had been arranged haphazardly through the confusion, turning the room into a sort of maze. On the far side of the room they could just make out a passage that exited near the end of the wall to their right.

The stink of sweat and rotting food filled the air, causing each of them to recoil in turn as they stepped through the door. This time the room was so obviously full of potential ambushes that Kosk waited for all of them to make it through before he started into the labyrinth. There were two main paths forward through the heaped junk, and he chose the one on the right that veered closer to the far corridor.

Glori strummed her lyre to summon the floating motes of light to illuminate the far corners of the room. But this time she didn't get a chance to finish her spell.

A huge figure rose up from behind a broken couch along the left wall. The couch had been arranged, by happenstance or design, away from the denser clutters of furnishings and storage containers, so it hadn't drawn the adventurers' attention the way the more ominously large mounds had. By the time any of them detected the threat, the stealthy foe was already launching his first attack.

Glori heard a warning shout from one of her companions, but she was caught up in the critical moments of her spell and had no chance to react in time. Then she felt a terrific impact and a massive explosion of pain that shot through her body. For a moment, everything drifted out of focus.

When she came to again, she was lying in the shattered remnants of an empty barrel. When she lifted her hand, she saw fresh blood glistening on her fingers. She tried to lift her other hand, but it was tangled in something. In dawning horror, she realized that the mess was the wreckage of her lyre.

Her terror was complicated by the fact that a massive battle seemed to be going on in front of her, and that her friends seemed to be in just as much trouble as she was.

* * * * *

Chapter 47

The goblin taken prisoner by the five adventurers hadn't been lying about everything; Gakrak was all too real. Having taken down one enemy in a single hit, the bugbear faced off against the rest of the intruders of his lair without apparent concern for the odds against him.

Perhaps that confidence was because the odds were not as imbalanced as they had first seemed, as Kosk quickly discovered.

Even though the dwarf's chosen course had taken him away from the bugbear, he was quick to react to the sudden attack. But as Kosk spun and prepared to vault the awkward heap of chairs and crates that formed the long central divider of the room, a goblin emerged from behind a vanity dresser next to him and stabbed him in the side with a military pick.

When the ambush had sprung Quellan had gotten his shield up, only to realize that the bugbear's attack was not targeted at him. When Glori went down he hesitated, but Bredan rushed instinctively to her side. There wasn't much the young warrior could do for her since they were out of healing potions, but with Kosk busy with another enemy that meant that the cleric was for the moment the only one standing in the way of the goblins' ferocious leader.

The half-orc turned back toward the bugbear, and saw that even the brief delay had given it time to vault the couch and produce a second axe, this one a huge weapon equipped with a spike that extended a good foot beyond the end of the blade.

"You would be Gakrak, I presume," Quellan said.

The creature met his eyes and twisted his lips in a smile of invitation.

The half-orc felt something stir in him in response, an instinctive response to that challenge. He lifted his shield and mace and charged. His hip clipped a protruding crate but the impact barely slowed him. The bugbear adjusted his footing and waited, content to let his foe come to him.

When Quellan came within reach, Gakrak lifted his axe to strike. The cleric raised his shield, but at the last instant the bugbear stepped aside and swept his weapon up from below, coming up under his foe's guard. The blade slammed hard into the half-orc's side, crunching the steel scales that protected his torso and tearing through the flesh and muscle underneath. Quellan was lifted off his feet from the impact. He hit the sofa and went over, bouncing off the wall and flipping the damaged piece of furniture over onto him. He left a gory smear of blood on the wall where he'd hit. A single boot jutted out from under the edge of the sofa, unmoving.

A bolt of flames shot past the bugbear's head, narrowly missing before splashing harmlessly against the wall. Gakrak turned to see Xeeta staring at him with eyes wide with terror. If he was discomfited at facing a magic-user the giant humanoid didn't show it; he merely chuckled and said in thickly-accented Common, "Two down."

Then he started forward toward her.

With a deep growl Kosk tore the pick embedded in his side free and tossed the bloody weapon aside. The goblin, smiling at its handiwork, drew out a dagger and lunged forward to finish him off. But the little humanoid didn't expect the monk's sudden pivot, or the foot that snapped up and cracked it under the jaw.

The goblin was flung backwards to where it had started, bouncing off the front of the vanity. The dresser wobbled, then cracked as Kosk slammed his staff down where the goblin's head had been a moment before. The creature had obviously decided that this foe was too much for it, for it ducked and dove back into the cover of the piled-up furnishings, disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared.

Bredan carefully tore away broken bits of wood as he tried to get to Glori. He could see where the axe had struck, and the blood that was soaking through her vest to stain her tunic. Her lyre had been shattered by the impact, and one of her hands was tangled up in the broken strings.

"Glori..." he said, trying to think of something to do.

"Bredan!" came a panicked yell from behind him. That cut through the bard's haze of pain more than his calling her name had, and the confusion in her eyes cleared as they met his. "Go!" she yelled, pushing at him with her bloody hand. "I'm... fine!"

It was clear that she was anything but, but Bredan knew he couldn't help her until they were out of danger. He rose up, grasping his sword as he turned. He saw the enemy at once, a brutish hulk of a monster that was making a surprisingly sinuous approach through the maze of crates. Off to his right Kosk was fighting a goblin, but Bredan's attention was fixed entirely on the primary foe. He recognized its type from the bodies they'd encountered at the shrine of the Eth'barat, but those corpses were nothing like this very alive and very vital foe that was coming forward to face him. He flashed back to his battle with the half-ogre in the kobold lair, but there at least he'd had the power of a magic potion pulsing through his veins, not to mention room to swing his sword.

But there was no more time to consider tactics; the bugbear was right in front of him.

Bredan came at Gakrak cautiously, wary of the clutter that surrounded them both. That proved prescient as the giant goblinoid abruptly kicked a loose crate in his direction. The crate was empty and did little damage as it bounced off Bredan's left hip, but it left him off-balance for just a moment. The bugbear exploited his advantage with a speed that belied his size, sweeping the axe around for a killing blow.

But Bredan was fast as well. He brought his sword up as he dodged, the two blades filling the room with a loud ring of steel that echoed off the surrounding walls. The impact knocked Bredan sideways into a stack of loose barrels that tottered threateningly against his weight. He managed to pull himself clear before he toppled over with them, a scant instant before his foe's axe smashed into one and shattered it into kindling.

Xeeta shifted in the narrow space, looking for an opening for her fire. As Bredan was flung aside she raised her rod and summoned her magic, only to lose the spell as a sharp pain exploded in her back.

Biting back a cry of pain, she turned to see that the goblin that Kosk had frightened off had returned. The creature looked pathetic in a moth-eaten linen shirt that had probably been scavenged, like all of the other junk that filled the room. But there was nothing pathetic in the silver-edged dagger it carried, already stained with her blood.

Stumbling back to gain space, Xeeta lifted her rod and unleashed a short spurt of fire from the tip. But at the last instant she had to dodge as the goblin tried to stab her, and the spell flashed wide past its target. It was perhaps fortunate that it struck the wall rather than the highly-flammable wooden and cloth furnishings stacked throughout the room, which might have complicated matters for both sides.

Glori finally managed to pull herself up out of the ruins of the crate where she'd fallen. Still wincing with the pain that shot through her body with each movement, she struggled to unlimber her bow. Her fingers felt thick and unresponsive as she fumbled for an arrow.

Kosk leapt up onto the heaped chairs and crates that partitioned the room. The uneven platform wavered under his feet, but he easily maintained his balance as he thrust his staff out at the bugbear. But the creature ducked back before the iron-tipped end of the staff could connect. Bredan took advantage of the distraction to regain a stable footing. He thrust forward with his heavy blade, forcing the bugbear back another step.

A shifting motion behind the bugbear drew their attention just as the upturned couch fell over and Quellan rose up behind it. The durability granted by his orcish heritage had allowed him to barely cling to consciousness even with the terrible wound in his side gushing blood. Bolstered by a quick healing spell, the cleric had a fire in his eyes as he lifted his mace and charged at the bugbear from behind. Gakrak heard him coming, but couldn't pivot with two foes ahead of him. But as Quellan slammed him with his mace the bugbear turned with the blow, absorbing what had to be a painful hit while thrusting back with the long haft of his weapon. The half-orc was struck hard in the gut, and he slumped once more to the floor. As Quellan struggled to draw in a breath the bugbear lifted his axe to finish him off.

"Die, you bloody bastard!" Kosk yelled. He jumped onto an adjacent chair, intending to leap onto the bugbear before he could strike down his friend, but even as he landed on it he could feel the rotten wood give way. The chair disintegrated, as did the empty crates underneath as the dwarf fell heavily onto them. For a moment Kosk vanished within the wreckage, the curses rising from the collapse telling them he was only temporarily out of the fight.

Gakrak chuckled at the dwarf's would-be heroics, but shot Bredan a quick glance. The young warrior raised his sword and charged, but he was too late to stop the big goblinoid from driving his axe down into Quellan's back, slamming the hapless cleric to the floor. Bredan yelled and lunged, but the bugbear spun quickly and almost casually knocked his thrust aside with the haft of his axe.

"You next," Gakrak said to Bredan.

Although she was engaged with her own foe, Xeeta could hear the titanic clashes of her allies against the bugbear and knew that they needed her help. She thought that her display of magic, inaccurate as it was, would drive the already-injured goblin to seek cover again, but to her surprise the creature sprang forward to attack. She brought her rod up to try to deflect its lunge, but to her surprise it reached up and grabbed hold of her focus instead of trying to stab her again. The unexpected maneuver caught her off guard, and the goblin was able to yank the ebony rod free of her grasp after just a quick struggle for possession.

The goblin lifted its prize, a feral look of triumph on its face. But that triumph faded when Xeeta raised her hand and flames burst from her fingers.

"I don't need that to burn you, you little idiot," she said.

Realizing its mistake, the goblin tried to flee, but this time it was too late.

Too late to save Quellan, Bredan pressed his attack against the bugbear. This time he anticipated Gakrak's quick evasions, and he was able to score a hit that tore a deep gash in the hides that covered his foe's left shoulder. Blood oozed up from the wound, but the bugbear didn't try to retreat as Bredan drew his weapon up for another strike. Instead he leapt forward, wrapping the arm on his injured side around the smith's broad shoulders and dragging them both against the wobbling row of barrels. The rotten wood sagged but held as the two combatants fought for position. Unable to use his sword, Bredan focused on staying upright as he tried to keep the weight of the bugbear from pinning him.

Gakrak flinched as an arrow thudded into his side. Bredan took advantage of the distraction and thrust the fist holding his sword against the side of the bugbear's face. He was rewarded with a solid crunch as the impact dislocated his enemy's jaw. The hulking goblinoid, now seriously injured, started to withdraw, but even as Bredan pushed himself up he could see the intent in the creature's eyes.

With blood pouring down his side and his crippled jaw hanging loosely, the bugbear lunged forward at his foe. There was no room for Bredan to dodge, and no time to get his sword up to absorb the creature's rush. Once again he was slammed into the barrel, but this time he went right through it and into the wall behind. The sheer mass of the bugbear knocked the breath from his lungs, and only the pressure of the creature's body against his kept him from falling.

He'd either dropped his sword or had it pinned; he couldn't tell. His entire right side felt numb. He lifted his left hand and grabbed hold of the bugbear's shoulder, intending to push him away. But he heard a chuckle and looked up to see Gakrak staring down at him. The creature shifted slightly, just enough for Bredan to see the axe that he was holding in his right hand like a spear.

Bredan heard someone yell his name, but could do nothing to stop the bugbear as it drove the steel point at the end of the axe deep into his body. The last thing he heard was Gakrak's voice rasping in his ear.

"Three."

* * * * *

Chapter 48

"Bredan!" Glori screamed.

Gakrak reached up and pushed off from the wall. As he moved, Bredan slumped to the floor, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his belly. It glistened on the spear-point at the end of the huge axe, leaving behind spatters on the floor and the shattered boards of the barrels as its owner shifted ponderously back toward the front of the room.

A rumbling announced the return of Kosk moments before the collapsed rampart of crates and chairs shifted and exploded outward. The dwarf came out at a run, lunging at the bugbear. Gakrak turned, moving more slowly now as his wounds took a toll, and took a punishing impact to his left leg just above the knee. The joint cracked out of alignment as the dwarf's staff drove into it, and the bugbear let out a hiss of pain. The creature swept his axe around, though rather feebly compared to the deadly strikes he had unleashed earlier, and Kosk was able to dodge back in time to avoid that questing edge.

Gakrak took a halting step after him, putting most of his weight on his good leg, but Kosk's retreat didn't last long. The dwarf fell back against the damaged crates but used them to push off—more carefully this time—and press his attack once more. The bugbear lifted his axe to intercept his rush, but before he could try another sweep another arrow slammed into his side. That was followed barely a heartbeat later by another bolt of fire that struck him in the neck, searing his exposed skin and splashing flames over his savaged jaw.

The twin impacts staggered the bugbear and left him vulnerable to Kosk's assault. The dwarf opened with his staff, delivering another punishing strike to Gakrak's damaged knee. That was too much for the limb, which crumpled. The bugbear fell awkwardly, and as he flapped his arms in a vain effort to gain purchase on the bloody floor Kosk spun and drove the heel of his foot hard into the foe's throat. Gakrak's angry cries became a thick gurgle as the monstrous combatant slid the rest of the way to the floor.

"One, you bastard," Kosk spat as the light faded from the bugbear's eyes.

Glori rushed forward, heedless of any fight that might be left in the dying bugbear as she jumped over their fallen foe and rushed to Bredan's side. The young warrior was unconscious, and blood continued to seep from the terrible wound in his belly as she fumbled for bandages in her pack.

"We have to help him... we have to..." she said while she worked. "Quellan! I need Quellan!"

Kosk knelt to check the injured cleric, frowning as he sought out the lifebeat in his friend's throat. "He's alive, but unconscious," he reported. "I'm glad I didn't insist on us leaving our packs outside this time," he added in an undertone. The blow from the bugbear's axe had been devastating, but the cleric's armor and his leather pack had absorbed much of its force.

"But... he has to heal Bredan..." Glori said.

"I'm sorry," Kosk said. "We're out of potions."

"You have to heal him," Xeeta said. Glori blinked and looked up at the tiefling, who'd followed her over and was standing near the remaining barrels. She was holding a bloody rag against her back, but at the moment she looked better off than the rest of them.

"But I... I can't, my lyre was destroyed..."

"No," Xeeta said. " _You_ have to heal him."

"But I..."

"He's dying!" Xeeta said. As if to punctuate her statement, Bredan's body shook with a soft gurgling cough. Blood trickled down from the sides of his mouth and speckled his lips.

"I don't have any magic..." Glori began, but before she could finish Xeeta knelt and took her hands. "I haven't known you very long, but I know a little something about magic. I don't know what your mentor told you, but it wasn't just your instrument, it was _you_ , it was always you. Your magic is in your music, and without your lyre, you have to make it on your own. You are the only one who can save him, and that's that."

The sorceress pulled back and rose to stand over them. Glori stared up at her for a moment and then turned back to Bredan. "Please," she whispered, a prayer to anyone who might be listening, then she began to sing.

The melody came easily, even without her lyre. The music was a part of her, her voice creating sounds that matched exactly the notes she heard in her mind. But while the song was potent, haunting, there was no thrum of magic accompanying it.

She kept on singing, digging deeper within herself, holding nothing back. Tears filled her vision, blurring Bredan's broken and bleeding form. She sang until her throat felt raw, and yet still nothing happened.

She had failed. Xeeta was wrong, she had no magic, had no secret power. Her best friend was going to die because of that lack, and she would have to live with it.

The song trailed off, and she lowered her heard.

A hand took hold of hers. She started to resist its grasp, thinking that it was Kosk or Xeeta, trying to pull her away. That would mean that Bredan was dead, and she wasn't ready to accept that.

But then a soft rasp of a voice shook her back to full awareness.

"Glori."

She opened her eyes and blinked away the tears to see Bredan looking up at her. He still looked horrible, his armor covered in blood, his clothes savagely torn, but he was alive, and he even managed to pull himself up a bit.

She could only stare at him. "You're alive."

"Thanks to you. You pulled me back, Glori. I heard the music, and it pulled me back..."

Any response she might have offered was consumed as they enfolded each other in a furious embrace.

* * * * *

Chapter 49

While the others rested, Kosk and Xeeta cautiously explored further into the cellar.

Bredan tried to join them, but Kosk ordered him to stay put. Even with Glori's healing the smith remained weak, and the dwarf pointed out that in his current condition a runt goblin with a club could knock him again through Death's door, and this time the bard wouldn't have a spell to pull him back over.

Glori was hardly in better shape herself, and she remained with Bredan and the unconscious Quellan while the monk and tiefling went looking for the missing Northpiner boy.

Aware that they were hardly unscathed, Kosk and Xeeta began their explorations slowly and cautiously. After verifying that there were no more threats lingering in the cluttered confines of the goblin lair, they pressed on into the side passage they'd spotted earlier. Without Bredan there was no need to bring a light that would betray their approach, and without the metal-clad warriors in their midst they made barely a sound as they slipped forward.

The passage turned into a long hallway that clearly extended beyond the foundations of the estate house above them. The tunnel was packed earth, reinforced by wooden beams and thick planks that supported the ceiling at regular intervals. After a short distance they passed a small room on their left. The place was crowded with a massive bed that had been assembled from several smaller pieces of furniture.

"Looks like our friend Gakrak took his rest here," Xeeta said.

Kosk grunted in agreement as he leaned into the room. He was greeted by a rich funk that seemed to confirm the tiefling's assessment. There was an earthy mustiness under that reek that suggested that place might have once been an herb cellar. Bits of faded greenery were still visible in the packed dirt of the floor.

There was a chest near the foot of the bed, but Kosk ignored it for the moment, lingering only long enough to confirm that the room was empty before gesturing his companion on. They continued down the tunnel, which bent slightly to the left and then continued on for a good thirty or forty paces before ending in a door.

"This looks like a fairly recent addition," Xeeta observed. "And rather slipshod work." She ran a hand along the threshold, which had been hammered into place around several of the support beams that supported the ceiling. The door hung crooked, with gaps around the edges that were wide enough to squeeze her fingers through without difficulty. In place of a latch the door was secured with two wedges of wood that had been hammered into the jam.

"They probably took one of the doors from upstairs and installed it down here," Kosk said.

"Makes you wonder what they were protecting, doesn't it?" Xeeta asked.

"It could be another way out," Kosk said. He pressed his face up against the edge of the door, peering through one of the cracks. "Light, and fresh air," he said.

"Shall we see?"

"Get your blasting stick ready, just in case," the dwarf said. He waited until the sorceress was in position, then used his staff to free the wedges holding the door shut. Once those were clear it opened, with some reluctance due to the poor alignment of the hinges, but Kosk got it wide enough to reveal what was beyond.

The tunnel continued for a short distance further before it culminated in a steep slope that rose up to a narrow opening above. The exit was surrounded by dense bushes that extended into the interior, but they could see a small patch of blue sky through the growth.

"Looks like this was a hidden escape route for the owners of the manor house," Kosk said. "Not uncommon in these sorts of isolated settlements. Probably how the goblins came and went."

"Avoiding the hazards in the manor," Xeeta agreed. "Should we go back?"

"No reason not to," Kosk said. "I never thought the kid would be here."

They retraced their steps, and steeling themselves against the stench of the bugbear's quarters they went back to the chest they'd bypassed earlier. It had a hasp lock that was broken and ruined, so they had no difficulty getting at its contents. Those contents included a heavy wool cloak that looked to be in decent shape, a bag full of biscuits that had the consistency of iron ingots, and a bulging sack. The sack clinked as Kosk lifted it, which proved promising until he opened it to reveal that it was full of copper coins.

"I guess Gakrak and his little band weren't very good at banditry," Xeeta said.

Kosk tied off the sack and looked up at her. "Don't give up so easily," he said.

The dwarf proceeded to tear the room apart. He poked through all of the bedding before separating the bed into its components, pushing them into the corners of the room. As he was doing that his foot scraped on something that drew his attention. The source turned out to be a loose stone that he pried up with one of Xeeta's daggers to reveal a concealed space below. There was another chest in that hidden niche, this one banded in iron and with a fully-intact lock securing the front.

"Ah, that's more like it," Kosk said. Grunting with effort, he lifted the chest up out of its cubby.

"Should we force it open?" Xeeta asked.

"That may not be necessary," Kosk said. "I think I might have an idea of where we'll find the key."

It only took a minute to confirm the dwarf's theory. They went back to the cellar annex where they'd left the others and searched the dead bugbear. At first they didn't find anything; Gakrak's pouch was empty except for a sling and a few stones, and his bloodstained garments didn't have any pockets. Xeeta even pulled off his boots to check them, grimacing at the fresh stench that was unleashed. But Kosk didn't give up, and finally he found the key on a long throng around the bugbear's neck, tucked under his armor.

Glori had come over to watch them. "No sign of the boy?"

"He was never here," Kosk said. "The goblin was lying."

"We found a treasure chest," Xeeta said.

"Oh?" Glori asked, interested. But Kosk insisted again that she remain to watch over their injured companions while he and Xeeta went to learn what they had found.

The key fit perfectly in the lock, and the chest opened to reveal a decent haul of loot. This time there were three sacks, filled with sorted piles of gold, silver, and electrum coins. Wedged into the back of the chest behind the sacks was a copper plate, which Kosk pronounced to be of little value, but under that was a small wrap of faded leather that from its feel had a few items inside. The throng holding it shut fell to pieces as the dwarf pulled at it, and he carefully unfolded the wrap to see what it held.

Inside the roll of leather was an ivory statuette, small enough to fit easily in Kosk's hand. It had been carved into the shape of an armored knight, with an attention to detail that showed considerable craftsmanship. The dwarf stared at it for a moment before handing it to Xeeta.

"That's good work," she said. "What's that there?" she said, looking back over his shoulder.

"Crossbow bolts," he said, taking two thin shafts out of the wrap. Their heads were silvered and stamped with runes that looked obviously magical. "For the boy, assuming he ever gets to use the damned weapon." He handed those to Xeeta as well, but before she could examine them the dwarf let out a satisfied sound.

"What?" she asked.

In response he held up two small metal flasks. Each was marked with a single rune that both adventurers recognized.

"Healing potions?" Xeeta asked.

Kosk gently shook one of the flasks to confirm it was full. "Aye. And unless they're full of poison or something, it means we'll get out of here sooner rather than later."

* * * * *

Chapter 50

Glori lifted her head and pressed a mostly-dry towel to her dripping face and hair. She glanced down at the washbasin and saw flecks of dirt and dry blood around the rim. The water that remained was cloudy. This was the third time she'd washed since they had returned from the estate house and the cellars underneath it, and she still wasn't clean. She had a feel that it would be a while before she felt fully clean again, in a way that had nothing to do with dirt.

She looked up and regarded herself in the mirror over the small dresser that held the basin. The mirror was cheap and blurry, but it was probably for the best that she couldn't see her own face clearly at that moment. Her clothes were new; the ones she'd worn to the estate were no longer fit even for rags. Maybe the villagers would burn them.

"You wanted to be an adventurer," she said to her reflection. Her doppelganger didn't respond, of course, and after a moment she sighed. She turned to the bed where she'd laid out her gear, but was interrupted by a firm knock on the door.

Her first instinct was to reach for her dagger, sitting on the bed in its scabbard, but she silently berated herself and with an effort of will went to the door. But she paused with her fingers on the latch-handle. "Who is it?" she asked.

"Quellan," came the low rumble through the wooden panel.

She opened the door to find the cleric standing there in the hallway. He'd taken off his suit of scale armor, but he managed to look imposing even in a simple robe of undyed gray wool. He was carrying a parcel under one arm, a package that might have been bulky for her but which seemed barely an afterthought for a man of his size.

"Ah... I'm sorry, I wasn't... do you want something?" she asked.

"Just a moment of your time," he said. "May I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." She stepped back to let him come into the room. "Sorry for the mess."

"You should see the room I'm sharing with Kosk," he said. He glanced down at her bed. "You're keeping that sword?"

She looked down at the sword that had been the property of Colum, before the giant mantises had done for him on the way to the estate house. "Yeah. Figured I could get Bredan to teach me how to use it. Don't tell that local noble, okay? I figured he'd be the sort of guy to ask for it back."

"Your secret is safe with me." He stood there in the center of the small room, suddenly awkward.

"What's that you've got there?" she asked, nodding toward the parcel.

"Oh, this. It's yours."

She started to protest, but then saw what it was when he started to pull away the cloth wrapping it. Her eyes threatened to fill up, but she angrily blinked them clear. "How did you..."

"You left it in the pile with all the other extra stuff we brought back from the estate. I thought you'd want it back."

She ran her hands over the lyre, her fingers lingering on the curve where the bugbear's thrown axe had shattered the metal. It was now fully intact, and he'd somehow even found new strings for it. Her fingertips traveled reflexively to the strings, and while the instrument was out of tune it was otherwise as if it had never been damaged.

"How?" was all she could manage.

"I took it to the local priest. He knows a mending spell. It cannot restore magic items, of course, but..."

That pulled her attention from the restored lyre and she looked up at it. "The lyre's not magical. It never was." She turned away and laid it on the bed.

"You haven't changed since yesterday," he said. "Now you know the magic is in you, and not the lyre. You're still the person you were before. The magic doesn't change that."

"I know that, intellectually, but I can't help but _feel_ different. I don't know, I guess I'm not making sense right now."

"Actually, it's quite understandable," Quellan said.

She gave him a wry grin. "Well. You've known that you've been a spellcaster for longer than I have."

"While I can channel the power of my patron, I don't consider that power to be the feature that defines me," Quellan said. "I'd like to think that even without it, I'd be the person I've set out to be."

"I'm sure you would," she said. "Anyway, thanks. For the lyre. It was a nice gesture."

"It was my pleasure. Are you going to come down and join us? As a priest I'm supposed to be above such things, but I must admit the thought of a hot meal prepared in an actual kitchen is quite appealing."

"Maybe later," she said. "I just need a little time."

"Of course," he said. He turned back to the door, careful not to jostle any of the surrounding furniture in the cramped quarters.

"Quellan?" she asked, causing him to hesitate in the doorway.

"Yes?"

"Thanks again."

* * *

Bredan tried not to think about the persistent twinges in his belly as he made his way down the stairs. His wounds had all been healed, but apparently even divine magic could not fully erase the lingering effects of what had been done to him. But those persistent pains were offset by the feeling of relief at not having the weight of his armor bearing down on him. He was going to have to talk to the local smith tomorrow about repairing the gaping hole in the front of the armor, but for now he allowed himself an hour's freedom of not worrying about the next day.

The common room of the inn was busy, but he spotted Kosk at once. The dwarf sat alone at a table that had a generous breadth of extra space around it. Bredan could have chalked that up to the monk's personality, but he thought he sensed something else in the crowd of villagers, a current of wariness and alarm that seemed to pervade the general mood. He supposed he could not blame them for being worried. It was one thing to know that you lived in a dangerous world, and another to learn that not one but two bands of hostile enemies had been living less than a day's walk from your home.

He went over to the bar and asked for a mug of ale. Several of the locals sent respectful nods his way, but none tried to start a conversation. He handed over a few coins for the drink and made his way over to the table where the dwarf was seated.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Suit yourself."

Bredan pulled back a chair and settled into it, ignoring the twist of protest in his gut. It faded quickly, however, and he was able to relax before he took his first sip of the rich local brew. "That is nice," he said.

Kosk didn't respond. A mostly-full mug sat next to him on the table. "Where's Quellan?" Bredan asked.

"He said he had an errand in town."

Bredan nodded and settled back comfortably in his chair, focusing on his drink. The silence stretched out between them, untouched by the low din around them, until finally Kosk's face twisted up like he'd swallowed something unpleasant and he asked, "How's your girl?"

"She's all right," Bredan said. "She said... she needed some time alone. I think what happened... it was hard for her."

"You know that it's only going to get rougher in the north," Kosk said quietly.

"I know," Bredan said. "She does, too. Said as much when I tried to tell her the same thing, when we got back."

He thought for a moment. "I don't regret leaving Crosspath," he finally said. "Everything that's happened... even our decision to stay here and help these people." He glanced around to make sure none of the locals were listening, then leaned forward across the table and added, "Even if we don't find that missing boy, I think we've done something important here. I feel like... like we're getting ready for something. Something important." He snorted and leaned back in his chair. "I guess that probably sounds pretty stupid to you."

Kosk's expression was a neutral mask, but after a moment he shook his head. "No, it doesn't sound stupid."

"I suppose you were right before, about us not being ready. I mean, I almost got myself killed taking on that bugbear."

"You did all right," Kosk said. For a moment it looked like he would say more, then he looked up past Bredan and frowned. "Bloody hells," he said.

Bredan turned just in time to see the front door swing open and a familiar figure come into the common room. From the soft titter that filled the room it was clear that Nordrum's reputation among the village council extended to the rest of the village as well.

The sage saw them and made a beeline for their table. "Gentlemen," he said. "I heard you got back. Your companions?"

"Busy," Kosk said.

"Well, you can impart what I have to say to them." Without asking permission he took the last free chair and sat down between them.

"Look, Master Nordrum," Bredan said. "If this is about the missing boy..."

"I must be honest with you and say that I do not think that the poor youth is at the old ruin," the sage said. "Though I believe that my fears about the site remain justifiable."

"Hostile magic," Kosk said.

"Not hostile per se, but certainly dangerous," Nordrum said. "Please... I know that you have already made a significant detour from your objective to help the people of this town, but the ruin is not far, it would only take another day, perhaps two, to verify what I say is true."

"We know something about ancient magic," Bredan said. "What is it that's at this ruin?"

"I am not certain," the sage said. At Kosk's look he quickly added, "Please, I beg you, hear me out. Yes, it is true that the people of Northpine consider me to be touched in the head, obsessed even. You will likely join them in that assessment if I told you all that I know, how I was drawn to this place. Maybe I am mad, I don't know. But if I am right, then this village may be in danger."

"You didn't answer the question," Kosk said. "Okay, you're not certain. But what do you _think_ is there?"

"Power. Lore of a bygone age. Writings... inscriptions, engravings, old books centuries old. Perhaps an artifact, something small, yet potent..."

"A crystal?" Bredan asked.

Nordrum gave him a steely look. "Perhaps. Why, do you know..."

"This is the first time we've ever heard anything of this place," Kosk quickly interrupted, as much to forestall Bredan as to answer the sage. "If this power is so dangerous, how do we know that you can be trusted with it? Or for that matter, that we won't simply take it and be on our way?"

Nordrum blinked in surprise. "I... you wouldn't do that? Would you? As for trust... I know people who understand this power, and can keep it contained. It would be safe, both to the people here and from those who would use its power for evil."

"Well, that eases my conscience," Kosk said dryly.

"Please. I can pay you for your time," Nordrum said. "Even if the ruin is empty, it would be a relief... just to know."

"Just for reference, how much are we talking about here?" Bredan asked.

Nordrum took another look around and then leaned forward conspiratorially. "I've been here longer than I expected... drew down my resources... but you're going to Adelar, yes? I can give you a writ you can cash out at the Mercantile Guild in the city for... five hundred golds?"

Bredan coughed and quickly took a sip of his drink.

"We'll need to talk it over with our companions," Kosk said.

"Of course. You know where to find me, if you need any more information. Here is a map to the ruin." He drew out a tightly folded square of parchment and slid it across the table toward the dwarf. The sage waited until Kosk had picked it up before he got up and quickly left the way he had come.

"Well," Bredan said. "That guy doesn't seem all there."

"He remind you of anyone?" Kosk asked. He held the parchment in his hand, but he didn't unfold it.

"Who... Starfinder? She wasn't like him."

"Intensely dedicated, even obsessed. Willing to turn over huge sums to virtual strangers to brave a location they could easily walk to themselves."

"Well... the shrine of the Eth'barat was dangerous."

"I expect we'll find the same if we go hunting this ruin," Kosk said.

"I know we just found those sacks of coin at the mansion... but five hundred is a lot of gold. Assuming he was telling the truth about having the money in Adelar."

"It's not uncommon in the south for sums to be transferred that way," Kosk said absently. "Even up here a man could find himself in a lot of trouble, throwing around the name of the Mercantile Guild without the credit to back it up."

"So what do you think we should do?" Bredan asked.

Kosk looked down at his mug, and picked it up. "Like I told the sage. We need to talk it over with our companions. But first I think I am going to finish this drink."

* * * * *

Chapter 51

The skies were clear as the adventurers made their third excursion into the wild country that surrounded Northpine. The landscape was familiar by now, low hills covered by fringes of boulders and dry growth, copses of trees that occasionally thickened into more substantial patches of forest, and the omnipresent prickleburrs and thorny weeds that lashed at their leggings as they walked.

This time they had no road or path to follow, and while they rarely encountered obstacles substantial enough to force them to retrace their steps, their progress was slow through the uneven terrain. But Nordrum's research had apparently led to a fairly precise location of their destination, and they had little difficulty following the simple map—accompanied by a complex list of instructions on the back of the parchment sheet—that he'd provided them.

It was a warm day, and fairly quiet save for the occasional rustle of a small creature in the brush and the constant buzzing of insects. A single raptor hung in the bare blue skies above, seeming to monitor their progress through its territory.

Their surroundings were quiet, but the adventurers kept up a busy chatter as they made their way further from the village.

"So we don't know exactly what we're looking for, or even if it exists at all," Glori said.

"That's about the sum of it," Kosk growled, swatting at a bug that persistently buzzed around his face. He caught the insect and crushed it, but within two steps another had replaced it, and he scowled.

"He seemed legitimately concerned," Bredan said.

"If there is a dangerous magic here, this close to the village, it is our duty to deal with it," Quellan said. "Left untended, minor threats can become major problems."

"What do you think is there?" Glori asked. "Another artifact like the stone?"

"Stone?" Xeeta asked.

"Just another job," Kosk said.

"A paying job," Glori pointed out. "You think the sage is good for it, Bredan?"

"I don't know," he said. "I mean, it seemed like it. Kosk said that it's common for folk to use notes of credit in the south."

"That is true," Quellan said. "I have even seen such notes at the monastery in Crosspath, from time to time."

"Even if this sage is being honest about his finances, it does not explain his motivations," Xeeta pointed out. The tiefling had let her magical disguise lapse shortly after they'd left Northpine that morning, but she kept the cowl of her cloak up despite the building warmth of the day, keeping her distinctive features hidden under the concealing fabric.

"We can reserve judgment until we see what, if anything, is to be found at this ruin," Quellan said.

"I notice you didn't say anything about the boy," Glori said.

"The sage admitted that it's unlikely we'd find him at this place," Bredan said.

"It may be unlikely," Quellan admitted. "But at least we will know that we investigated all of the options before we resumed our journey north."

"At this rate the war will be over by the time we get there," Kosk muttered.

Around noon the terrain became rockier, the trees thinning out and the tangles of dry brush becoming stringier and smaller except in deeper gullies where water tended to collect. That allowed them to improve their pace somewhat, though they remained alert to the landmarks that Nordrum had indicated on his map. According to the sage they should reach the ruin before nightfall, although unless they found what they were looking for immediately, it was likely they'd have to spend the night there. They'd brought enough extra supplies for several days of camping, just in case.

After a brief pause for rest and a quick lunch, they continued on their way. With the sun beating down on them and few opportunities for shade, the day quickly became oppressive even for those not wearing armor, and eventually even Xeeta took off her cloak. The tiefling looked self-conscious as she carefully folded it and tucked it through the straps of her pack, though they hadn't seen a single traveler since they'd left Northpine hours before. They knew they were only a few miles from the road that had brought them to the village, but it felt like they were in a true wilderness, untouched by the busy arts of civilized hands.

They were climbing a low rise cluttered with an assortment of large boulders when Quellan cursed and stopped.

"You okay?" Glori asked.

"Yeah. It's my armor."

Bredan came over and took a look. All of their gear was starting to look rather ragged. The dwarven smith in Northpine, Sindrix Strongarm, had done what he could to make quick repairs to Bredan's mail and Quellan's scale armor, but both suits needed several days of attention in a well-stocked armorer's forge. Bredan said as much as he examined the half-orc's armor and unpacked his tools.

"We can get our gear tended to more thoroughly in Adelar," Quellan said. "They'll have armorers there."

"You might want to consider investing in something more substantial," Bredan said. "A suit of half-plate would provide much better protection, and won't be that much heavier or cumbersome if it's crafted well."

"That's all we need, more metal clanking about whenever we move," Kosk said.

Bredan looked over at him. "If it stops a spearhead or deflects an arrow, it's worth it," he said. "And we can afford it, what with what we found at the estate, plus what the sage promised."

"Don't count your riches just yet," Kosk said. "I know that pile of coins seems like a fortune to you, but it won't go nearly as far in a place like Adelar, especially with a war going on to drive up prices."

"For someone who claims not to be interested in money, you sure seem to know a lot about it," Glori said.

Bredan twisted a wire with a set of pliers and gave Quellan's armor a quick tug. "All right, I think you're good for now, but I should take another look at it tonight in camp," he told the cleric.

"Thank you, Bredan."

"Can we get moving now?" Kosk asked. "I'd prefer we find this place before nightfall."

They resumed their winding course through the field of boulders, with Kosk in the lead and Xeeta bringing up the rear. "Speaking of riches, do you still have that odd key we found in the shrine?" Bredan asked Glori.

"The jade dagger?" she asked. "It's wrapped up in the bottom of my pack. I haven't found a place where I could sell it yet. I was thinking there would be jewel merchants in Adelar who would offer a good price for it."

"Could be it's worth a few hundred more golds, maybe?"

"Maybe. It's difficult to tell with odd items like that," Glori said.

"That is true," Xeeta chimed in from behind them. "Sometimes there's a collector who will pay many times an item's raw value in precious metal or rare gemstone, just because it's unusual or historically significant."

"Hmm. I wonder if the sage would be willing to pay for it," Bredan said. "Especially if this ruin and the... the other one are connected." He glanced back at Xeeta as he changed what he'd been about to say, but the tiefling didn't seem concerned at the edit.

"Maybe we should have Kosk appraise it," Glori said. "Since he seems so knowledgeable about economic issues."

Bredan barked a laugh, and Glori joined in. Even Quellan's lips twisted into a smile, though he quickly hid it as Kosk turned around. "In case you lot have forgotten, we're in the bloody wilderness, not a bloody tavern—"

He trailed off as a deep, guttural sound arose from behind a boulder the size of a cottage directly behind him. The companions shared a quick look then reached for their weapons. The noise wasn't repeated, but it had sounded close, as if whatever it was had been directly on the other side of the massive stone.

Silent now, the companions crept forward to see what was ahead of them.

As they edged around the boulder, they could see what looked like a small, temporary camp. A few nasty-looking furs had been tossed haphazardly among the surrounding rocks, along with a slab of wood that looked oddly out of place until a huge hand reached and grabbed hold of it.

The hand belonged to a massive figure that stepped into view as it rose up out of the shelter of the boulder. The companions' jaws dropped as they stared up—and up, for the creature was almost twenty feet tall, with a bulk that caused the ground to shudder underneath them as it shifted its feet. It was clad in a clout of fur fastened around its hips, with fur leggings protecting its feet and shins. But its most arresting feature was its face, or more precisely the single eye set in the middle of it that blinked as the giant regarded the adventurers.

"Cyclops!" Quellan hissed.

"Um..." Bredan said.

The cyclops didn't give him a chance to say more, as it lifted its club menacingly and let out a violent roar before taking a ground-shaking step toward them.

* * * * *

Chapter 52

For a moment, the adventurers could only stare up at the massive giant in overwhelmed horror. For all its size, the creature moved ponderously, and now that it was in full view they could see that it was injured. Dried blood covered its arms and torso, and half-healed scars crisscrossed its bare chest. The broken shaft of an arrow jutted from one bicep, the missile like a tiny sliver against its bulk.

But wounded or no, the cyclops was still a dangerous foe. As it took one more slow step toward them both Kosk and Bredan stepped forward, the dwarf spinning his staff, the smith unfastening his baldric with trembling fingers. But before either could launch themselves at the giant, Quellan grabbed hold of both of them.

"We cannot defeat this foe! Run!"

Kosk shook off the half-orc's grasp, but the delay had given Glori an opportunity to walk past all of them toward the creature. "Glori, no!" Bredan yelled.

Glori did not stop or look back. The cyclops looked down at her, the bard seeming pathetically frail in contrast to the giant. But before it could decide whether to stomp her or smash her with its club she took up her lyre and began strumming a melody upon it.

The music filled the air. The cyclops blinked, and the warriors likewise hesitated, wary of the danger but unwilling to jeopardize whatever it was that their companion was trying to do. Xeeta had already begun to retreat even before Quellan's shouted warning, but she lingered about twenty steps away, her rod clutched tightly in her hands.

Glori continued to play. The cyclops shifted in a way that was menacing simply due to its size, but it did not attack.

Without stopping her playing, Glori began to sing. None of them could understand the words, but the melody was calming, a haunting lullaby that tugged at their tired minds, urging them to rest, to put down their burdens and relax.

The giant's club came down. As the companions watched in surprise, it turned and sat down. The boulder was just a bit too large for it to use it as a chair, but it settled its weight against it, letting the club slide out of its grasp onto the ground.

Glori looked over at Quellan and gestured with her head for him to come to her. Moving slowly, careful not to make any threatening moves, the cleric did so. The others remained where they were, but kept a ready grasp on their weapons.

"I'm keeping him calm, but I don't think he speaks Common," she whispered to the cleric.

Quellan nodded. He looked up at the giant and spoke to it a deep, gravelly tongue.

After a moment, the cyclops responded.

Bredan sidled closer to Quellan, careful of doing anything that could disturb Glori's hold over the creature. But the bard kept on playing softly, and the cyclops seemed, for the moment, to be quiescent. "What did he say?" he asked quietly.

"I asked him what happened, how he got injured," Quellan said. "He said it was orcs. Many orcs."

"Ah, that could explain why it reacted with so much hostility on seeing us," Xeeta observed. Bredan started slightly; he hadn't heard her approach.

"Don't think for a second that this beastie wouldn't stomp us all in a second if it got the chance," Kosk muttered. "Giants will kill just for the sake of killing."

"Where did this happen?" Glori asked. Bredan looked up at the cyclops in alarm, but apparently the bard could speak without disrupting her spell.

Quellan passed the question on to the cyclops in the Giant language, and after a moment it answered in a long rumbling line of syllables that sounded like a rockslide in progress. Finally, the cleric turned to them and said, "He was at the ruin."

"Big surprise," Kosk said.

"Was that its lair? Did the orcs drive it off?" Bredan asked. "And how many is 'many'?"

"You're assuming this thing can count past five," Kosk said.

"I got the impression that Corbrus is a wanderer," Quellan said. "He is not from this region originally, but from the north."

"A refugee of sorts, perhaps," Xeeta said.

Kosk snorted, but did it quietly. "A deadly dangerous one. You may be on a first-name basis with the thing, but don't think we're all friends just because our girl's got the pebble that serves as its brain ensnared in her magic."

The giant rumbled something else, and Quellan answered. "He asked what we are doing here," he said.

"Don't tell him about Northpine," Bredan hissed.

"He's not an idiot," Kosk said.

Quellan continued to speak. After he finished, he said to the others, "I told him that we are hunting the orcs, who attacked some of our people far away from here."

"Will he believe that?" Bredan whispered.

"Giants aren't generally known for their sharp wits," Kosk returned.

"Um, I think we shouldn't stay here any longer than we have to," Glori said.

"She's right," Xeeta said. "This situation is not stable."

"We can't let him wander around and possibly make his way to Northpine," Bredan said.

"I agree," Quellan said. "Glori, can you direct him to head a different way, away from the village?"

"I don't think I have that degree of control over him," she said.

"Right," Kosk said. "We take it out, then."

"How?" Bredan asked. "I can't even reach higher than his legs."

"Then you chop it down, and stab it when it falls," Kosk said.

"Um... how good is his hearing, do you think?" Xeeta asked.

They all looked up at the cyclops, but he didn't seem to be interested in their mutterings. But neither did he seem all that discomfited by its wounds.

"It's too dangerous," Quellan said. "Even with surprise, I'm not sure we could defeat this foe, at least before he could kill one of us."

"Then we just leave him be, and hope he doesn't head the way we came?" Bredan asked.

"Let me try talking to him," Quellan said.

They stood back while the cleric addressed the creature in its language. The giant responded a few times, but mostly listened as Quellan spoke to it at length. Finally, the cleric drew back and gestured for them to follow him as he backed off and then led them away roughly in the direction they'd been originally traveling. The companions kept on looking back, in particular Bredan, but the cyclops merely remained leaning against the boulder until they went around the curve of the next hill and it disappeared behind them.

"Wow," Bredan said once they were clear. "That was impressive, Glori. I didn't know you could do that."

The bard stretched the fingers of her strumming hand and put her pick away. "I didn't either, actually. I started playing the song that lets me charm animals... and I was able to, I don't know, change it somehow. It was mostly luck, I think."

"Your power is growing," Xeeta said.

"What did you say to it?" Kosk asked the cleric.

"I told him that if he sees the rest of our army, to please point them in the direction we went."

The others all looked at Quellan for a long moment, then Glori laughed. "Deception, from you?" she said. "Now _I'm_ the one who's impressed."

Quellan couldn't blush, but he clearly was embarrassed at the comment.

"It may not believe you, or it may not care," Kosk reminded them.

"All the more reason to finish our mission quickly and get back to Northpine, so we can warn them," Quellan said.

"At least now we know where those orcs that the elven scouts were looking for ended up," Glori said.

"First kobolds, then goblins, and now orcs," Kosk said. "This bloody village is either the unluckiest place in the kingdom, or it's cursed."

"It may be that the conflict in the north is driving more humanoids into King Dangren's lands," Xeeta said. "This could be just the beginning of a disturbing trend."

"We still don't know how many orcs are waiting for us at this ruin," Bredan said. "Or how fortified the place is."

"It's a ruin," Kosk said. "From what the sage said, a very old one. There may be some stone walls left intact, but it will hardly be a fortress. As for the numbers, we know from the elves that there weren't that many left after they ran them off from their forest up north. We can handle a few orcs."

"Corbrus couldn't," Glori said.

That killed the conversation for a lengthy interval. Finally, Quellan said, "At least we know what we're getting into this time."

"Let's hope we don't get in over our heads," Bredan said.

"We won't, if we shut up and pay attention to where we're going," Kosk said.

They took his advice and continued in silence, moving steadily deeper into the hills. High above them, the solitary hawk continued tracing lonely circles in the empty sky.

* * * * *

Chapter 53

"I don't see any sentries," Glori said.

"They're there," Kosk said. "Orcs aren't the brightest, but they're not that stupid."

Glori sent a quick look at Quellan, but the half-orc acted as if he hadn't heard the comment, staring at the ruin ahead of them with an intent look on his face.

Bredan shifted and stifled a sneeze. What came out was barely louder than their whispered conversation, but all of his companions shot him an alarmed look. With an apologetic shrug the smith drew back deeper into the cover of the fringe of weeds that protected their hilltop vantage.

"Let's pull back before we do something to let them know we're here," Kosk said.

The companions carefully crept backwards until they were well behind the crest of the hill, then they carefully made their way back to the shelter of the copse of trees at its base. With the forewarning from the cyclops they had approached the ruin carefully, remaining in cover until they could locate a spot from which they could observe the site covertly.

The ruin was situated atop a low rise that was studded with boulders. There wasn't much left, just a few crumbling walls and irregular foundations. On the northern end of the site, just beyond the ruins, there was a thirty-foot cliff that ascended to a truncated bluff overlooking the entire area. It looked like there might be the remains of another structure up there, but it also could have just been a natural feature. It would be impossible to tell for sure without getting closer.

What they could see were plenty of places where a watching orc could be hiding.

"I think we should approach from the east," Kosk said as soon as they were under the cover of the trees. "There's more cover that way and we can be on them quickly."

"Perhaps we should not rush headlong into an unknown danger," Xeeta said.

"It's not unknown, we know they're there," Kosk said.

"But we do not know exactly where they are, or how many there are, or what traps or ambushes they have laid," the tiefling explained patiently. "Let me scout ahead first."

"You can scout?" Bredan asked.

"I have some small talent at avoiding notice," she said.

"That's something that will come in useful in this group," Glori said.

Kosk looked doubtful. He didn't say anything, but his feelings were clearly written on his face. Xeeta sighed and said, "If it is still a matter of trust, after what we have been through together..."

"I trust you, Xeeta," Quellan said. "See what you can find, but be careful."

"Yeah, if you get into trouble, just yell and we'll come running," Bredan said.

The tiefling smirked at him, then slipped out of her pack. She put her folded cloak onto it, then slipped out of her tunic, leaving just a light undershirt that highlighted the curves of her form. The bright red tint to her skin covered her entire body; if she was self-conscious, there was no way of knowing.

"They'll see you coming from a mile off, girl," Kosk said.

Xeeta offered him a smile, then held her rod and concentrated for a moment. As she called her magic her skin began to darken, transforming into a mottled pattern of pale grays and browns that closely matched the dry growth and bare rock of their surroundings. Even the pale ivory of her horns changed to a tan that fit with her overall camouflage. Her remaining clothes were already dark enough that they did not spoil the overall effect.

"That is cool," Glori said.

Xeeta smiled—even her teeth had darkened—then turned and darted off toward the curve of the hillside. She made barely a sound, and within twenty steps she vanished into the background of the landscape.

"Okay, she's good," Glori said.

"It won't do any good if she steps on a deadfall or tripwire," Kosk said.

"Should we go back up and watch?" Glori asked.

"It's unlikely we'd see her, and if we raise any more dust by moving around we might alert our foes," Quellan pointed out. "We're close enough that we'll hear if she runs into trouble."

They waited there in silence, the shade provided by the trees offering only partial relief from the hot, dusty air. Bredan drank deeply from his waterskin and adjusted the fit of his baldric. Glori tested her bowstring and shifted her lyre so it wouldn't get tangled up with the strap of her quiver. They'd already stored their packs in case they had to rush off into a fight, but as the minutes crept on the tension thickened.

"Shouldn't she be back by now?" Glori finally asked.

"It's possible that she had to circle all the way around the ruin to find a good approach," Quellan said, but it was clear from his expression that he too was worried.

Kosk muttered something under his breath.

"What do you think, should we go take a look?" Bredan asked.

"That won't be necessary," a voice said from directly behind them.

They all spun in time to see Xeeta step forward into full view. Apparently, she'd been able to approach to within five paces completely undetected. She maintained the mottled camouflage pattern of her spell, but once revealed they could see her easily.

"What did you find?" Glori asked.

"The ruin's in pretty bad shape," Xeeta said. "There's not much left. There are two orc sentries in one of the more intact buildings. They weren't all that alert, but they'll almost certainly hear your approach. One of them has a signal horn."

"Where are the rest of them?" Bredan asked.

"I didn't see them, but there's a cave entrance along the base of those cliffs, directly behind the ruin. There's a clear path leading through the weeds to it, and a big heap of trash just outside. I couldn't get closer without risking detection, but I'd say they're very likely inside."

"So we still don't know how many we're facing," Quellan said.

"That's why we need a plan," Kosk said. "Surprise attack."

"That would be a welcome change, us being the ones doing the ambushing," Glori said.

"How close can we get?" Quellan asked.

Xeeta considered before responding. "Kosk was right about the best cover being to the east. But the growth thins out considerably once you get to the base of the slope leading up to the ruin. I'd say a hundred paces, at best."

"That's a real long bowshot," Glori said. "We'd be lucky to score a hit at that range."

"We could lure them in," Bredan said. "Make them come to us."

"What if they decide to take cover in the ruins, and shoot back?" Glori asked.

"That won't be a problem," Quellan said. "Orcs move quickly, and they'll charge on sight." He looked troubled, and after a moment Glori reached out and touched his arm.

"We can use that to our advantage, right?" Bredan asked. "Especially if we can hit them as they come out of the cave."

"We'll still need to deal with the sentries," Kosk said.

"I can deal with them," Xeeta said.

"You'll be on the flank, alone," Kosk said. "If you get into trouble, we won't be able to get to you quickly."

"I can take care of myself," Xeeta said. "Unless you still don't trust me."

"We've seen what you can do," Quellan said. "It's just that we want to make sure we all get out of this alive."

"Yeah, especially after last time," Bredan said. When the others all turned and looked at him, he blinked and said, "What?"

"It's a decent plan," Kosk said. "All right," he said to Xeeta. "Give us some time to get into position, then we'll wait for your signal."

"How will we know when you're ready?" Bredan asked.

"Don't worry, you'll know," Xeeta said.

* * * * *

Chapter 54

Xeeta felt a ball of tension growing in her belly as she made her way up to the ruin for the second time. She wasn't worried—that worried—about the orcs. She had never faced one in battle, but she knew enough about them not to underestimate them. She had enough confidence in her own abilities to be able to deal with the two sentries, and enough faith in her new friends to believe they could handle the rest of the fugitive band hiding in the cave.

What concerned her was the energy she felt building in her blood.

The Demon was stirring.

It woke any time she used her magic frequently. It was unpredictable, and dangerous to both her and those around her, her Demon. She had lived with it ever since her magical talents had begun to surface when she was a child. It was a part of her, not something she could ever escape. The only solution she'd found was to avoid using magic entirely. That was an imperfect solution that had worked for a time. But being what she was, alone in a dangerous world, the denial of such an integral part of herself was not something she could long embrace.

And now she was here, once again in danger. Not alone, but she could not shake the reality that the closer she got to her new companions, the more likely they were to suffer from the secret she could not share with them.

She realized that her distraction was placing her at risk, and with an effort of will focused again on her surroundings. She was near the summit of the rise, on the outer edge of the ruin. She could see the cliffs ahead, and in the foreground the imperfect outline of the structure where the orc sentries were stationed. _Had been_ stationed, she reminded herself. It would be foolish to assume that nothing had changed since her last visit. For all she knew there could be more orcs there now, a new shift arriving to spell the guards. Or maybe she hadn't been as stealthy as she'd thought, and even now there were hidden eyes marking her every step.

That thought had her pausing again, and she had to berate herself mentally to resume her slow approach. She knew that her new spell of transformation—superior in most ways to the mere illusion she'd used before, though unable to affect her clothing—was almost spent, and while she could refresh it with a thought, it would deplete magic that she would almost certainly need in the coming battle. The orc guards hadn't been paying attention earlier, but if one of them happened to get up and look around the spell might make the difference between being detected and remaining hidden.

She shifted her approach slightly to give her a view of the eastern side of the hill. She couldn't see her companions, but she could guess at where they were. A shallow gully ran along the base of the rise, likely created by the rains that doused the region each spring. At the moment it was dry and choked with brown stalks that were easily tall enough to conceal a band of assorted adventurers.

She briefly debated trying to signal them, but decided against it. They would know soon enough when she acted.

Keeping low, she crept around to the rear of the ruined structure. The remaining walls ranged from low enough to step over to about five feet high, with enough gaps that they didn't provide any real security against anything trying to get inside. But what remained was solid enough to offer decent cover. The foundation, cracked with weeds, was a square roughly thirty feet on a side, but there wasn't enough left to indicate what the place had been or what purpose it had served when intact. Maybe it had been a military outpost back in the day of the defunct Mai'i, or maybe it went back even further, to the days of the old empires that predated the current human civilization that dominated the continent.

She realized she was stalling again in her musings about history, and after taking a steadying breath she carefully eased forward to the nearest of the gaps in the outer wall.

The orcs were exactly as she had left them, leaning redolently against one of the inner walls of the ruined structure. From their location they could have held a commanding vantage of both the southern and eastern approaches to the ruins, and a protected firing position from which to use the two crossbows propped up against the wall a few steps away. The orcs were awake and talking quietly; as she looked in one let out a deep guffaw in response to something his companion had said. They wore suits of armor crafted out of animal hides and scraps of metal that looked ragged and dirty even by what she assumed to be orc standards. From what the others had said, these orcs were the remnants of a tribe that had tried to raid the elven settlements in the forest beyond these hills to the north. One of the pair had a fresh bandage wound around its right arm, likely a wound suffered in the recent clash with the cyclops. Hopefully the giant had killed a bunch of them; it would make their job easier.

For what she had in mind she would have to get closer. Careful of where she placed her feet, she crept into the interior of the ruined building. There were loose bits of stone everywhere, and plenty of cracks deep enough to snag a boot, but she managed to cross to the far side of what might have been a small bedroom or sitting room. All that was left now was a small stone basin that protruded from the waist-high interior wall, carved with half of a face that was so worn down that it could have been almost anything.

She slowly lifted her head over the crumbling top of the wall. The orcs still hadn't moved. One had taken something out of his belt pouch and was gnawing at it. The other perked up, interested. He growled something, obviously asking if his friend had brought enough to share.

Xeeta didn't wait for the sentry to respond. Rearing up, she extended her arms over the wall, touching her thumbs together as she drew upon her magic. The movement drew the attention of the orcs, but they barely had time to register that they were not alone before a rush of flames seared into them.

As usual the unleashing of her magic for a moment obliterated all else but the glorious surge of power through her blood. But she was used to that, used to immediately pulling back from that wave of sensation to evaluate the results of her casting.

What she saw in this case seemed pretty gratifying; both orcs were down, their filthy garments coated in soot, their mottled hides blackened and crackling. But while the first stayed down, the second stumbled to his feet, letting out a sharp squeal of pain but clearly not so injured that he couldn't fix his eyes on her. Through the vagaries of luck he happened to be the one carrying the horn, and while the device had been singed it looked like it might be functional enough to sound a warning.

Xeeta reached again for her magic, intending to finish off the wounded guard with a quick bolt of fire. But before she could begin the spell, she felt a rolling surge of power building of its own accord within her. It was the Demon, coming in response to her earlier spell, seeking freedom. She tried to hold it back, but the wild magic would not be contained.

She screamed as fire exploded out from her in every direction. The fireball enveloped her, searing her as she had seared the orcs, blinding and deafening her with the ferocity of the blast.

* * * * *

Chapter 55

Bredan, Quellan, Kosk, and Glori crouched behind the dense growth that cluttered the gully at the base of the hill, staring through the tall stalks at the ruin above. True to Xeeta's word, they'd managed to creep to within a hundred paces or so of their destination, but that remaining distance, a minute's casual walk under normal circumstances, seemed much greater from their current perspective.

A bright flash appeared momentarily from the partially-intact structure in the center of the ruins, followed by a pulse of black smoke that thinned into nothingness as it rose into the air.

"That's the signal!" Bredan said. He started to rise, only to feel Kosk's heavy hand on his arm. "Hold a second," the dwarf said.

"She might need our help..." the smith began.

"Hold," Kosk repeated. "If the rest of them didn't see that, then we might..."

He didn't get a chance to finish, as a massive explosion erupted atop the hill, centered on the ruined building where the sentries had been stationed. This time there was no doubting whatsoever that the orcs would hear, as the loud rumble that echoed off the cliffs continued well after the ringing in their ears from the initial blast had faded.

"Oh, man, that can't be good," Glori said.

"Xeeta..." Bredan said. He started forward again, and this time made it a few steps up the slope before a shouted warning from Glori shifted his attention. Glancing back, he saw her pointing to the cliff, and followed her finger to see what she had seen.

Even at a distance there was no mistaking them; the protruding snouts and piggish features were too distinctive. There were six of them, the orcs spreading out as they warily approached the ruin where a cloud of smoke continued to rise from the impact point of the explosion.

"Um... should we get their attention?" Glori asked.

"We have to keep them from converging on Xeeta," Quellan said. He didn't have a missile weapon, so he had to hold his mace and wait.

Kosk came forward and thrust Bredan's crossbow into his hands. "Shoot the bastards!" he yelled.

Glori's first shot was already on its way, and as the orcs turned toward them the first staggered as her arrow embedded in his side. But just as Quellan had predicted, the orcs didn't hesitate, lifting their spears as one and with a loud roar charging down the hill toward them, the injured one only a pace behind the others.

"Damn, they're fast," Bredan said as he lifted his crossbow, took aim, and fired. At first the shot looked true, but at the last moment the orc stepped aside and the bolt flashed past him. Glori's second arrow embedded in another orc's coat, but it was impossible to tell if it penetrated; in any case the orc kept on coming. She shifted to the side, moving away from the others, and for a moment Bredan hesitated, before Kosk gave him a shove and gestured to his empty bow. "Keep shooting!" the dwarf ordered.

But it was becoming clear that the orcs would be on them in moments. Kosk and Quellan stepped forward to confront the rush, their weapons at the ready. The dwarf drew one of his knives and hurled it in a flat arc that caught one of the orcs in the meat of his thigh. The warrior missed a step but recovered quickly and pointed his spear at the monk in promise, growing a challenge in his guttural tongue.

"More of them!" Glori warned. Her companions tore their eyes from the rapidly-closing orcs to see that another group of the creatures had emerged from the cave mouth above. Those three were noticeably larger than the others. Two carried massive bill-hooks, while the third wielded a nasty-looking flanged mace. They quickly moved to follow their companions into the fight, rushing toward the intruders in a steady lope.

But before the reinforcements could join their brethren, they were interrupted by an attack from the interior of the watchstation. A barrage of fiery bursts lanced out at them from the cover of the ruin. The flames hit the orcs armed with the pole-arms, but the one with the mace ducked in time, the flames splashing harmlessly against the cliff behind him. All three orcs immediately converged on the figure that emerged from the ruin, the slight breeze rustling her charred garments and lifting bits of soot from her skin. Her spell of camouflage was gone, leaving her skin its normal tinge, as bright as a beacon.

Xeeta's display of fireworks distracted Bredan, who cursed as his second shot missed wildly. His target raised his spear and rushed forward across the final interval separating them, yelling a battle-cry in Orcish. Bredan couldn't understand the words, but definitely got the meaning. He dropped his bow and unlimbered his sword, tossing the baldric aside as he cleared the blade from its scabbard. The orc lunged, taking advantage of the superior reach provided by his weapon. Bredan responded just as his uncle had drilled into him through hour after hour of practice, side-stepping and deflecting the thrust with his sword before pivoting into a sweeping strike. But the orc too proved experienced, as he anticipated the move and flung himself out of the reach of the long blade.

Another loud blast echoed across the battlefield, this one much closer; Bredan started before realizing that it was Glori's magic, a pulse of raw sonic energy like the one she'd used in the kobold lair. He didn't even get a chance to glance aside to check the result of the spell before the orc rushed at him again. He could hear Kosk and Quellan fully engaged just a few steps away, fighting multiple foes. He'd only drawn one opponent, but at the moment that opponent seemed quite capable of demanding his full attention.

This time he didn't wait for the orc to come to him, but lunged forward into an attack of his own. The orc, caught off-guard, nevertheless managed to poke at Bredan's side with his spear. The head caught on the smith's armor but still managed to pierce his side. Bredan clenched his jaw against the pain and slammed his sword down into the orc's shoulder. The impact crumpled the thin plate of iron protecting his foe's body and tore through the layered hides underneath. Staggering back, the orc dropped briefly to one knee before lunging again at his enemy. Bredan reacted fluidly, parrying the thrusting spear before driving the point of his sword through the orc's chest.

Even as the orc fell, this time for good, Bredan's companions finished off the rest of the initial cohort. The last one, staggered by a glancing hit from Quellan's mace, succumbed to a blow from Kosk's staff that hit so hard that Bredan could hear the bones crunching from five paces away. Both the cleric and monk bore wounds, but they looked to be minor, and Bredan saw with relief that Glori appeared to be unharmed.

But that relief was short-lived, as he turned his attention back up the hill and saw that Xeeta was in serious trouble.

Xeeta had revealed herself on purpose, to draw the second group of orcs to her. The fact that the orcs had withstood her initial blast of flames confirmed that these were the band's leaders, and as tough as they looked. They spread out to take her from several directions at once, wary of her magic.

They were right to be wary, as she touched her thumbs together and unleashed another spray of flame. The orcs dodged back, but one couldn't escape the wave of fire and fell, screaming as the flames crisped his flesh. The other two, however, surged ahead, no doubt expecting to take advantage of the lull before she could cast another spell.

They were going to be disappointed, Xeeta thought. The Demon was in her, and its potency was screaming through her blood. Drawing deeper upon her reserve of sorcerous power, she unleashed yet another gout of fire. Caught by surprise, both creatures were engulfed. The first was overwhelmed and joined his comrade on the ground. The orc with the mace let out a cry of pain as the fire seared his flesh, but he didn't retreat or try to seek cover. The creature, a huge, hideous orc with one broken tusk, didn't hesitate. He leapt forward, his mace sweeping around with a force that would not be denied. Xeeta tried to bring her rod up to defend, but it was not enough to stop the mace as it slammed heavily into her chest. The impact lifted her off her feet, and for a moment all she could see was the vast arc of the sky before she hit the ground. Pain filled her vision with a red haze that blinded her for a moment.

When it cleared, she saw the orc standing directly above her, his mace already raised to finish her off.

* * * * *

Chapter 56

Xeeta felt a cold fear clutch in her belly at the sight of the orc warrior standing over her, his mace raised to crush her skull. But before the creature could strike the feeling was replaced by a sudden, furious rage. It burned away the terror with its intensity, and with it came her magic, the full power of the Demon awakened by her brush with death.

"Burn," she said.

And the orc burned.

Flames erupted around the warrior, enfolding him in a deadly wreath of magic. The orc tried to escape, to turn away from his fate, but Xeeta's fire clung to him, searing him until with one final staggering step he collapsed. The mace that had been about to crush the life from her body fell harmlessly to the ground.

Xeeta sucked in a breath and regretted it as pain exploded throughout her torso, scouring away the anger and everything else. She decided not to try to get up, which probably proved wise as a soft cough a moment later awakened new spasms of agony.

"Xeeta! Xeeta, are you okay?"

She turned her head—slowly, slightly—so she could see Bredan and the others rushing toward her. She saw the look in the boy's eyes as he took in the scene, took in the destruction and death she'd unleashed. But she also saw concern as he knelt next to her. He was wounded himself, a red stain spreading under his mail.

"Don't try to move her, boy," Kosk said. "Wait for the healers."

Quellan appeared a moment later, kneeling carefully beside her. "Where were you hurt?" he asked.

"Ribs," she managed, though even that took an incredible effort. It felt like several sharp knives were piercing her body, but a moment later the cleric's magic entered her body and the pain evaporated. She let out a relieved sigh, but remained where she was until the healing spell took its full effect.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," Xeeta said. "Bredan, help me up?"

The boy offered a hand at once, and while she still felt a little unsteady, she was able to stand unassisted. "Thanks."

"What happened?" Bredan asked.

"I had to stop them," Xeeta said.

"That explosion of yours alerted them sure enough," Kosk said. "I wouldn't be surprised if they heard that back at the village."

"It... they were... my magic, sometimes it sort of... exceeds my expectations."

The dwarf raised an eyebrow at that, but Bredan just nodded at the fallen orc and said, "Yeah, it looks like that guy found that out."

Glori had moved over to the dead leader, and picked up his mace. "This looks unusual," she said. The weapon was made of a dark metal that shone dully in the bright sunlight. "Better than the rest of their gear, anyway."

Quellan turned from delivering a second healing spell to Bredan to examine the weapon. "May I?" Accepting the mace from Glori, he gave it a few experimental swings. "It could be magical," he said.

"Keep it," Kosk said. "Nobody else here uses that kind of weapon. We should check out that cave, make sure there aren't any more of them skulking about."

After quickly checking the bodies, they made their way into the cave. The interior was dark, so Quellan paused to enchant his shield with light so that Bredan could see.

Just past the narrow entry the cave widened into a cavern of considerable size. It was immediately obvious that the orcs had been camping there for some time. Their bedrolls were noisome heaps of rotting fabric and furs that even Glori with her eye for treasure wanted nothing to do with. But there was another exit, a passage of clearly-worked stone to their right that extended deeper into the cliff.

Kosk took the lead, though the passage only continued on for about fifteen feet before it opened onto another room. This one was only a fraction of the size of the outer cavern, and was almost empty save for three more bedrolls spread out around a cleared space in the center of the floor. It looked as though the passage had continued on at some point, though now it extended for only a few more feet past the room before ending in a complete collapse. There was another exit in the back of the room, a narrow, low passageway that only Kosk would be able to negotiate without ducking.

"Ugh, what's that stench," Bredan said.

"Orc," Kosk said.

"No, it's something different," Bredan insisted, covering his face with his arm as if that could keep the odor at bay.

"Look, money," Glori said. She pointed to a few gleaming bits of metal lying on the floor and went to investigate. In addition to a few silver coins, she found a pair of dice made of ivory that she held up for the others to see. "Looks like we interrupted their game."

"Back luck for them," Kosk said. He'd moved over to the mouth of the cramped passage and sniffed at the air there. "I think the boy's right. Something in here."

Quellan came over with the light, which revealed that the passage extended for about ten feet before opening into a tiny vault. They could see the likely source of the smell: a pair of booted feet that turned out to be attached to a very dead man.

The vault was far too small to fit all of them at once, but Glori accompanied Kosk to check out the body. "Looks like the orcs killed him," Glori reported. "I think he might have been a cleric; he's wearing the sigil of Laesil."

"Goddess of luck," Quellan said. "It seems that his patroness's favor couldn't help him here." He made a gesture of benediction and turned away, a dark look on his face.

"Whatever he had, the orcs took it," Kosk said. He came back to the larger room but Glori lingered behind a moment.

"Should we bury him?" Bredan asked through his arm, still trying to protect himself against the stench.

"That would be a good gesture," Quellan said.

"Hey, look what I found!" Glori said as she returned with a look of triumph on her face. She was holding a tightly-wrapped scroll.

"Where did you find that?" Kosk said. "I searched the body."

"It was in his boot," Glori said.

She unrolled the scroll and held it out so they could all see it. It was immediately recognizable as a map of the ruins. It didn't show the interior of the cave, but in addition to the part of the exterior complex they'd explored it showed an additional structure atop the cliffs. There was an annotation there that read, "Suspicious hole – should investigate."

The companions shared a look. "What do you think?" Bredan asked.

After a moment, Glori said, "I think maybe we should take our unfortunate friend's advice... and investigate."

* * * * *

Chapter 57

It took them the better part of an hour to reach the top of the bluff. The sheer cliffs did not extend all the way around, but the slope was steep even at the more accessible portions and studded with loose rocks that would give way as soon as weight was placed on them. By the time they finally reached the crest all were scraped and dirty from multiple slides, though none of them had suffered any serious injuries.

"I was thinking about that cleric," Glori said as she paused to brush prickleburrs out of her hair. "I wonder why he came here alone."

"We don't know that he was alone," Quellan said. "Perhaps his companions were driven off by the orcs, or met their fate elsewhere."

"Doesn't matter either way," Kosk said.

"Do you think he was connected in some way to... to that other thing?" Bredan asked.

Xeeta waved a hand. "This is where you change the subject," she said. The tiefling looked as bedraggled as the rest of them, though her ruddy complexion showed less dirt than the paler humans.

Quellan came to a stop. He looked at each of the others before turning toward the sorceress. "No, it's not," he said. "Bredan was referring to a job we did together before we set out for Adelar. It was for a wizard named Starfinder, and it wasn't that dissimilar from this mission. She was also looking for a source of ancient magical power, hidden by a cult called the Eth'barat that existed during the waning days of the Mai'i. Apparently, they were all about stockpiling ancient lore in anticipation of the Empire's fall."

"Not that it helped them, apparently," Bredan said.

"And you think that these Eth'barat were involved in this site as well?" Xeeta asked.

"There are some parallels," Glori said. "An old ruin way off the beaten track, rumors of mysterious magic."

"An obsessed scholar with a lot of ready cash looking for a few convenient adventurers to stick their heads on the block," Kosk added.

"Somehow I don't see Starfinder and Nordrum as being quite in the same category," Glori said.

"For all we know they're best friends," Bredan said. "Or maybe he works for her."

"It doesn't matter," Kosk said. "We're here, and it's getting late. We should stop wasting time before we end up running into something we can't handle."

They made their way back to the side of the bluff that faced out over the ruin. They found another wrecked structure there, right where the dead priest's map had indicated it would be. There wasn't much left to it at all, just a cracked foundation overgrown with weeds, with stumps at each corner where it looked like tall pillars might have once stood. There were blocks of weathered stone scattered all over the site, remnants of the building that had once stood here.

"I wonder if there was an earthquake or something that wrecked this place," Bredan said as they spread out to investigate the site. They couldn't see the opening that the cleric's map mentioned at first glance, but the tall weeds were thick enough to conceal such an entry from a casual examination.

"You would be surprised what the simple passage of time can do," Quellan said.

"Nature is swift to reclaim her own," Xeeta said.

Bredan turned to say something to her, but before he got a chance Kosk said, "Over here."

They followed the dwarf around to the northwest corner of the structure. The weeds were particularly dense there, but they weren't enough to mask the dark hole that extended under the overhanging mass of the building's foundation stones.

Glori stepped forward and bent low over the opening. She thrust her head so far into the gap that Bredan started to reach for her before he caught himself. But no monstrous entity erupted from the darkness to seize her, and he reminded himself that she could see in the dark a lot better than he could. She lingered there a few moments and then drew back.

"Anything?" Quellan asked.

"It goes in pretty far," she said. "I heard something, running water I think. There may be a cave or underground complex underneath all this."

Xeeta, standing a few paces away from the others, thought she heard something and turned toward the bulk of the ruined structure. But there was nothing there, just the tall stalks of the weeds shifting slightly in the faint breeze.

"It looks pretty tight," Bredan said. "Tough fighting in there."

"I think it widens after the first bit," Glori said.

"I'll go check it out," Kosk said. "I've spent a lot of time in tight spaces."

"I can send in my glowing motes, see if there's anything," Glori said.

"No need," Kosk said. He started to hand his staff to her, but then his eyes widened as he saw a wedge-shaped head covered in golden scales emerge from the weeds an arm's length from Xeeta. The sorceress seemed completely unaware as the head split open to reveal gaping jaws dominated by two long fangs that glistened as they extended toward her exposed leg.

Kosk threw his staff at the same instant that the snake lunged at Xeeta.

The improvised missile didn't hit the creature, but the sorceress let out a startled sound and flinched back as the staff shot past her. The snake's initial lunge came up short, but it quickly recoiled and tried again. Xeeta summoned a handful of fire and flung it at the creature as she fled. She didn't hit it either, but the rush of flames caused it to hesitate for just a moment.

By then its attention was taken up by the lumbering bulk of Quellan as the half-orc charged forward. The snake hissed at him and make a probing move toward his legs, but the cleric quickly shoved his shield down into the uneven ground to form a rampart between them. The snake looked big enough to launch itself over that barrier, but the creature already appeared to be having second thoughts about the encounter. It turned from the priest and began to slip back into the dense knot of weeds from which had appeared, but before it could reach the shelter of its nest it was intercepted by a brilliant arc of steel.

Bredan's sword struck it decisively a hand's span beneath the dagger-shaped head. The sword clove through its thick hide like it was parchment, spraying droplets of blood over the ground as its head went flying into the tangled growth. Its body continued to coil and twist as if searching for its missing end, but within a few moments it uncoiled a final time and fell still.

Glori stepped around it and recovered Kosk's staff. "You okay?" she asked Xeeta as the tiefling returned to rejoin them.

"Yeah. Thanks," she said to Kosk.

Quellan knelt to examine the remains of the snake. "Ah. Giant golden viper. Highly toxic bite."

Xeeta shuddered. "Do you think there are any more of them?"

"Large predators like this tend to be solitary, but there's no way to be certain," Quellan said.

"Maybe a whole nest of 'em down there," Kosk said. They all stared into the dark opening for a long moment, then the dwarf shrugged and said, "Let's go."

Kosk had no difficulty making his way into the hole; as Glori had predicted it widened once past the tight overhang of the foundation stones. The others watched—all save Xeeta, who kept a close eye out for more snakes—as he crawled to the back of the cave before dropping out of sight.

"Kosk?" Quellan asked.

"It's okay, there's a drop off here, but it's only about five feet. There's a much bigger cave down... ugh."

"What's wrong?" Glori asked.

"Bats. Better step back a moment."

That was all the warning they got before a wild flutter of wings and high-pitched squeaks announced the arrival of several dozen bats that fluttered up through the cave and into the air. For a moment they swirled around the companions, but then they were gone. Glori leaned into the cave mouth, only to jerk back as one last bat flashed past her, squeaking as if protesting the invasion of its home.

"Was that really necessary?" she yelled down to Kosk.

"Better to clear them out then run into them while we're in a hurry," Kosk's voice drifted up to them. "The cave goes on a ways, but I've found the source of the sound you heard. Better get down here."

Glori shot a quick look at the others, then knelt and started wriggling into the cave opening.

* * * * *

Chapter 58

Glori had flashbacks to the tight confines of the kobold tunnels as she shimmied into the narrow opening, but she had no difficulty slipping through even with her bow and lyre. The same could not be said for Bredan and Quellan. Even after removing their packs, and sliding their weapons in ahead of them, the two had to squirm and scrape their way past the overhang. Quellan got stuck, and there was a moment where it looked like he would not be able to join them, but with some prodding from behind by Xeeta he finally popped clear to where Bredan could drag him down to the wider space below.

Kosk helped Glori over the drop to the adjacent cavern where the bats had made their lair. She was greeted by the stink of their droppings, and her boot squished in something as the dwarf steadied her before turning to help Bredan.

"Eww," she said.

Quellan had spelled a piece of wire with light to help Bredan, but even without it Glori had no difficulty making out the features of the lower cave. There wasn't much to it, just an ovoid bubble in the rock with a low ceiling crusted with bits of bat hair and smears of guano. The rush of falling water was close, filling the confined space with sound, and she could see that its source had to be a narrow crevice on the far side of the cavern about twenty feet away. She started to sidle that way before Kosk cautioned her.

"Better wait for the others," the dwarf said. Glori had to blink as Bredan appeared, the brightly glowing wire wrapped around the loose baldric that held his sword. She couldn't see how he would possibly be able to use the huge weapon in these close quarters, but he'd left the awkward bulk of his crossbow behind and she could understand how he would want to bring more than a knife into these underground tunnels.

Bredan had crawled into the cave head-first, and he fumbled awkwardly over the transition to the lower tier. Kosk cursed as he helped the human warrior get straightened out, a sight that Glori might have found entertaining if not for the potential death lurking in every shadow.

Finally, Bredan got his feet under him and stumbled forward, almost braining himself on one of the uneven ridges of stone that protruded from the ceiling. Glori let out an exasperated sigh and took him by the hand, pulling him over to another part of the cavern that was out of the way.

"It's times like these I envy you your body," Bredan said. When Glori raised an eyebrow he quickly stammered, "I mean, that you're so small. Not that you're smaller than you should be. You're a perfect size."

"You should have quit when you were ahead," Glori said. "There better be something down here, or Kosk will never let me live it down."

"If there's something bad down here, we won't be getting out in a hurry," Bredan noted.

"That's the spirit," Glori replied, punching him lightly in the shoulder.

With a grunt and a clatter of dirt Quellan appeared atop the ledge. Bredan went to help him, but the half-orc was able to twist around and drop down with considerably less drama than the smith. In his wake Xeeta popped through and slid to the floor with something almost approaching grace, reuniting their company.

"I am not looking forward to exiting this place," Quellan said.

"Well, maybe we'll run into another demon and we'll all get killed," Kosk said.

"Cheerful thought," Xeeta said. "There must be a reason the structure above was built on top of this cave," she continued. "It seems highly unlikely that the builders would not have been aware of it."

"The water, most likely," Quellan said, pointing to the far exit and the constant sound of splashing that filled the cavern. "There must be a spring or other underground source with enough pressure to lift it up to this level. Shall we investigate?"

"All right, but let me go first," Kosk said. "That way I can help if you want to repeat your impression of a cork in a bottle of wine."

For a moment it looked like the crevice would put the dwarf's words to the test, but again after an initial narrow stretch the opening widened into a navigable passage. Bredan and Quellan had to turn sideways to fit, but they didn't encounter anything as difficult as the cave mouth. The passage extended for about twenty feet, the sound of falling water building until it culminated in a ledge that overlooked another large cavern.

This one was several times the size of the cave with the bats. The source of the sound was a low slit in the wall that poured a constant sheet of water over the lip of the ledge. It dropped maybe ten feet into a pool in the cavern below. The light Bredan carried showed that the pool filled most of that space, though there was a narrow shelf of land that extended for maybe a third of the way around its circumference. They could see that there was another exit down there, a rectangular opening a step above the level of the water, too regular to be a natural feature of the cave.

"Well, well," Glori said. "Looks like somebody was down here after all."

"I can't tell how deep the water is," Bredan said. "It'll hurt if it's just a few inches deep."

"Or if you land on one of those rocks," Kosk said. The dwarf pointed out a series of low mounds that protruded from the surface of the pool, crusted white with mineral deposits.

"I've got rope, and spikes," Bredan said.

"Look over there," Kosk said, pointing to the far end of the ledge on the other side of the rushing stream. "That wall looks rough enough to climb down, and it's close enough to that dry spit that we can avoid getting our feet wet."

"Still a rough trip down if someone slips," Quellan said.

"Fine," the dwarf said. "You stay here and I'll see if it's safe." Without waiting for a response, he trudged through the stream. The water frothed around his feet, but he didn't lose his footing and a moment later he was over on the edge of the drop. "Yeah, this shouldn't be a problem," he said.

"At least let me get the rope..." Quellan began, but the half-orc didn't get a chance to finish. As he started to turn around one foot slid into the water, and as the flow caught hold of his boot it slipped out from under him. Bredan reached for him, but the half-orc's bulk was already dragging him down, and the smith had to let go before both were pulled over. Quellan fell face-first into the pool, striking the surface with another violent splash that actually managed to spray his companions above. The mystery of the pool's depth was solved as the cleric stumbled up and managed to get his feet back under him, the water rising up to the middle of his chest.

"Is it cold?" Kosk asked. "It looks cold."

Quellan shot him a look, then turned to examine his surroundings. He'd landed roughly in the middle of the pool, about ten feet from the edge and the other exit. He started wading in that direction, but after a moment he stopped, looking around him warily.

"What's wrong?" Glori asked.

"I thought I heard something," Quellan said. "Bredan, I'm going to create a new light, it'll make the one you're holding go out."

"Okay," the smith said.

Quellan touched his holy symbol to his shield, which began to glow softly. Its light reflected brightly on the rippling surface of the pool, but it didn't reveal any new threats. Several of the nearby mineral formations glistened in the magical illumination, as though they were studded with precious jewels.

Since Quellan was looking that way, he noticed when one of those formations shifted slightly. With a soft crack, a piece of one fell free and dropped into the water.

"Um, did you see that?" Glori asked.

The cleric was already reaching for his mace, but even as he touched the handle of his weapon another of the formations shifted and moved, followed a moment later by a third. Then, as if responding to some unseen common trigger, all three formations erupted, decades of encrusted minerals falling away to reveal what was underneath.

The source of the disturbance was three humanoid skeletons that rose up out of the water. Their bones, still glistening with the white encrustations of accumulation from the pool, clacked together as all three of the undead constructions surged forward with bony claws extended toward the solitary cleric.

* * * * *

Chapter 59

The skeletons were too close for Quellan to evade their rush, even if he hadn't been up to his chest in water. His companions above reached for their weapons, though they were too far away to immediately intervene.

The half-orc let his mace go and grasped hold of his holy symbol. As he presented it toward the undead creatures it began to glow with a soft white light. "By the Light... I compel thee!" Quellan cried, and for a moment the light intensified until it was twice as strong as a torch.

The skeletons quailed before that radiance. Two of them immediately recoiled and fled, heading for the edges of the pool. The last one hesitated, and for a moment an echoing pulse of reddish light shone within the empty interior of its skull. Whatever dark necromancy had animated it allowed it to resist the cleric's divine magic, and it lunged forward again, a claw sweeping around toward his face.

But before it could strike a dark form hurtled down on it from above. Kosk held his staff pointed down like a spear, and the weighted end drove down into its skull like a sledgehammer. The dwarf himself followed a moment later, smashing through the skeleton's body and launching a spray of shattered bones across the surface of the pool. For a moment Kosk went under, but then he burst up again, sputtering. "Bloody blasted cultists!" he cursed.

Quellan grabbed hold of his friend and guided them toward the narrow belt of ground on the edge of the pool. The skeletons had gravitated that way, and as they approached they again tried to flee past them, heading toward the opening in the back wall. The two adventurers intercepted them, Kosk shattering one's leg with a blow from his staff while Quellan knocked the second back with his mace. The damaged skeleton turned back toward the pool, but before it could reenter the water it was blasted with a bolt of fire from Xeeta's rod. The flames didn't have much effect against the undead thing's soaked bones, but the impact of it knocked its spine just a bit off-kilter. The skeleton took a few creaking steps forward and then toppled forward, coming apart even as it hit the water.

Glori had her bow out, but there weren't any more targets. "You okay?" she called down. Bredan likewise had drawn his sword, but on seeing that the dwarf and half-orc had things under control he'd passed on duplicating Kosk's risky leap.

"Just peachy," Kosk said.

"Hold on, we'll come on down," Glori said, tucking her arrow back into her quiver before slinging her bow across her back.

"Go ahead and secure the rope first," Quellan said. "It'll help when we come back this way."

Bredan took out his tools and hammered in two spikes, one on their side of the rushing waterfall and the second above the uneven wall that Kosk had indicated as a possible route down. They all ended up getting wet, but without further threats appearing it was just a question of taking the time and care needed to negotiate the hazard safely.

Once they party had reunited on the shore of the pool, they investigated the opening in the wall. Kosk confirmed that it led to a narrow passage that appeared empty, but he'd held off exploring further until they were all together. Alert to any further traps or guardians, they made their way deeper into the complex. Quellan respelled Bredan's scabbard, shifting the light back to him to carry. The young warrior held the weapon aloft so the light clearly illuminated the stone of the corridor.

It was obvious that this part of the complex had been deliberately worked. At first the passage was rough-hewn from the stone of the bluff, but as they made their way forward it transitioned to smooth stone blocks that fitted together with barely a gap between them despite the absence of mortar. The passage ended about twenty feet from the cavern with the pool, with an archway that led into a vaulted chamber.

After tapping the stones of the arch a few times with his staff, Kosk led the way into the room. The place looked ancient, with a generous layer of dust covering the floor. Thick stone buttresses built into the walls arced up to support the ceiling twelve feet above. The ground was packed dirt rather than stone, and gave slightly as they stepped on it. The air was unsurprisingly damp, and lichens clung to the narrow gaps in the stone blocks of the chamber.

"It looks like maybe somebody already looted this place," Glori said. She pointed to a series of niches in the walls, each a few feet deep with a shelf that could have held a small statue or other similar object. As Bredan came into the room his light revealed that all of them were empty.

"Tread carefully," Quellan said. "There may still be active traps." He turned to the left, where another archway was completely filled with a collapse that had sprayed rubble into the vault. He bent and picked up a rock the size of his head. "This place could be unstable."

"Another way out over here," Kosk said. They all came over to join the dwarf, who indicated an exit partially concealed behind one of the buttresses. It led to a passage much like the first, narrow but wide enough for all of them, even Quellan, to negotiate without difficulty.

"That was impressive, what you did with those skeletons," Glori said to Quellan as Kosk did his usual check before starting into the new corridor. "I've heard about the power of priests to turn undead, of course, but I've never actually seen it done in person."

"It is a potent gift from the gods," Quellan said. "But the power... it is limited."

"Maybe you won't have to use it again, if you pay attention to what you're doing," Kosk grumbled from the passage. "There's another room up here."

After sharing a look Quellan and Glori followed him into the passage, followed by Bredan with Xeeta again bringing up the rear. The tiefling gave the arch a wary look, as if expecting a deadly trap to be triggered at any moment.

With his shield held tightly to his body to keep its iron rim from scraping on the walls, Quellan shuffled forward to where Kosk was kneeling at the end of the passage. Once more there was another arch, and a chamber that from their vantage looked similar to the one that they'd just left. The dwarf glanced up as the half-orc came forward, but didn't move forward.

"What's the matter?" Quellan asked.

Kosk shook his head. "I don't know. Something's not right."

"Maybe we can have Glori scout it out using her floating lights," Quellan suggested, but Kosk was already leaning forward through the arch, carefully looking left and right to see if there was something waiting in ambush. The room was clear, but as he shifted his weight the stone block he'd stepped on settled with a soft and ominous click.

Kosk barely had time to register the sound before a massive stone block plummeted down from the ceiling, directly toward his exposed and unprotected head.

* * * * *

Chapter 60

Kosk had been expecting trouble, but he hadn't expected it to come from above. He tensed, ready to spring, but the stone block fell faster than even he could react.

But the dwarf was jerked roughly back a scant instant before impact. The stone slammed hard into the floor and balanced there for a moment before it tottered over, dropping into the room with another loud crash. It was almost large enough to fill the archway, and had to weigh at least a thousand pounds.

Kosk remained quiet in Quellan's grasp for a moment, both of them staring at the results of the trap.

"That would have squashed me like a bug," the dwarf finally said.

"Aye," Quellan said.

"What's happening?" Bredan asked. "What was that noise?"

Quellan let go of Kosk's robe and the dwarf quickly straightened, adjusting the garment. "We're all okay," the cleric said over his shoulder. "There was another trap."

"Yeah, just another bloody trap," Kosk said. He stepped forward onto the block, using it as a platform to edge cautiously into the chamber.

The room was vaulted like the last, and likewise had niches in the walls. But these were long and narrow, forming depressions almost large enough to hold a person. Those horizontal slits were stacked several high, and most of them were bricked up, the mortar that had once sealed them crumbling from age and the dampness that suffused the complex. The ones that were open were dark slits that were deep enough to be ominous in what they might have concealed.

Quellan and Glori stepped to the sides as they passed through the arch, letting Bredan's light spill into the chamber. It revealed that the place was roughly twenty feet long, culminating in a slightly raised platform dominated by a stone altar or table. The platform extended into a deep alcove that formed a rough hemisphere, a geometric oddity against the more regular lines of the rest of the complex.

Kosk stepped forward off the fallen slab. His sandals made a soft squelching sound as they sank slightly into floor; like the outer vault the floor was packed dirt.

"This place... it feels... dark," Glori said with a shudder.

Bredan's sword let out a soft hiss as he drew it from its scabbard. "How much you want to bet there's another guardian here?" he asked.

No one offered to take his wager. The companions spread out slightly as they slowly moved forward toward the altar.

"I think there's something in that round area," Glori said. "Bredan, hold up the light."

He did, and it revealed that the curving walls behind the altar had small niches cut into them as well. The light glinted on something in one of them, a small metallic object that had a distinctive greenish tinge.

"There's no need to go over there and maybe trigger another trap," Xeeta said. The sorceress had remained in the entry, standing atop the fallen slab in a half-crouch. "I can use my magic to bring whatever it is to us."

The others had stopped when she'd started speaking, and when she was done Kosk nodded eagerly. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

The companions drew back to give her a clear line of sight to the alcove. Bredan glanced back at the wall behind him, where one of the open vaults was nearby at waist level. There was something visible near the end of it, just within the shadow of the opening.

He turned and lifted his scabbard to get a better look, but then a soft gasp from Glori drew his attention around.

The object she'd spotted was drifting slowly through the air toward them. He still couldn't see what it was, exactly; it was roughly oblong and about a foot long, but it was crusted with a heavy green patina that masked its purpose. Verdigris; that meant that it was made of bronze. It was being held aloft by a translucent magical hand that cupped it almost like a real hand would have. Curious, he found himself moving closer without even thinking about it.

"Did you hear something?" Kosk asked.

Bredan turned to look at the dwarf. He and Quellan had moved to the far side of the chamber, and both were looking around. The sorceress's spectral hand had stopped moving, but when nothing happened, she gestured and it continued pulling the artifact toward her. As it approached, Glori stepped forward to take it.

But even as she reached out toward the hovering object she came to a sudden stop. She looked down, a look of confusion on her face. Bredan also looked, and saw the reason for her trouble: a sickly gray-green hand topped with yellowed claws had emerged from the floor and seized hold of her ankle.

"Monster!" Bredan yelled. He rushed forward, but was still several steps clear when the ground around Glori exploded and a creature surged up to attack her. The adventurers barely had time to register a humanoid figure caked with mud and huge slavering jaws before the bard was flung up into the air. The creature was still holding onto her ankle, and as it reared up it latched its other hand around her throat. The young woman's scream abruptly died, and the monster pulled her into a tight embrace, its jaws opening wide to reveal rows of sharp teeth. She didn't struggle as it twisted her head roughly aside, leaving the pale flesh of her throat completely exposed to its deadly bite.

* * * * *

Chapter 61

A scant instant before the hideous monster would have torn out Glori's throat with those awful teeth, Bredan slammed into them.

The impact loosened its hold on the girl, and in that moment of advantage Bredan tore her from its grasp. He pulled her away. The creature recovered quickly and would have followed, but its legs were still embedded in the mud of the floor. It took it only a second to free itself, but before it could pursue its escaped victim Kosk rushed up from behind.

"Chew on this, ghoul!" he hissed, sweeping his staff into its back. The creature shifted quickly, and the blow only glanced off its side, doing little damage. The dwarf recoiled, choking, "Gods, that's foul!"

"It's a ghast!" Quellan warned. The priest held up his holy symbol, which began to glow with a bright light. The undead monster slashed its head right to stare at him, hissing in fury.

Bredan pulled Glori over to the side of the room. She was limp in his grasp, and as he laid her down he could see that her limbs and body were all tensed, like she was clenching all of her muscles at once. Her eyes were open and her lips twitched as though she was trying to say something, but no sound came out.

"Glori!" Bredan asked. "What's wrong, what did it do to you?"

"She's paralyzed!" Xeeta yelled. She cursed as the bolt of fire that she hurled at the ghast flashed past its head, exploding harmlessly on the far side of the room. She'd had to aim high in order to avoid accidentally hitting Kosk. "She'll recover, assuming that thing doesn't kill all of us!"

Bredan nodded and left his friend, reaching for his sword.

Quellan's power was clearly having an effect upon the ghast, but the undead monster was obviously more powerful than the skeletons, and after a moment it snarled and lunged forward. The half-orc reached for his mace, but the creature was faster. It closed the gap separating them in a single leap, its claws lashing out as it landed. With one hand it seized hold of the cleric's shield and pulled it down, and then the other flashed across his face, scraping over his helmet before tearing bloody red lines across his face. The impact knocked Quellan back, and like Glori he stiffened as he collapsed, paralyzed by the creature's fell power.

Before it could move to finish him, off, however, Xeeta launched another flaming bolt, this one striking it squarely in the center of its back. The ghast let out a furious shriek and spun to face her, the violence showing on its face causing her to stumble back a few steps.

But even as it started toward her, Bredan stepped into its path. His sword swept out in a brilliant arc, the steel glowing in the light from his spelled scabbard. But the ghast sprang nimbly back, and the stroke met only empty air.

The two combatants faced off, each wary of the other.

Kosk came at it again from behind, his face twisted from fighting off the effects of its poisonous stench. But as he swung the staff, the ghast twisted its torso and swept back an arm at an angle that would have been painful for a man. The staff glanced off its forearm before it locked its claws around the weapon and tore it from the dwarf's grasp. The ghast flung the staff at Bredan, doing no harm but forcing him back a step.

Kosk held his ground. His sandaled feet ground into the muddy earth, and for a moment his face became blank as a look of intense focus flashed in his eyes.

Then he exploded into a blur of motion.

Kosk drove one fist into the ghast's side, delivering a blow that would have shattered ribs on a normal man. Clearly even the undead monster felt it, for it spun around to face the dwarf, even though that left its back momentarily open to Bredan and Xeeta. It hissed as it raised a claw to strike.

But Kosk wasn't finished. His arms moved like the snap of a whip, delivering a series of impacts that pulverized the ghast's body. The creature withstood that assault, but each time it tried to counter the dwarf was already moving to deflect and attack again. Finally, he let out a sharp sound, more like a focused blast of noise than a battle cry, and launched one last attack. His fist struck the ghast in the breastbone with a force that knocked it off its feet. It spun around and landed hard in the mud.

Driven by the unnatural un-life that animated it, the ghast did not stay down long. But even as it rose to its feet, perhaps a bit unsteady after the hammering it had taken, Bredan's sword came sweeping down. This time it could not evade in time, and the blazing arc of steel tore its chest open from its shoulder to the opposite hip. For a moment it looked as though even that would not stop it, as it took a step forward and reached out a clawed arm toward the swordsman. Bredan drew back a step and raised his sword to a ready position, but a second stroke was not necessary. With a final hiss of frustrated rage, the ghast crumpled to the ground and did not move.

* * * * *

Chapter 62

"So that's what we came here for?" Kosk asked with a frown.

They were all standing around the altar stone, with the object that they'd found resting on its surface. It was a bronze lamp, of the style that had a handle on one end and a long spout on the other where the oil burned. The lid to the reservoir was buried under a layer of crusted patina, along with most of the rest of the lamp.

"How should we know?" Glori asked. She still looked rather pale. She and Quellan had recovered from the ghast's paralyzing touch shortly after the creature's death. The two had treated the worst of their wounds with their healing magic, but all of them still had lingering effects from their battles both in and under the ruins. After the destruction of the ghast they'd all sought out the shelter of the raised portion of the floor, careful of disturbing any more traps left behind by whoever had built this place. But no more dangers had appeared, at least thus far. Kosk had gone over every inch of the altar and the surrounding alcove before pronouncing that he had found no traps or secret panels that might have hidden anything from them. The charnel-house stench of the dead ghast persisted, making the air in the vault unpleasant, but after all they'd gone through, a foul stink was hardly worth remarking.

"I believe that it might be magical," Quellan said. "It will take some time to learn more."

"Let's take it and go, then," Kosk said. "You can look at it all you want once we're well clear of this place."

"We're all beaten up," Bredan said. "It will be just as hard getting out of here as it was getting in, if not more. A short rest might be in order."

"I have a spell that can help all of us," Quellan said. "Healing magic. It's a ritual prayer that takes ten minutes to complete."

"This doesn't strike me as the best place to linger," Kosk said.

"Bredan's right," Glori said. "I think we could all use a boost before we retrace our steps out of here." She kept rubbing her arms, though it wasn't especially cold. The scratches that the ghoul had torn in her neck had mostly healed, leaving just pale scars that were barely visible in the light from Bredan's scabbard.

"We'll need to make camp in the ruins above, in either case," Xeeta pointed out. "Unless you want to make your way back to the village in the dark."

Bredan shuddered at the suggestion. Kosk didn't look happy, but he nodded to Quellan and said, "Best get it over with, then. I'll keep watch."

"You can move around and talk, but don't leave the room until the spell is completed," Quellan said. Kosk grunted assent and went over to the entry, stepping up on the fallen slab that had almost killed him. He stood in the archway as if daring it to try something else. Xeeta moved around the perimeter of the room, examining the open vaults that penetrated into the walls. She didn't reach into any of them, prodding only with her wooden rod.

Quellan used his cloak to begin clearing dust from a spot near the altar, then laid it on the hard floor and knelt upon it.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Glori asked.

"No," Quellan said. "I just need to concentrate."

Nodding, Glori sat down on the edge of the raised area.

"Are you okay?" Bredan asked her.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You did nothing to be sorry for," he told her.

"I just... when that thing touched me... I just couldn't move. It was like I was trapped in my own body. I thought I was going to die."

"I wouldn't let that happen," Bredan said.

"I know. I'm sor—yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's just that I've never felt that helpless before."

"There have been many times since we've left Crosspath that I've felt that way," Bredan said.

"I guess I dragged you into all this," she said.

"I knew what I was getting into."

"Really? I sure didn't." She let out a soft laugh. "It's definitely been an adventure, that's for sure."

"Maybe you can write a song about it."

"Yeah." She leaned her head against the solidity of the stone wall at her back, and closed her eyes.

Bredan sat there a moment longer. The cleric was chanting now, a low string of syllables that made no sense to the smith. He watched Xeeta as she continued her explorations, finishing one wall before crossing to the other side of the room. He noticed that she'd moved past the niche where he'd spotted something earlier, just before the fight with the undead guardian had begun. She hadn't stopped at that opening, or taken anything as far as he could see. Frowning, he got up and walked over to that spot.

The niche looked undisturbed, but as his light penetrated into the opening, he saw something, a small flat rectangle. It was a book, he realized as he reached in and pulled it out. It looked old, very old. It was bound in leather that looked like it hung together more out of habit than anything else. Curious, he opened it.

The pages of the book clung together, but finally it parted to a random interior page. The parchment was in even worse shape than the cover, the pages cracked and crumbling even as he tried not to damage them further with sudden movements. But his eyes were drawn to the writing that covered them.

Bredan was hardly a scholar, but he'd learned how to read and write at a young age, and his uncle had even given him a few books of his own, mostly stories of adventure and heroic legends. But these letters were unfamiliar. They covered every inch of the faded parchment, as distinct and detailed as if they'd just been written. He found that he could not look away, the pages swelling until they filled his vision, absorbing his full awareness. He thought he was just at the edge of understanding them, as if he could decipher the text if he could only manage to concentrate a bit more.

He was so focused on the book that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice asked, "What's that?"

He barely managed to keep from dropping the book as he turned to see Xeeta standing next to him. "A book," he said.

"I can see that. Looks old. I guess whatever was written in it has faded away."

He blinked and was about to ask her what she meant when he looked back at the book. He almost dropped again it in surprise. The poor condition of the parchment hadn't changed, but the writing he'd seen earlier was gone.

"Hey, are you okay? Maybe you'd better let me take that."

He looked at her, then at the book again. There was no writing, no hint that there had ever been any writing.

"Bredan?"

"Um... yeah, sure." He closed the book and thrust it at her.

She took it from him carefully. "Usually when a book is this far gone there's nothing you can do for it, but there are techniques you can use that will sometimes bring out impressions of what used to be on the page. Given the circumstances, there may be something important. I'll bring it back with us, see what I can find."

"Okay."

"I did find something, though," she said. She put the book down and held up a small bag, the leather in as poor a condition as the cover of the book. She carefully unfolded it to reveal a handful of dark gems that flashed in the light.

"Moonstones," she said. "Very well cut. Should be worth a decent amount, once we get back to civilization."

"That's great," Bredan said, still distracted.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry, just... a long day, you know?"

"I understand." She nodded to where Glori was just getting up. "I think the priest is almost ready." She took off her pack and carefully found a space in it for the book and the bag of gemstones, then followed Bredan back over to the raised platform and the altar.

There was no dramatic flash of light or musical tone to announce the conclusion of Quellan's spell, but there was no mistaking when it took hold. Bredan let out a soft gasp as a wave of well-being swept through him, erasing the lingering effects of fatigue and injury. A pain that he hadn't even realized he still had vanished from his side where the orc warrior had stabbed him in the ruin above. Glori and Xeeta likewise showed on their faces the effects of the curative magic. Bredan bounced on his heels and suddenly felt as though he could run back to the village without difficulty.

"Nice," Kosk said from the doorway. "Can we go now?"

Glori turned to Quellan, who leaned on the altar as he got up. "Do you need to rest a moment?"

"No, I'm fine," he said.

"Xeeta found some gems," Bredan said. "Moonstones."

"Cool," Glori said, but there was still a cloud over her manner, stealing some of her usual enthusiasm.

"You can count your loot later," Kosk said. "Less talking, more leaving."

Glori took the ancient lamp and dropped it into her bag. "Okay, let's go."

* * * * *

Chapter 63

The journey back to Northpine was uneventful, but they were all relieved when the rooftops and chimneys of the village came into view in the gap between two hills ahead. None of them had talked about it during the hike, but each had carried a small fear that the cyclops or some other hazard might have found the place while they were gone. The Northpiners were independent, hearty folk, but the thought of them facing the giant or a band of the humanoids they'd encountered did not lead to happy outcomes.

"When we get to Adelar, we should tell the King's men about all of these monsters," Glori said.

"What do you think that will solve?" Kosk asked.

"They could send patrols, or something, I don't know," Glori said.

"Bands like the ones we faced would just evade a large force until they leave," Kosk said. "Threats like these are nothing new in places like this, where civilization hasn't set down deep roots."

"Well, we shouldn't do just nothing," Glori persisted. "If nothing else we should warn them about that giant being on the loose in the area."

"We will warn the villagers, and pass on the warning in every place we visit," Quellan said. "But I fear that Kosk is right about the big picture. At least we've eliminated several significant threats to the local communities in the time we've been here."

For a moment it looked like the bard wanted to argue, but finally she let out a sigh and nodded. "You're right," she said.

They trudged on another fifty steps in silence, then Glori turned and looked over at Bredan. "You've been quiet," she said in a low voice.

"I've had a headache," he said.

"You should have told me," she said. "Maybe my healing..."

"It's fine," he interrupted. "It's not bad. I just need some rest. We all do."

Glori drew back a step but didn't press him. Instead she turned to face Kosk and Quellan. Xeeta, as was typical, was bringing up the rear, and she didn't seem to share their eagerness to return to the village. She'd put her cloak back on, and the cowl was raised to its usual place covering her head.

Walking backwards, Glori asked, "Should we talk more about what we're going to do with that lamp?"

Kosk shook his head. "What's there to talk about? We give it to the sage and we go on our way. All of this has just been a distraction from our main goal here."

"Yeah, I know. But I'm still not sure about this Nordrum character."

"You weren't so careful about the elf woman," Kosk said. "And you're usually the first to take a bag of coin when it's offered."

"That's not fair," Quellan said quietly. "I admit that the fellow is odd, but he's given us no reason to suspect his motives. And my study of the lamp hasn't turned up anything dangerous. As far as I can tell, it serves as some kind of focus or aid to divination magic."

"You're right, you're right," Glori said. "It's probably nothing, just... I don't know. A feeling, I guess."

"I have a spell that can detect evil," Quellan said. "But it's mostly useful for sorting out potent auras or sensing magical creatures, it's not really effective at determining someone's motivations."

"If we're going to keep it, then we may wish to reconsider returning to the village," Xeeta suggested. The others glanced back at her; even now that she'd been a member of their company for a while she rarely participated in these discussions.

"Too late for that," Kosk growled, nodding toward a small figure who'd appeared ahead and was running eagerly toward them.

"Indel!" Quellan shouted, waving as the boy approached. "You know better than to leave the village!"

"Bloody kid's parents need to give him some bloody chores," Kosk muttered under his breath.

The village boy was out of breath by the time he reached them, but his face was alive with excitement. "They found him! They found Caric!"

"What?" Glori asked. "When?"

"Right after you left, yesterday!" The boy grinned as the others gathered around him, all save for Xeeta, who remained back a few steps with her cowl drawn low over her face.

"Where was he?" Glori asked.

"He was hiding in the crawl space under the Devison farm," Indel reported. Sucking in a quick breath he continued, "Apparently he was trying to avoid being punished for some apple butter he'd stolen, and when he heard everyone looking for him he decided to stay there. He'd made a nice little nest for himself down there, some kind of game. They caught him when he snuck out to steal food."

"I'll break his legs," Kosk said.

"Why didn't they send someone after us?" Bredan asked. "I've seen horses in the village, they could have sent someone."

"I don't know," Indel said. "I just know that Caric's in big trouble. There was a lot of yelling... I thought that Derik Anthernon's head was going to pop, the way he looked. The sheriff had to take him outside. Caric's mom was crying a lot. Man! Everybody's all riled up."

"Well," Quellan said. He looked at each of his companions in turn. "I suppose that's that, then. Come on, we'd better get back." With an extra nod toward Glori he added, "We can decide what we want to do when we get there."

Indel ran ahead of them as they resumed walking toward the village, no doubt to spread the word of their approach. "One leg," Kosk said. "Just let me break one leg."

"I'll hold him down for you," Glori said.

* * * * *

Chapter 64

As they entered the village it was clear that recent events still had the population on edge. They saw several clusters of villagers engaged in conversation as they approached the inn, but on seeing the adventurers they quickly separated and went about their own business. That business all seemed to be in locations far away from the strangers.

"What's wrong with them?" Bredan asked. "You'd think we hadn't saved their village a few times over."

"They are uncertain about how you will react to the news of the boy," Xeeta said. "Or maybe they saw the dwarf's face and assume we already know."

Kosk muttered something under his breath, but his scowl eased only fractionally under their scrutiny.

Before they could reach the Gray Oak Inn, Erron Laddrick came into view from behind the sprawling structure and hailed them. The sheriff wore his sword and looked like he'd already had a long day.

"You heard the news, I suppose," he said when he got close enough to speak without raising his voices.

"We are just glad that the boy is safe," Quellan said.

"We also have news," Glori said. She quickly provided an overview of their encounters, including the cyclops and the orcs. She left the details of what they'd found in the cave complex vague, and didn't mention the lamp.

Laddrick's expression grew more concerned as she spoke. "First kobolds, then goblins, and now orcs? And a giant?"

"The orcs were the remnants of a group that invaded the elves' lands on the far side of the Dry Hills," Quellan said. "The cyclops remains a threat, but I believe it headed deeper into the hills rather than in this direction. It was wounded, and not looking for a fight."

"I'll have word sent to each of the other villages in the area, just in case," Laddrick said. He gave them all a looking-over, his gaze lingering on Bredan, who looked like he might fall down. "You look like you've had a rough couple of days."

"We are used to such things," Quellan said.

"Well, I am sure the Village Council will want a full report, when you've had a chance to rest and get something to eat. I'll pass on what you told me. I'd ask that you keep quiet about the giant, at least until I've had a chance to warn some people. I'd prefer to avoid a panic in the village."

"Understood, sheriff," Quellan said.

Laddrick had barely taken his leave and they had not yet continued on to the inn when someone else came rushing to meet them. Kosk spotted him first, "Here we go," he said.

Nordrum looked as casually disheveled as ever, but he also looked like he'd gotten hardly any more rest than the adventurers had over the last few days. His eyes flicked to each of them as if he could see what they carried. "Did you find anything? Was there anything there?"

Glori shared a look with each of the others and said, "Oh, we found something."

"Could we maybe do this in the private room in the inn, rather than in the street?" Kosk asked. "At least there we can get some ale. You're buying, sage," he added.

Innkeeper Beedlebrim seemed happy enough to see them, though the villagers in the common room seemed as ill at ease as the others they'd encountered outside. He offered food, hot water, and towels for washing, but when Nordrum looked like he was about to explode at any further delay they just asked for the use of his back room and a few pitchers of ale.

The sage fidgeted by the fireplace until Beedlebrim came in with a platter laden with two pitchers, half a dozen mugs, and a plate of steaming rolls. Bredan barely waited until the innkeeper set the platter down on the table before he stuffed one of the rolls into his mouth.

"Mfrmph, dat's good," he mumbled through the hot bread.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Glori chided. Kosk filled a mug and drained it before filling a cup for each of them.

"You were successful, I know it," Nordrum said. "What did you find?"

"I hope you brought your purse, sage," Kosk said.

"We found a lamp," Quellan said. "A bronze lamp."

"It was guarded by some skeletons and a ghast," Kosk said. "The latter, it didn't go down easy."

Quellan took off his pack and dug into it. "We believe that the lamp is an aid to divination magic," he said.

"The Lamp of Kharduzz," Nordrum breathed, his face transported from eagerness to awed joy. He bent over the table as Quellan took out the cloth bundle and unwrapped it to reveal the artifact.

It didn't look like much sitting there on the table in the daylight spilling in through the window. In fact, Bredan thought, it sort of looked like a piece of junk. He took one of the mugs and drank swallows of ale, trying not to think about his headache.

Glori was watching the sage intently. "Is that what you were looking for?" she asked.

Nordrum smiled and looked up at her. "Indeed, the Lamp is an exceptional find. Well worth the reward I offered." He reached into one of the pockets of his robe and drew out a small, tightly-bound bag and a small scroll tucked into a leather tube. "There are a hundred gold coins here, and a writ of credit for the remainder that any merchant house in Adelar will honor."

"Well then," Glori said, reaching out to take the bag and the scroll. She looked over at Xeeta and said, "Hey, maybe he can help with that book you found..."

Nordrum's hand shot out and locked on the bard's wrist, holding it tight. Glori looked up at him in surprise, and Quellan stepped forward with a look on his face that had the sage releasing her quickly. "My apologies. A book? You found a book at the site? May I... may I see it?"

The companions shared another look—the sage was almost trembling with anticipation—but Glori deliberately put the bag of coins and the writ of credit away before saying, "Don't get excited, it wasn't exactly in good shape, and the contents were completely unreadable."

Bredan's left eye twitched, but he didn't say anything.

Nordrum's hands fidgeted until he grasped hold of his robe, hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "Yes, of course. But, still. Written works from this era are so _rare_ , and... if I could just see? If it's a matter of money, of course I would be happy to double the reward. Triple it. That is... if it's anything salvageable, of course."

Glori looked at each of the others before she turned to Xeeta and nodded. The tiefling, still wearing the concealing features of her alteration spell, drew out her pack and carefully extracted the wrapped parcel inside.

The sage watched every small motion. It was as if the others had ceased to exist. But as she began to unwrap the blanket she'd folded the book into for protection she frowned. "That's odd," she said.

"What is it?" Glori said, turning to look. They all did, forcing Nordrum to crane his neck to see.

In answer the sorceress stepped forward to the table and lifted the blanket. Nordrum lunged out to catch the book, but all that came out was a cascade of dust. There were tiny bits of matter in it, but mostly it was just dust, a fine gray mound of it that gathered on the table. Nordrum stared at it as if someone had just told him his child had drowned in the river.

"Like I said, not in good shape," Glori said.

With an obvious effort Nordrum tore his attention from the remains of the book. "And... you said it was unreadable. That means you looked at it, yes?"

"Yes," Glori said. "The pages were blank."

"Whatever text might have once been on it had long since faded away," Xeeta said. "The conditions where it was found were extremely poor, moist air and cold." But her eyes flicked to the pile of debris, and she frowned.

"Alas," Nordrum said. "Alas." He turned back to the lamp, running a finger along the stained metal.

"Yeah, well," Kosk said, putting his mug down on the table with enough force to draw their attention. One of the pitchers was completely empty, and the second one close to it. "If that concludes our business, I've got an empty belly and a second skin of dust and grime I'd like to shed." With that they departed, leaving the sage bent low over his new treasure, examining every detail in the waning afternoon sunlight.

* * * * *

Chapter 65

Bredan tried to ignore his headache as he made his way to the broad flight of wooden steps that led to the common room. The inn was quiet. It was late, but not so late that there wouldn't still be people drinking and enjoying themselves in any of the inns in Crosspath. Rural folk went to bed earlier, it seemed.

He was careful to hold onto the railing as he descended. His head seemed to pound with each step he took. The headache had been with him since they'd left behind the ruins, but it had gotten worse, enough that he couldn't sleep despite his exhaustion. It had been about the only thing that had kept him from dozing off during their meeting with the village council earlier. Fortunately, Glori and Quellan had done most of the talking and there hadn't been any need for him to speak up.

A single lamp burned low in the common room. Its light revealed one other person still awake, seated at a table close to the lamp so he could read the book he had folded open on the table in front of him. Quellan was intent on his reading, but as Bredan reached the last step it let out a low creak. The cleric looked up and nodded in greeting.

Bredan went over to the bar and reached behind to grab a bottle of the local brandy that the villagers made from apples and pears instead of grapes. He took a silver coin out of his purse and left it in the space where the bottle had rested, then took a pair of glasses and went over to the half-orc's table. It was still a strange feeling, having a full purse. And that wasn't even counting what they would get when they got to Adelar and cashed in the sage's letter of credit.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Bredan asked as he put the bottle and glasses on the table.

"No. None for me, thank you," Quellan said as Bredan poured out a measure of the spirit. The stuff was like the hard cider he'd sometimes drunk back home, but it had a decent kick. He hoped that it would help ease his headache.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

Quellan held up the book. It had a plain leather cover without even a title on the front or the spine. "It's called _The Principles of Knowing_. It's one of the core texts of my faith. I haven't taken the time to read in quite a while, it helps me focus my thoughts."

"I can understand why you might want to do that, after... after everything."

"Is it what you thought it would be?" Quellan asked. "All this, the adventuring life?"

"Well, it's not quite one of Glori's stories. But it hasn't been dull."

"No, that is certainly true."

"I don't know. This can't be typical. One village, with so many troubles."

"It may be much worse in the north."

"I know. I know that's what everyone keeps saying, and I understand what we're getting ourselves into. Or at least, I know it can be bad. But it's necessary, right?"

"I am not trying to talk you out of your commitment," Quellan said. "I know you have skill, and a good heart. The challenges we faced here will make a real difference in the lives of these people, even if we had nothing to do with finding the missing boy."

"A fact that Kosk will no doubt never let us forget," Bredan said. He finished off his brandy and considered the bottle.

The front door of the inn swung open and a familiar figure came inside. "I saw the light," Erron Laddrick said. The sheriff wore his sword, and he had a small hunter's bow slung across his back.

"Come, join us, sheriff," Quellan said.

Laddrick's boots sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet of the sleeping inn as he crossed the floor to their table.

"Do you patrol the village often at night, sheriff?" Bredan asked.

"I do enjoy the quiet after sundown," Laddrick said. "Though I must admit, I have been taking evening walks more often since you arrived."

"Understandable," Quellan said. "Would you care to join us for a drink?"

Laddrick glanced down at the bottle. "Perhaps just a small one," he said.

Bredan poured him a measure and refreshed his own glass. "Thank you kindly," Laddrick said as he took his glass. He took a drink then glanced at each of them. "So," he said, "are you planning on resuming your journey north tomorrow?"

Bredan paused in the midst of lifting his glass to his lips. "You're the third person to ask me that today," he said.

Laddrick put his glass down on the tabletop. "The folk who live here are simple folk, living simple lives," he said. "Since you arrived here, things have been anything but simple."

Bredan put his glass down with rather more force than the sheriff had. "Are you suggesting it's our fault that all this happened? If we hadn't come along those monsters would still be there, and the danger to your village would be greater than it is now."

Quellan leaned forward to interject, but Laddrick forestalled both of them with a raised hand. "Peace," he said. "I'm not saying you're wrong about any of that. I'm just telling you that people are nervous, and scared."

"These events are likely related to the war," Quellan said. "Those orcs, at least, they came from the north. We're just lucky they faced the elves first instead of coming directly south through the Dry Hills. From what the elves told us, there were over a hundred of them at one point."

Laddrick nodded. "We are grateful for all you've done. In fact, some of the local figures took up a collection, as a gesture of thanks." He reached under his cloak and took out a small pouch that jingled slightly as he set it on the table.

"That's not necessary," Quellan said, but now it was Bredan's turn to hold up a hand. "Don't be too hasty," the smith said. "You know Glori would never forgive either of us if we turned down a reward."

"It's less than you deserve," Laddrick said. "And after everything with the boy... well, it would be a relief to some folks if you took it, along with my personal thanks."

Quellan looked at Bredan and nodded; the smith took the pouch and tucked it into a pocket of his coat. The sheriff stood. "Thanks for the drink," he said.

Quellan stood as well, followed by Bredan. "We are glad we were able to help," the cleric said. He offered a hand, and after a moment the sheriff took it. "As for your first question, I think we will be moving on in the morning. Our dwarven friend has been quite... impatient, and events are no doubt moving swiftly in the north."

"Good luck," Laddrick said. "If I were still a young man I'd be envious of you, but I'll be honest... I'm glad I'm not walking your path this time around."

"We're just doing what has to be done," Bredan said.

Laddrick nodded. "I bid you good evening then, gentlemen." With a final nod he retraced his steps, his boots clattering upon the empty floor before he reached the door and disappeared the way he had come.

The two adventurers let the silence recover a bit before Quellan said, "Well. I suppose I should try to get some sleep, if we're to have a long day tomorrow." He nodded toward the bottle. "You may wish to do the same."

Bredan's eyes lingered on the bottle a moment before he replaced the cork, but he brought it with him when he turned back to the stairs. Quellan walked with him, the half-orc's steps causing the smooth floorboards to creak heavily under him.

The two reached the stairs before Bredan turned suddenly. "I wonder what's been happening in the north while we've been here," he said.

"We'll find out soon enough," Quellan said. "We should make better time once we hit the King's Road. There will likely be more traffic, patrols. No doubt there will be a lot of men and supplies heading north."

"Are you saying the worst of the journey is over?" Bredan asked.

The cleric shook his head. "We're heading into a war," he said. "I think it's safe to say that the worst lies ahead."

The End of Volume One

The story continues in _Warriors of Shadow._
