One Night in Hommlet

The bald mage gave the thief a smile of his own. "What any wizard worth his robes should do. I'm going to go take a look at that ruined tower."

The structure might have indeed once been a tower, now it was hardly more than a pile of rocks in a vaguely tower-ish shape. There was still a set of broken steps and a doorway. Since the stable was in the same general direction he and I walked side by side toward it. As we reached the tower steps Vallejo caught at my sleeve.

"Keep your wits about you, Kyle. This isn't the smartest thing we've ever done."

Nodding I split off from him, continued forward, and entered the stables by the side door.

The horses within looked muddy, starved, and winded. No one had tended to them beyond removing saddles and tack. At my entrance, they lifted tired heads and a few rattled their feed buckets. Moving forward, I laid a soothing hand upon the nose of a large gray stud.

"Typical. They treat their animals no better than they treat their fellow humans. Easy big fella."

A plan to take these mounts and, by doing thus, hinder the bandit's pursuit of us -- once we had re-acquired the wine -- was forming in my mind when I heard a scream. I sprinted back out the door.

Willow was going toward the tower at a run.

I was closer.

Taking the broken steps two at a time, I was through the ruined door and swinging my short sword at the dark, massive creature standing poised over Vallejo before I was even sure what it was. It gave out a hissing snarl at my strike and spun on eight legs around to face me, fangs extended.

With a primal cry, Willow came through the door at my side, rushed the beast, and struck the thing without thought of personal defense or even a hint of mercy. It screeched as her thick hand and a half bastard sword sliced deep into its guts.

Swinging to the side, standing over Vallejo's prone form, I lashed out at a great hairy leg that got too close and severed the foul thing. Black smoking ichor covered my blade and I flung the stuff clear least it possibly etch the steel.

At my feet, Vallejo mumbled an arcane word.

Fiery missiles, a brilliant shade of azure blue, sprang up from the mage's feebly raised hand and flashed instantly into the side of the furry black creature. They struck and seemed to knock it backward with each impact. The great spider screamed and hissed, then it turned toward the source of its newest pain.

That was it's undoing.

With a battle cry, Willow drove her sword into the creature's side till the cross guard struck flesh and I saw the point exit violently out its other side, in front of me. Thrashing in pain, the spider spun away from us, slammed into the stone wall, tried for a moment to climb, but then crumpled to the floor in a dead twitching hulk.

Rowan was through the door and at Vallejo's side a second later.

"Easy my friend."

As I watched her hand began to glow a pale white. Then brighter and brighter till it was hard to see, then that light seemed to pass into the body of the mage and I saw it highlight his bones within. The wound on his side began to ooze a dark puss and then they smoked, a sickening smelling vapor. Blinking away the tears this feted stench had brought forth, I saw the skin on Vallejo's suddenly close, and then a mildly-pink scar formed.

The mage drew in a deep easy breath and held up a hand for me to assist him to his feet.

"I was hardly inside the door when the thing pounced on me from above." He pointed to a small shadowed alcove. "I was, I'm afraid, too distracted by that to even see it falling towards me."

Rowan looked to where he was pointing, and I followed her gaze. A small white chest sat upon a stone pedestal, hopelessly entombed in cobwebs.

"Ah, finally some loot." Liam moved past us, stepping over a sprawled spider leg, and waved the torch he carried at the dusty webs till they burned away. "Looks like ivory. I know a buyer that would give us a pretty penny for something like that."

"Is the buyer close by?" asked Willow.

He blinked at the question. "Well, no of course not. He's in--"

She took the torch out his hand "Then stuff it into a bag and let's get back to finding that stolen wine."

Liam shrugged that off. "Oh, I found that already. While the lot of you were in here playing with a spider I have scouted out the bandit's lair." He pointed out the doorway and across the middle of the moathouse square. "Across there, up those stairs, and across a great hall is a large doorway. All the laughing and voices are coming from the other side. It's a good guess to say that there is where the wine will be."

"Quiet!" Willow hissed. "I heard something. Someone is coming!"

They were easy enough to see, coming across the courtyard carrying torches held before them. Both seemed to wobble as they walked. Liam doused his light and we all stood deeper into the shadowy darkness of the tower's interior. I didn't fear they would see us, not with those lights flaming before their eyes. But the glint of firelight off metal was a possibility. I hid my short sword behind my back and crouched low by the doorway. Willow made her way to my side as slow as a cat hunting a mouse.

"I can hear them talking."

I shot the red-skinned tiefling a look. The men were too far away for me to even make out that they were speaking, let alone hear sounds.

She gave me a small chuckle and then pointed at her pointed ears. "They are bitching." Another laugh. "And drunk."

Sure enough, as they got closer, I could make out their complaints.

"Ya had to fuckin' well say you heard somethin'." The taller brigand violently slapped his cloak at the man next to him tagging him in the side. "Ya just had to open your mouth to da boss. Now, instead of wine and songs, we got fog and frogs for company."

"But I did hear somethin' Fynn. I sweart I did! Twas a scream like, it was."

"It was a night bird getting gobbled up by those damn frogs, ya fool. Ya have heard it a hundred times and never given a squeak before. But tonight -- when we got wine and merry aplenty -- you a'wont to pipe your head off." Again he slapped the man with his cloak. "I aught to put a knot on your noggin' I should."

"You just try it, Fynn and I'll tickle your fat belly with a bolt I will." The small man raised a crossbow into sight. He wavered side to side but managed to more or less point it in the right direction. "I've good and well had it with all of you lot picking on poor old Slyvie, I have. I've got my pride too ya know."

The big man turned and raised the longsword he carried, suddenly much soberer than he had appeared. "Ya want to play with me tonight, ya maggot-chewer? I'll feed ya coward's tripes to the frogs."

"Easy, easy now Fynn." Backpedaling a step and nearly falling, the smaller man moved the crossbow till it wasn't even vaguely pointed at the taller man. "I meant nothin' by it. I don't mean no harm, you know that. I's just to be speaking my peace and all. I've got that right, same as others."

Behind the two men, I saw a human-sized shadow move. Looking behind me I saw that, sure enough, Liam was no longer in the room with the rest of us.

"Damn it... " I clenched my fingers around my sword's hilt.

"What?" Willow asked.

I didn't have to answer, she quickly saw for herself.

As the two men turned and started to move towards the gate once more the shadow behind them arose, paced the distance to them in silent steps, and I saw a blade rise. Liam, his hand around the smaller man's mouth, silenced Slyvie's complaints forever with a quick slash of his dagger to the man's throat.

Without a sound still, he dragged the feet-twitching corpse behind a pile of tumbled rocks and hid in the shadows.

Unaware the taller man walked on. "Honestly, Slyvie, you need to learn how to talk to people. I's an easy goin' kind of fella, some of these others would take what ya said to heart. You know that Drogo would gut you for the fun of it. And Tosser, hell he would kill a man for his shoes, knowing they wouldn't fit."

When he received no response he turned. Then he was a whirl of flashing torchlight and sword swipes.

"Slyvie! Slyvie where the hell ya done got off to?"

The man was less than a dozen feet in front of me, his back to me. As I rose from my crouch Willow, at my side, did the same. Together we rushed him. He must have heard our boots when we crossed onto the flagstones because he started to turn. Behind him, I saw Liam jump to his feet and fly toward the man's back.

Willow's blade hit him first, passing through his gut on the left. My short sword pierced his chest on the right, but hit bone and stuck. From behind him, only seconds after my strike, Liam drove his short thin-bladed sword and then his heavier dagger into the man's back.

The bandit named Fynn died while still standing on his feet. His expression was one of surprise and puzzlement as the light left his eyes. Willow and Liam managed to pull their blades free as the big man collapsed, but my sword was stuck tight and was pulled from my hand as the body fell.

Rowan and Vallejo moved out and joined us in looking down at the dead men.

The bald mage ran an angry hand over his head. "Damn it, Liam, what were you thinking? These two are going to be missed."

The rogue shook his head. "Not for a few hours yet. By then we will either be gone or their friends will know we're here anyway. Besides, this way we've two less of them to have to kill. Here, I'll give you a hand."

Between us, we rolled the dead man over and I wiggled my blade side to side till it finally came free of the rib bones it was wedged between.

Willow swore but then shrugged. "Let's drag the bodies out and drop them in the moat. All those hungry frogs will make short work of them." She knelt down and caught the dead bandit by his shoulders.

"Good idea." Liam turned and grabbed the feet. "But carry them, not drag. We shouldn't leave any evidence behind."

I looked down at the bloody pools by my feet. "A little late for that, Liam."

With a grunt, he and Willow hoisted the bandit up off the stones. Liam grinned at me as he carried the man out the moathouse door."Nah, I can deal with the blood. Hiding a blood stain is an old school skill where I've from. Hell, some toddlers learn it at their mother's tit."

There was a splash outside and the two came back in. Willow and I took the other man and let this dead fellow go night swimming with his friend. As I looked across the moat I could already see large frogs slithering into the muck seeking the blood they must smell.

I felt suddenly sick.

Willow's hand came to rest on my shoulder. There was no need for words, we both understood. Sure both of us had taken a life before, but it had always been in the heat of a battle. This felt different.

Dirty somehow.

Two men were dead ... over wine. And the sick part of it was how they had died. They had never even stood a chance to defend themselves.

"Come on." She gave my shoulder a strong squeeze. "Let's finish this and get back to that inn."

Taking a long deep breath, I nodded, then let it out in a slow sigh. Walking back into the courtyard, I saw that, true to his word, Liam had taken care of the blood. There were -- well, my trained ranger's eyes at least -- some tell-tell signs of a disturbance of the ground, but the night and dampness were quickly covering that up too.

"Here, Kyle, these are both pretty good quality." Liam held out the long sword and the crossbow, along with a small leather quiver of bolts.

"You don't want them?" I asked, not making any move to take them.

"Nope. I don't use long blades and I'm pure shite with bows of any type." He grinned. "Besides, I got my cut when I searched their bodies." Liam bounced a small bag in his hand. "A bit of coin... " He shot a quick look to the mage and cleric " ...to split up later, right?"

"Right," said Rowan standing not far from him. She was double checking the healed wound on Vallejo's side.

Reluctantly, I took the dead men's weapons. The sword needed a scabbard. I'm sure the dead bandit had one for it somewhere, but he hadn't been wearing one. I hooked the small bolt filled quiver to my belt and looked over the crossbow. It was a little dirty and shopworn but, as Liam had said, it was of decent quality. It had a boot stirrup and -- using that aid -- it still required a strong pull to cock the bow. I knew from that fact that this was a truly lethal weapon, despite its smallish size.

"You said you know where the wine is?" I asked.

Liam nodded. "Well, I know where their party is happening; the wine should be there."

I gestured with the crossbow. "Lead the way."

The moon was fully risen above us by now and that pale light illuminated the courtyard well enough. Still, I was glad of our torch. Even if I did want it to be behind me so my night vision wasn't ruined, it chased the shadows back into corners where they belonged and there was smoothing just plain eerie about this place.

Up the ruined stairs, and into the great hall. I could see that, at one time, it must have been an incredibly well-appointed chamber. There were the ragged remains of old tapestries, broken furniture, and rusted hulks that might have been highly decorative suits of armor displayed on wooden stands -- now long rotted away. I saw a trail across the floor that show dozens if not hundreds of passages of muddy feet. The door they passed through was, unlike the rest of the place, pretty secure looking. It had been repaired, and the hinges showed signs of oil.

Liam led us up to the door, but the guidance wasn't needed. The sounds of a roaring drunken party were well underway beyond. Drunken laughter and boasting cries were often and frequent. There was also the sound of poorly played music, and as a group, the bandits would drunkenly croak out bawdry song lyrics.

With a handheld up to tell us to hold in place, Liam took a hold of the door and eased it open an inch. He used a small mirror from his belt pouch to look with. Moving it side to side I saw his expression change by the second. He slowly shut the door and gestured us back. Back, back, and back he motioned us till we had crossed the hall.

"There must be more than twenty of them. Maybe thirty." He gave a helpless shrug. "All drunk, all armed, and still far too awake and invigorated for any type of sneaking about to get us near that wine. They are perched around it like a hen on her eggs."

"It?" Rowan gave him a quick look. "As in one?"

Liam paused. Slowly a smile began to appear. "Yeah, I only saw the one barrel. The one they were dipping mugs into."

Vallejo nodded. "Their leader is a man of some wisdom. He knew his people, in their cups, would drink all that was put before them, so he probably locked the rest up somewhere."

"Yeah, but where?" asked Willow.

We looked at each other for a few moments then each gave a tiny shrug.

Rowan claps her holy symbol, praying for guidance.

Vallejo palm washed his bald head and tugged at his dark beard.

Willow flexed her fingers around her sword's hilt.

I fiddled with my lucky coin on its necklace.

And the rogue Liam ... Liam?

Turning, I glanced around and saw the shadowy form of our thief moving back toward the doorway. I must have given a jaw-on-the-floor look because everyone turned. We were halfway back across the great hall when he vanished inside the doorway and closed it behind him.

"What is that fool doing?" asked Rowan, running in a chainmail jingling clank.

Vallejo picked up the dirty, wet, ragged hem of his dark robes and all but sprinted beside us. "Something crazy, I'm sure."

We all froze in place when the door suddenly opened right in front of us. Liam came walking out with his arm thrown over the shoulder of another man. They were both swaying and lurching side to side with each step. Seeing us Liam waved us to the side with his off hand and -- simultaneously -- tripped the man. He made like he was trying to catch the fellow, but he was, in fact, driving the man's head down so that the bandit wouldn't see us scrambling to find improvised hiding places.

Liam mouthed the word follow at us then helped the man back up. Ostensibly facing him away from us at the same time. "Easy there my friend. The floor is a bit slick here with frog bile."

"Nasty buggers those damn stinkin' ... belch' ... stinkin' frogs."

"True, so true." Liam nodded agreement, glancing once back over his shoulder to make sure we were following.

"Are you sure there is more wine?" asked the drunken bandit.

"Oh, yes. I mean we toted in three barrels, right? From the wagon?" Liam guided the stumbling man across the hall. "There was three I'm sure."

"Yeah, there were. I had the handle of one of those big wine tubs." He stopped swaying in place. "Jackson was carrying that smaller barrel here all by himself." The man gave a thick wet belch. "Had it on his shoulder he did. But you remember, you were there. Right?"

Liam nodded an agreement. "Oh yes. I was at the back with one of those smelly torches."

The man nodded, then reached up and patted Liam on the cheek. "Ya, poor fellow. Stinking with fishy lamp oil and having frogs trying to nip at your heels, huh?

"Oh, yes. The whole way."

"Yep. I used to do that job, long ago." He gave a drunken cackle. "Then I dropped the torch in the bog one night and they never let me do that after that." He swerved in place and looked Liam in the eye. "Not that you should get any ideas to do the same. True it got me out of torch duty but we could have all been killed if Jackson hadn't fought them frogs back till we got another torch lit."

"Never crossed my mind."

"Good. Good. See that ... it doesn't. Now... " He belched loudly. "The wine?"

Jackson must have put it into his room."

"Yes! We carried one of those barrels up there... " The guy lurched over to a wrecked pillar and began to fumble at his waist. " ...before we started drinking."

Hot reeking piss struck the mossy stone and the man gave a deep sigh of pleasure.

"And Jackson's room is at the bottom of these stairs?"

"Yeah, right down there and around the corner." The guy swayed in place trying to keep the piss stream straight. "He's too uppity to bed down near the rest of us. Wanted a room all to his self, he did." The drunk slowly stood up a bit straighter and a puzzled look crossed his face. "But wait a minute now, how come -- "

Liam clobbered the man across the back of the head with the fat round steel pommel of his dagger. The fellow dropped like a stone, falling into a pool of his own urine.

We rushed up to join our thief.

Liam was looking down at the man he had just put to sleep, there was an odd look on his face.

"He's a decent enough sort of fella. Loyal to his fellow cutthroats. But his cup was empty." He gave a shrug, then nodded toward the stairs with his chin. "Their big boss is this Jackson fella. Skilled fighter. Killer, but a bit nose in the air. Thinks himself better than these other guys because he's from some big city and they are all runaway serfs and chicken thieves. Come on."

Rowan and I exchanged a look. Then Willow and I did the same.

"You heard the man," said Vallejo behind us, giving me a poke in the back. "We've been living on borrow luck all night. Let's not push it."

Following Liam, we descended down worn steps below the level of the great hall floor. The walls showed great cracks and there was a trickle of slimy water weeping down one side. At the bottom were two doors, but one clearly led to a room that the floor above had collapsed into. Rock choked, the door had been forced out and off its hinges to lie twisted and bent at an odd angle.

The second door showed signs of use and repair.

Kneeling down Liam looked over the old lock. He gave a snort, opened the pouch at his side and took out a wooden block and a thick bronze lockpick. Holding the block against the door he began to worth the heavy tumbler.