One Night in Hommlet

Willow caught my sleeve and pointed.

Approaching the ruined moathouse was a pair of torches. We were too far away for me to count the number of men between them, but the spacing was better than twenty feet. I saw the flicker of a large bonfire burning inside the structure itself and, as I watched, a third torch appeared by the entrance and waved to the ones approaching. The torch in the lead waved back.

Willow bumped my arm with her elbow then pointed at the men with her red chin. "So we charge in, kill them all, loot their treasure and then return to the inn to live like royalty, right?"

I chuckled. "Something like that, yeah."

"Good." Standing up, she turned to go back to where the others were. "Just remember it's pillage, rape, then burn."

Shaking my head, I took a deep breath and started down the path. It's a given that I was moving so silently that a passing fox might have noticed me, but nothing else. Not a leaf moved wrong or a bird arose startled. By the time I was halfway to the moathouse, I could hear the occupants. Not so much as words but muffled echoes of what must have been loud boisterous laughter floated across the swamp-covered distance.

Ah, yes ... the swamp.

My first awayness that I wasn't alone came only seconds before the attack. Those precious moments were all that saved me from being dinner.

Tumbling away from a ten-foot long projectile tongue had never been, admittedly, something I had any training for, but it was close enough to dodge an arrow to be somewhat familiar. From the scabbard that hangs across the small of my back, I pulled my broad-bladed short sword. I lashed out at the tongue as it shot past me a second time. It was sucked back into the huge frog's mouth. I might possibly have clipped it with just the tip of my sword, but I had hardly injured the large creature enough for the mewling sound it began to make.

"Chirp! cluck! Chirp!"

Then there was a huge rustle in the tall reeds ahead.

"CROAK!"

This deep sound seemed to reverberate throughout the swamp. So powerful and bass it seemed to vibrate my ribs. With a bound, the frog rocketed into sight, cleared the grass, and landed all wet and slime-covered next to the much smaller one that had attacked me. It nudged the smaller frog, that made a weak ribbit in response. As I watched -- taking slow easy steps backward the whole time -- the larger frog seemed to almost snarl as the smaller frog weakly spat out a gob of blood. Then it's large eyes turned back towards me.

"Oh, shit."

You know, when a frog the size of a draft horse is mad at you for chopping its kid's tongue off, there is no loss of dignity in turning tail and running like a frightened kobold.

I was, at best, less than thirty feet away when the massive amphibian leaped, landed next to me, and then swatted me ass-over-teakettle into the swamp. The sawgrass cut at my face and the hard reeds poked at my neck, then I was underwater and choking on a mouthful of mud. As I struggled to rise a wide heavy foot smashed into the middle of my back and forced me back down into the mud. I involuntarily screamed underwater when I felt a large rubbery mouth nipping at the back of my head; small teeth pulling out tufts of my hair.

A very human foot splashed into the mud next to me and stepped on my hand. However, given my dire predicament, it could have tap-danced on my fingers for all I cared.

The frog vaulted off me and then a strong hand yanked me to my feet.

"On your feet, Kyle. We're getting surrounded!"

Shaking the mud out my eyes, coughing the foul-tasting muck out of my mouth, I heard more than saw what Willow spoke of. More and more wet shiny frogs were appearing among the grassy reeds. Their eyes glowed bright in the moonlight. Some were small and close-set but at least a good half-dozen were the size of the larger behemoth, which was even now eying us with evil hunger. Willow had her large hand and a half blade in a high guard and was intimidating the frog, if that is possible. Least way the monster didn't move toward us or strike out with its tongue as its smaller brethren had.

Or more likely it was awaiting our encircling.

That there was enough intelligence in this base creature's bulbous head to allow for pack tactics was a frightening notion in and of itself.

"Umber!"

"I'm good. Let's try to get out of here. Where are the others?"

A voice called out softly from the hillock behind us, but a goodly distance away still.

"Oh, we're over here, staying dry and alive." Liam gave a merry laugh. "I must say you've chosen such a beautiful spot for a bit of late night frog gigging? Although these are so big, they might be a bit tough and chewy."

"Quiet Liam," Vallejo stepped to the forefront. "Kyle, I'm going to cast a spell. It will make these frogs sleep for a bit. On my word, get clear. Quietly ... if possible."

Kneeling down, I slowly picked up my dropped sword from the mud at my feet. The big frog took a stirring step my way, but a deep snarl from Willow turned the bloated amphibian back toward her.

Behind me, I heard a language being spoken that no human throat should have been able to manage.

In the span of a second, all the frogs dropped in place like they had been poleaxed.

"Now," Rowan called out.

Scrambling through the muck back to our companions, Willow and I were both soaked but hardly more than winded. We looked at each other as we caught our breath and gave a mutual giggle-chuckle. Rowan moved over and began to check me over. I winced at the touch of her fingers on the back of my head. I was missing bits of scalp. She had me kneel while she worked a simple spell to heal the minor wound.

Liam drew his narrow bladed short sword. "Hey, why don't we just go kill the frogs now that they are asleep?"

Vallejo caught his arm. "My spell isn't powerful. Hardly more than a cantrip." He pointed to one frog that was already starting to stir. "I knew it wouldn't last long, but it was worth a try." He chuckled. "Mostly I use it to help myself get to sleep at nights."

With a grunt, Liam shot his sword back into its scabbard. "Alright so how do we get past them?"

Standing up, I knew the answer. "Torches."

Everyone looked toward me, puzzled.

"They didn't attack the bandits when they arrived. They had those torches." Looking back toward the moathouse, I shook my head. "I would guess these guys have trained these frogs not to approach lights."

"Well, we can't bloody well just stroll up to the place carrying torches." Liam spit at the distant frogs that were now croaking up a storm trying to find their lost dinner. "Looks like we're back to my plan. Let the bandits get snookered then kill them all and hope for some decent loot."

"Why not?" asked Willow.

He gave her a look. "Why not what?"

"Why not use torches? The bandits are all drinking." She pointed to the half-sunk road. "We move quickly, light the torches only when we must. We could be at those wooden doors before they even knew we were there."

Liam looked at her like she was mad.

"Works for me."

Rowan Ellcry slipped her mace from the leather belt loop that held it secured to her side. From her horse she lifted down her small, buckler-type shield, and slipped it down her arm, strapping it tight.

"Are you mad?"

"It's not that bad of a plan really." Vallejo gave a small shrug.

"It's a terrible plan! A frontal assault against a moathouse full of who knows how many bandits?" He shook his head and stepped back away from us is hands held out wide. "I would expect such from the barbarian, but I gave the two of you credit for more brains than this. This is madness and I'm not dying over wine."

Willow stepped past me, a look of growing contempt on her face. She came to stand in front of Liam.

"Madness?"

** ** ** ** ** ** **

"This is SPARTA!" Belinda giggled. "And I kick him into the swamp."

We all laughed, but then Philip chucked a rolled up ball of paper at Belinda and she backhand batted it back. Mom caught it as it went back a third time, held it for a half second then, with a grin, flicked it at my face.

"Hey!" Ducking fast, it flew over my shoulder and vanished through the kitchen door. Spinning the dining room chair about, I sprinted after it and then sent it speed-balling back into the dining room, aimed -- more or less -- at my mom. Mom proved that those dusty softball trophies in the attic were well earned by snatching the paper ball out the air. She pointed at me, then sent it at John.

"Mind the glasses, please." He to ducked but wasn't as quick as I had been and it peened off the top of his head like a soccer ball and vaulted toward the hanging lamp over the table. With a graceful arch, it looped over and came down with beautiful accuracy into Philip's empty coffee cup.

"GOAL!!"

Laughing, I met Belinda's eyes and we shared a private giggle.

"Bathroom break anyone?" John asked. "Since we're stopped already. I know I could use some soda, and maybe something sweet."

"Me," I said turning toward the hallway.

Belinda hopped to her feet. "Me too."

She passed me in the hallway, just as I was about to enter the bathroom, and I jumped when she poked me in the hip. Flashing me a smile, she vanished into my mom's bedroom. With a grin, I closed the bathroom door behind me. I was only a few minutes in there before there was a hard knock, but I was barely halfway done.

Philip. A guess that was quickly confirmed.

"Hey, hurry up in there. Others need to use the facilities too, you know. You're not on your phone, are you? That's not a phone booth, mister. Hey! Are you listening to me?" Again he knocked on the door. "We know what you're doing Richie? We don't have time for that young man. I'm going to have to tell your mother about this behavior if you don't come out of there."

Opening the door, I flicked water from the sink off my fingernails and into his face. "All yours."

"Hey, Richie?"

"Yeah, Mom?" Looking down the hall, I could just see her at the dining room table.

She held up her tablet."This thing is going dead. Grab my phone off the charger for me, if you would. And the long cord charger too ... please?"

"Sure."

Stepping into my mom's bedroom, I moved to her nightstand and I was picking up the phone charger when Belinda opened the bathroom door and started to step out. She jumped a lot more than I did.

"Oh! Damn it, you scared me."

"Sorry," I said.

She looked to the hallway. "Hey, come here." She stepped back into the bathroom.

With a mental shrug, curiosity perhaps making me rash, I followed her into mom's bathroom. Even as I did I noticed that she had an open button on her top. With no control over them, my eyes locked onto that half-hidden display of dark skin and lacy pink bra that was so eye-catching.

"I have an idea." She caught my shirt and gave it a tug.

I looked up quickly and blinked at her raised eyebrow. "Okay?"

She bit her bottom lip. Those pearl white teeth sinking into that luscious plump lip, shiny with gloss, that always drew attention. "I want you to help me convince Philip to sneak into the bandit's lair. I think his stealth is high enough to make it possible."

"But the frogs?" I asked, puzzled.

"Oh no, I mean once we're there at the door with the torches." She shrugged. "I've got an idea that there are more bandits inside than we can handle. John brought all those figure cases for a reason. Let's jump gears on that and manage this the smart way."

I chuckled. "Toss the thief in and let him take care of it, huh? You've been reading Tolkien again."

She gave a non-committal smile and gave my shirt another tug. "So you game, or what?"

Before I could answer, the bathroom door opened behind me.

Mom gave us an amused look. "Um, if you two want to make-out, how about you do it on a date -- in the backseat of a car, maybe -- but not in my bathroom."

"We weren't making out." Belinda hurriedly turned my shirt loose. "We were planning!"

"Ah. Well, that's not what it looked like, not with your shirt unbuttoned, but I'll give you a pass." Mom smirked. "So, what's the plan."

Hastily refastening her shirt, Belinda explained it, but Mom began to shake her head almost at once.

"Sorry, it's not a bad idea, but not for the reason you used. John brought a lot of miniatures, yes." Mom shook a finger. "But it's called meta-gaming when you have your character reacting to knowledge you yourself have, but that Willow wouldn't. It's a no-no and for good reason." She sighed. "Let me think a moment."

Mom looked into the bathroom mirror, stared into her own eyes. She absently adjusted her hair for a second then slowly smiled at us in the reflection. "I've got it."

She left us hanging.

"Well?" I asked.

"We do need someone to scout the moathouse before we go charge in. That was Philip's main objection. We don't know what we're getting into. We use the torches, we get to the door and then let our 'Reconnoiterer' can go in and reconnoiter. Then, once we know what we are getting into, we can make a better plan." She looked at Belinda. "A frontal assault isn't always a great idea, hun."

The girl beside me shrugged, her shirt collar dropping off one shoulder from the motion. Belinda absently put it back before answering. "I know, but I figured it would be what a barbarian would do."

I heard her answer but I was far too entranced with what I had just seen. Beautiful dark skin -- the color of toffee or maybe mocha coffee -- with a bright pink bra strap hiding just under the edge of the open neck of her shirt. That wonderful and semi-sexy image was now going to be burned into my mind for days and days. I just know it.

They were both looking at me. Belinda straight on, Mom in the mirror reflection still.

"Sounds good to me," I said, agreeing.

"Ahem. Well, let's go convince our trap detector that his roguish skills are imperative to this night's adventure." Mom gave us both a smile, turned and winked. "Oh, and the frontal assault isn't just a bad idea when it comes to attacking bandit-filled moathouses. Let me handle this. I'll convince Philip that not only was this his idea but that he should pay us for the privilege of watching him at work. Now out, I want to use my own bathroom."

We started to leave, but Mom called me back just as I reached the bedroom door.

"Yeah?"

She looked past me in the direction of the hallway. "You do know that was probably about the best chance you had for getting her to kiss you tonight and you let her walk right out without a word. Not even a shared smile?"

"Mom... "

"Oh, don't 'mom' me." She pursed her lips and leaned in towards me, conspiratorial. "I didn't get to be the age I am without seeing two young people falling for each other. I know what the signs are. If you are not seeing them, let me give you a clue, Ricky." Mom smiled at me. "She's into you. Trust me. And I promise you, Richie, if you will stop thinking that initiative is just a dice roll -- and maybe take charge a bit more -- you might learn just what flavor that lip gloss she's wearing is. Now get."

I felt like I had fallen into a mentally distorted place where the world no longer made sense. My mom was giving me advice on girls, and the girl was among my best friends in the world. A girl which, before tonight, I had not really considered in quite that light. Well, no more so than I consider any beautiful woman.

Beautiful? Did I really see Belinda as that?

True enough, she was pretty easy on the eyes. But there had always seemed to be just... well, "something" about her face that wasn't what I would describe as classically beautiful. But, oddly enough tonight -- here with her taking on the persona of the barbarian Willow -- that vaguely half-perceived flaw had somehow become more of a beauty mark than a distraction. I guess she needed the wildness of thought and action that was Willow to bring out in her the true beauty that was highlighted in her smile and in her eyes.

"Hey, any chance we might get back to the game? I mean, you know, before John here decides that the frogs should all have woken up and eaten us while we stood around chatting."

Giving Philip a fuck off and die look, I shot him a bird, then I diverted into the kitchen to grab me a coke.

Sitting down, I shared a covert smile with Belinda.

Mom entered, sat down and looked across to John. "Alright, we're going to gather what we need to make a couple of torches." She looked at her character sheet. "I have oil to soak the cloth with."

Philip shook his head. "We're not doing this! This is crazy."

"No, you're not doing this." Mom countered. Then, at a nod from Todd, she shrugged. "I guess you're staying here on the hillock, alone in the swamp, and we're going to go take a look-see at the moathouse." She looked at me. "Kyle, do you think you can scout out the inside if we can get you to the wall?"

"Sure. I mean, I guess so."

Philip sat forward agitated. "What? In a building? He couldn't find darkness in a black alley."

Well ... okay...

Suddenly the desire to roll some dice -- with good results of course -- and prove this fucker wrong was pretty damn strong in me. Grand plan or not.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Broken Gates: One door is hanging open on one great hinge, the others...

The torches worked well enough, although there was one large and very familiar frog that tracked us the entire way and gave me the evil eye the whole time.

From inside the sounds of the celebration had increased.

The main gate showed signs of having faced a battering ram at some point in its existence. Also, the drawbridge was no longer capable of being raised and looked pretty severely rotted. Only the muddy tracks the bandits had left gave me any confidence that this thing would support our weight. As it was, I was glad we had left the horses behind with Liam.

Or at least I thought we had.

"Move it, ranger boy, this is thief work."

Liam moved up behind me, placed a restraining hand on my shoulder and gave me a smirk. With an arrogant saunter, he moved to the door and looked over the heavy crude lock.

Rowan appeared beside me. "Liam, did you at least leave the horses somewhere safe?"

"Yeah, yeah. I picketed them back up in that stand of cottonwoods." He took a metal pick from a pouch at his side. "Now hush my little cleric lady and let the master lock picker work."

With a roll of her eyes heavenward Rowan said a small prayer, and then she directed my gaze over to a section of the wall that was all but collapsed. Nodding, skirting the edge of the moat, I moved as quietly as a leaf on the wind to that rubble-choked corner. The water had apparently undercut the foundation and the wall had collapsed into the moat. Climbing the scattered stone was no harder than crossing a street for me. Sneaking back along the inside of the wall, I made my way to the door. If anything the inside showed even more damage than the outer had. Apparently, someone not only wanted in this place but had equally wanted out just as badly.

The door began to swing open with a groan.

"Ha! See I told you I could do it, oh ye of little faith -- YEECH!" Seeing me standing there just the others side, Liam jumped backward and was only saved from falling into the moat by his bumping into Willow, who shoved him back forward.

Vallejo shook his head in disgust. "Will you all stop playing the fool! Liam, gather yourself together and go scout ahead. Kyle, check out that stable, Willow watch out for bandits coming out that doorway there. The tracks go that way." He turned to the cleric at his side. "Watch our backs, Rowan. There might be other bandit parties still out there in the marsh."

Liam straightened his jacket, gave Willow a nasty look and then shot me one as well. "And what are you going to be doing, your wizardship?"