An Unexpected Turn
The trip up to Castle Faldwell was a lot less eventful than the trip down. After a quick 3 days travel the two companions arrived at the castle and found a place to stay at the only inn, the Silver Flute. It was called that because almost every night the bard nick named Silver Flute would come and entertain the villagers.
Roland, having inquired before hand about the young bandit Eric The Nobody, as he called himself, was not too surprised to see him at the inn drinking with his friends. Before Roland could take 2 steps in the inn Eric and his buddies bolted for the back door. They swung it open just in time to see the towering Natiadar looking down at them with a smirk on his face. Instantly they dropped anything they had in their hands and backed up against the inn wall.
“Please Master Elf!” squirmed Eric, “we don’t want any trouble, we did just as Master Roland said. We stayed here in town and gathered some information for you. Please don’t do anything un-natural to us…”
“Then why don’t we go back inside and sit down at a table and have a nice chat. I’m in a good mood, drink swill be on me!” replied the Elf calmly.
“Yes that’s better… I like that… no magic… just some friendly conversation.” Eric smiled halfheartedly not sure what fate lay ahead of him.
All 5 bandits sat down around a table with Roland and Natiadar, and proceeded to explain what they had discovered. It seemed that this Droglen was a soldier who was under the service of Lord Isen himself. They don’t know why or how he came to becoming a mercenary, but he was a soldier before that, and quite a good one at that.
They also discovered from one of the maids at the castle that Lord Luther left the castle at night a few days ago and came back early the next morning looking exhausted. He was accompanied by councilor Cornelius.
Roland interrupted Eric at that moment, “Do you know where they went? Did they go there to meet with someone? Were you able to follow them?”
Eric replied, “Sorry we just learned this from Anita who works at the castle. She only noticed the Lord leaving because she was late cleaning the kitchen.”
“Hmm… I wonder if they will be going there again. When did you say this happened? And what direction did they leave?”
“They left 2 nights ago and came back yesterday morning.”
“Do you know of anyone who is good at tracking around here?”
“Eh… You could always try young Joram, he’s the new apprentice to the Master Ranger who works for Lord Faldwell.”
“Good, you’ll have to introduce us and I can take care of the rest. You’ve done well. Keep up the good work and stay out of trouble!”
The next day the two friends met with the young tracker named Joram. He was indeed quite young, being only 13 years old, but his skills as a tracker were growing fast, and he had gathered a bit of a reputation.
After having gathered a little more information on the nightly escapade of the Lord, Roland found out that they needed to search eastward. It wasn’t long before Joram found tracks leading into the eastern hills. The tracks led them to what seemed like an abandoned tower.
After close examination of the tower, Joram concluded that two riders came to the tower from Castle Faldwell and met another person here. There are no tracks indicating that the person they met here either came or left the place since his tracks, which are narrow and somewhat short don’t exit the premise of the tower. All three explorers seemed a little perplexed by this but didn’t have time to ponder as a large group of Orcs came stumbling into the tower.
At the head of the orc group stood a tall bugbear, who grinned at the sight of the three fellows, “Looks like we’s gots ourselves some lunch fellas!”
“Wait!” shouted Natiadar, “Beware of whom you challenge to combat! You may be 10, but your skills are of no match compared to the Elven magic of my ancestors! I suggest you find another abandoned tower to find refuge or hunt some beasts for your lunch.”
As he spoke the words came out of his mouth as a soothing lullaby, which caught the bugbear unaware. The bugbear looked at the wizard and smiled, “Da elfy ting is aright, hessa have a lot of power and there is plenty to hunt around.”
The orcs looked at the bugbear dumbfounded, but not wanting to incur the wrath of their leader, they chose to agree and vacate the premises.
Natiadar looked at his two companions, “Orcs, they never know what is good and what isn’t good for them. I suggest we not tarry too long, the charm pattern will eventually wear off and they are bound to come back for revenge.”
Roland and Joram looked as perplexed as the orcs. Joram’s mouth clenched shut and he spat, “I hate bugbears! I hate them with a passion!”
“Keep your pants on kiddo!” said Roland, you’ll get a chance to kill this bugbear I’m sure. But not right now. Right now I have to see if there is something here that we missed that could help explain the mysterious entrance and exit of our third party.”
Roland started searching this ground level of the tower to see if there were any secret passages or hidden trapdoor. It didn’t take long for him to notice a small protruding rock from the base of the spiral staircase that lead upstairs. After inspecting for potential traps he proceeded to push the stone the floor at the base of the spiral staircase dropped to form an extension to the stair leading into what would be a basement level.
“AHA! I knew it! Joram bring a torch so I can see a little better down here?”
“Eh… a torch? You never mentioned about a torch? Was I supposed to bring one? I thought I was going to do some tracking for a little bit, but this is a little more than I bargained for! You guys never mentioned about excursions into basements of dark towers. I don’t even know who lived here and what it was used for?”
“Well, this is just swell!” exclaimed Roland.
“Calm down Roland, let the young human alone. He did what he was paid to do, and he may leave if he wants. After all we don’t want him to get hurt while searching for some hidden treasure in this tower. Besides, I can help you with some light.”
“Treasure?” said Joram, “who said there was treasure in there? Certainly not me! Although it is kind of strange that no one would have discovered the basement of this place. I’ve seen this tower many times before while out hunting with Master Fedrick. Maybe I’ll stick around for a little longer.”
The elf smiled and moved up to the stairs, he let out a simple incantation as a small ball of light formed in his palm, like a tiny moon. He held his palm out and the ball began to float in midair following the mental orders of the wizard. The ball floated down the stairs slowly as Roland examined each step to make sure nothing strange was amiss.
He reached the bottom of the stairs unhindered, which meant that it was more than likely safe. The other 2 companions came down soon after following the dim light of the sphere. As the light shone out they could all see that this landing was but an entrance hall to some other place. In front of them stood a large stone door imbedded with silver letters. The writings were neither Human nor Elvish, but Natiadar had seen their kind before, in old spell books back in Falinesti. The language was draconic and the elf translated them for the humans.
“Every thing has its opposite,” said Natiadar softly.
“That’s it! All this fancy script for one short sentence!” scoffed Roland, “What is that supposed to mean anyway?”
“Exactly what it means, everything has its opposite! Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Well the opposite of a closed door is an open one, and since this door doesn’t seem to have a lock let’s find out.”
Roland moved up to the door and grabbed the doorknob. A jolt of electricity shot out of the knob into his hand sending him flat on his butt.
“OUCH! I hate magic traps! That’s cheating! Why can’t people just stick to mechanical traps!” Roland grasped his arm as he tried to regain his composure. The jolt had definitely left its mark on the rogue.
The Elf grabbed some ointment from his bag and gave it to Roland, “Rub this on your hand, it’ll help it feel better.”
As Roland rubbed the lotion on his hand, Natiadar moved up to the door to examine it. He spoke a soft word and his eyes began to glow with a light blue light.
“Hmm… I know this pattern. It’s a shocking grasp. But energy doesn’t really have an opposite…” he pause and thought for a little longer, “Ah… but that pattern follows the laws of transmutation, which are in direct opposition to conjuration and evocation! Let me see, I think I have something memorized that may be of some use…”
As he worded a new incantation the pattern in the room changed and formed a boulder sized ball of fire in front of the wizard. With a single gesture the elf forced the ball to roll towards the door. As the ball made contact with the door the ball exploded into nothingness and the door slowly opened without a sound.
Joram looked in amazement at the tall Elf, not knowing whether to run or satisfy his curiosity. Roland was starting to get used to the arcane of his Elven companion, but still gave a strange look to the wizard as he got up to examine the entrance.
Natiadar mentally guided the sphere of light past the entrance as Roland stepped up to peer inside. Joram stood back but decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay and find out what was inside this place. He did remember noticing something strange that he decided to bring up to the others attention.
“Just so you know, before Master Natiadar worked his dweomer on the door, I did notice that the floor was quite dusty and there were definitely no signs of footsteps. You know what this means don’t you?”
Roland and Natiadar stopped for a second…
Roland looked at Joram, then at the elf, “That can only mean that our third fellow somehow grew wings and flew in and out of this place.”
Natiadar interjected, “It is not unheard of. In fact there is another possibility. My mother is a powerful wizard amongst the Elves of Falinesti and she has been known to affect the Pattern in such a way as to teleport herself.”
“Fancy words my Elf friend, but what exactly are you meaning by Pattern and Teleport?”
“The Pattern is the construct that our entire world exists in. It is what us, Wizards, alter to create our own patterns. As for Teleportation it is a means of instantaneous transportation from point A to point B. You disappear from A and reappear in B a split second later”
“Goodness! And you can do this?”
“Nay! You have to be a powerful Wizard indeed to be able to accomplish such a feat. I am but a babe amongst Elven Wizards. After all I am only 156 years old.”
“Alright! That’s enough! I don’t want to hear any more about this. It’s starting to make me feel either very uneasy, or very insignificant. And either feeling is not pleasant, so let’s move on shall we?”
Roland turned back to the entrance and started forward. Joram, on the other hand, looked at the Elf in total amazement. What fear had existed in his mind had finally subsided and he stood in awe wondering what other stories Natiadar may have to share with him.
“Master Natiadar, are all Elves as old as you are?”
Natiadar turned towards the young ranger, “Not so, some Elves are older than you can possibly imagine. But we Elves count time differently as you mortals do. Maybe I will explain more to you about our people some day, but let us not leave Roland to explore alone.”
They both turned and followed behind the rogue.
As they passed the threshold of the door a musty smell assaulted their noses. This place must have been closed for quite a long time, thought Roland. The glowing sphere illuminated what seemed like a large laboratory. A large rectangular marble table stood in the center of the room. It was still covered with an assortment of tubes, and burners, and vials, and jars, and beakers, some empty some filled. The shelves along the west wall were filled with all sorts of books while the shelves on the eastern wall had more jars containing all sorts of components.
Opposite the entrance was another door, this one simply made out of reinforced wood.
Roland walked toward the table with an unsure step and started inspecting the vials searching for anything useful, while Natiadar and Joram stepped towards the west wall to examine some of the books.
Natiadar read out loud, “‘The anatomy of Elves’, by J.S. Laslan, ‘Conserving human parts’, by M. K. Sallack, ‘Exploring the afterlife’, by T.H. Wurdan. These are all books connected to the black art! The last owner of this tower must have been a necromancer of some sort. Roland! Be careful what you touch! There could be curses laying on some of the items.”
Roland stiffened, and immediately dropped a vial he had picked up. As it shattered on the floor a hissing sound came from the ground as the concoction bubbled and fizzled.
“Eh… Nat, why is it hissing?”
The wizard turned around instantly at the sound, “Oh oh… this could be bad.”
As he said that smoke started to fill the room.
“Roland, draw your sword! Joram get out of here, NOW!”
The young ranger didn’t need the order repeated. He bolted for the room as he drew his hunting knife out of its sheath. His hunting bow would be of no use in such a confined area.
As the smoke filled the room, the sound of Natiadar’s incantations could be heard, and a faint glow of his magical shield appeared in front of him. His staff started to glow with a faint blue light empowered by the Elven magic.
Chaos erupted.
A shadow appeared in the midst of the smoke. The shadow grew as the smoke receded. It grew so as to encompass almost the entire room. Even the magical sphere created by Natiadar winked out as the shadow swallowed it. The Elf cursed inwardly wondering what could dissipate his magic.
“I can’t see a thing!” shouted Joram.
In the midst of the darkness a low muffled growl sounded.
“Oh oh…” was all that Joram could say before whatever lied in the darkness attacked him.
The young ranger lifted him dagger in defense of whatever was coming, but whatever it was that was attacking him was stronger and faster than him. The sound of breaking bones accompanied by the furious growl was quickly followed by Joram’s shrieking.
Joram fell stunned and battered under the shear weight of his assailant. He barely clung to consciousness as he discerned two large red glowing eyes staring at him from the darkness.
Roland shouted, “Light! I need light! Come here you bastard! Stop attacking those weaker than you!”
The shadow shifted.
Natiadar plunged into the darkness his staff raised, stretching his senses to attempt to locate his foe. He brought his staff down in a wide diagonal sweet covering as much space as possible. His strategy paid off as his staff contacted something hard. A small crack and a yelp could be heard as the staff connected with its intended target.
Roland used this opportunity to jump out from his spot, and thrust his rapier at the shadow. The rapier bit flesh and penetrated deep. A horrendous shriek of pain sounded from the shadow as the darkness intensified.
Roland lifted his mace in a defensive manner, not knowing if he would be the next target of an attack. He felt the hot breath of his opponent an instant too late, and stared in amazement at the red glowing eye as his attacker bit his leg. Pain coursed from his leg into his whole body as he tried to keep a scream in.
Natiadar started chanting and with a stretched out hand let out bolts of energy loose. The bolts found their mark and struck causing the shadow to shift again.
Roland regained his composure and used both weapons to try and strike his opponent down. Both swings missed their marks.
Natiadar brought his magical shield around to cover as much of his front as possible. Unfortunately his opponent must have detected the change for it came from the side and bit into the Elf.
With little time to consider, Natiadar stretched his hand out at his opponent and touched what seemed like soft fur. With a word from his mouth energy rippled through his arm and was released at the beast, singeing the fur in the process.
With what seemed like a final howl, the shadow dissipated, leaving a the smoking remains of what looked like a very large black dog.
The Elf immediately searched for any more threats and relaxed seeing Roland still standing.
“Roland, are you ok?”
“I’ve had worse, but I guess I’ll live.”
Then he remembered the young human and rushed to the door. He noticed blood spats on the ground and swallowed hard. He looked searched around and noticed under the stairs a pair of feet. His heart sunk…
“Joram!” was all he could squeeze out of his tightened throat.
He checked the ranger for a pulse and noticed there was still one, and he took a deep breath of relief. He looked at the wound and lacerations made by the bite marks on the young man’s chest and applied one of his ointments on it. The healing herbs in the lotion seemed to take effect and Joram opened his eyes.
“What happened? All I remember are two red glowing eyes and lots of pain in my chest, then my head started spinning and everything went black.
“Can you get up?” asked the Elf.
“I think I can.”
“Then come and see what attacked you.”
“Elf! Elf! Come here quick!” yelled Roland.
“What is it?”
As Joram and Natiadar re-entered the room, they noticed on the ground the shape of the black beast slowly fading away into nothingness.
“Strange… the only pattern I can think of that would replicate such a thing is a summoning pattern. Come to think about it, the smoke at the beginning seems to corroborate this. The only perplexing thing is that if this was a potion of summoning it would only have worked if swallowed by someone, and the person making the swallowing would have had total control over the beast. There must be something about this lab that may have altered this. Or maybe it is just a protection spell cast on the potion itself. Who knows…?”
Roland looked at the Elf as perplexed as ever, “You mean to tell me that I am the one who brought upon this mess? Ok, fine, but what about you? Can you summon beasties like that? I mean I would much rather have them on our side than against us, if you catch my drift.”
“If my memory serves me right, the creature we fought is known as a Shadow Mastiff. These evil beasts roam the undergrounds of Elestar and cast a protective shadow around them; a shadow than can dissipate normal and magical light. It is this protection that makes them dangerous foes as they can see through the darkness while effectively blinding their opponents. We were lucky there was only one of them. More would have been catastrophic. I can create such summoning patterns, but nothing of this magnitude. The wizard who created this potion was much more powerful than I am. Plus, creatures summoned tend to depend on the person creating the pattern. Had I been forming this pattern I would not have summoned an evil beast such as this.”
“Ok ok! Enough with all this fancy talk, let’s get this finished with!”
“Do you seriously intend on continuing? We can’t take the young boy through this. It could be his death!”
“Well he’s a ranger! He knows his way home doesn’t he? He brought us here in the first place!”
“We are not going to leave this half dead child walk through the open moors with a band of Orcs roaming around. It’s more than a day’s walk back to Castle Faldwell, and he is certainly in no shape to ride.”
Joram interrupted the debate, “Ehem… I can ride, besides shouldn’t we all leave? I mean the band of Orcs lead by that bugbear are bound to return here to check out if there is anything to plunder, don’t you think?”
Natiadar stopped to think for a little while, “Well they may very well return, as the boy said, and then we’ll be in a heap of trouble.”
Roland became annoyed, “I am not leaving this place for Orcs to plunder! Come on… for all we know there is treasure waiting for us somewhere in this basement!”
“Always thinking about money are you? Can’t you just drop it! This is a Necromancer’s lab! Do you know what this means? Undead beings my friend; abominations that are neither living nor dead! How would you like to meet up with a couple Zombies or Walking dead? Personally I could pass on that experience.”
“Wait!” said Joram, “I noticed a lever at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe it resets the stairs, and no one would bother us for quite a while. We could get some rest and regain our strength, and maybe explore some more. I mean Master Roland is right, maybe there is a treasure to be found.”
“That’s right lad, exactly my kind of thinking!”
The Elf sighed in frustration, “Humans! They just never have the patience for anything! It’s not like we couldn’t seal the place back and come back and explore at later time, once all of us are healed back and better equipped for an underground expedition. Why are you being so rash?”
Roland retorted, “Because someone else could just as easily find this place and sack it before we get a chance. Plus, it’s not being rash, it’s being precautious. If there was a powerful artifact stored in here, you wouldn’t want it to fall in the hands of miscreants would you?”
“Fine, but let it be known that you have been warned! But before any more exploration of this compound you will both get some sound rest!”
“Now you are starting to sound like my mother…”
“I could still beat you to a bloody pulp with my staff, so don’t push your luck. Plus you would be dead if it weren’t for me. So get some rest, and have one of those to, and you have the other one. I shall go up and outside to make sure no one comes back during the night.”
Roland and Joram both took the potions Natiadar handed to him.
“Let’s hope these potions Father Tully gave us are as good as I hope.”
As they both swallowed the potions their wounds started to heal and their strength to come back. In what seemed little less than an instant Joram was back in full strength and ready to climb mountains, while Roland had but a few scratches left on his leg.
Natiadar applied his last ointment on his wound and proceeded up the stairs to inquire about any potential outside threats.
Roland winked at Joram and pointed at the Laboratory, “He said no further exploration, but it doesn’t mean we can’t look around the lab for anything interesting. Sometimes, these crazy wizards like to have secret compartments or passages in which they like to hide away their secrets. Shall we?”
Joram looked up the stairs with doubt showing on his face, “But Master Natiadar said…”
“Oh enough with what he said, we aren’t doing anything wrong, or dangerous, just a little inspection!”
“Oh, well if you put it like that, why not.”
“Ok, good! The key here is to test every aspect of the room; wood plank by wood plank, rock by rock, shelf by shelf, floor, ceiling and walls. If you find anything unusual or out of the ordinary, don’t touch it! Simply call me and point the anomaly to me, ok?”
“Ok.”
They proceeded in their meticulous inspection. It wasn’t long until Roland found what he was looking for. Against the west wall, he noticed one of the tiles on the floor seemed to not be fixed like the others. He applied some weight with his foot and noticed the tile depressed a little. He removed his foot carefully without pressing the whole way, not wanting to release any potential traps. He turned around and perused the room searching for something.
“Hmm… I knew I should have grabbed a long rod. Hey kiddo! May I borrow that bow of yours for just a second?”
Joram approached with an inquisitive look, “What is it Master Roland? Did you find anything?”
“Not sure, but I’ll need your bow for a little experiment.”
Joram handed the bow to the rogue who proceeded to use it to press down the loose tile. As he did the sound of mechanical grinding could be heard and a section of the wall opened up.
“Kiddo, bring one of those torches hanging from the wall.”
Joram handed him the torch and Roland threw it pass the opening. As it landed, it illuminated the small room around it. This small storage room held what seemed like a small treasure trove. Hanging from a stand was a set of full plate of armor. Although slightly worn it still looked in very decent shape. Resting in a corner was a finely crafted long bow, with what looked like silver threads engraved on it creating a beautiful weaving pattern along the entire length of the bow. A shelf on the right hand side had a leather bound book resting on it with a small box on top of it. And there were two chests resting on the ground opposite from the entrance.
“Wow!” exclaimed Joram “Look at the suit! I’ve never seen one up this close other then when they have big ceremonies at the Castle!” as he pointed at the full plate hanging resting on its stand. He took a step forward, but was immediately stopped by Roland.
“Now lets not be hasty my young friend. This is exactly how people die. Why don’t we examine the entrance a little more before running in for the loot?”
Roland set down to examine the floor and the walls surrounding the secret entrance, and didn’t seem to find anything suspicious.
“Hmm… There doesn’t seem to be anything that would resemble a trap, but let’s not jump to conclusions…”
He took a step forward with precaution… as soon as he passed the threshold a panel on the left wall opened and three arrows shot out. Roland dove forward trying to avoid the flight, but could only dodge two. The third arrow lodged itself in his left shoulder.
He stood back up and looked at the arrow. It had pierced his leather shoulder-pad and bit into the skin, but his fine armor had taken the brunt of the damage.
After removing the armor he looked at the wall where the arrows had come from and it seemed as though no panel existed.
“No wonder I couldn’t find this. This trap is finely crafted, and it seems it may have rearmed itself. I wouldn’t come here if I were you. I’ll just toss you the contents of the room. You just stand here ok?”
“Sounds fine by me…” Jarom smiled. Somehow he knew that long bow was better than his hunting bow and was already dreaming of using it to hunt some wild boar. Maybe they would let him have it, just maybe…
After handing everything but the chests over to Joram Roland proceeded to inspecting the chests. None of them seemed trapped, but they were definitely locked. He pulled out his tools and proceeded to go to work on the locks. Both locks showed little resistance and as Roland opened the first he noticed it was filled with coins of all sorts. He also found a small pearl, an amethyst and a moonstone, which he immediately pocketed for later uses.
As he opened the second one he discovered it held various fine pieces of clothing and a small box, which contained six vials. He took the box and handed it to Joram carefully and tossed the clothes back into the lab. He also stuffed all the coins in his pack before closing the chests.
Finally satisfied with his plundering Roland jumped back into the lab and began to make an inventory.
“You can keep the bow. Maybe it’ll be of some use to you when you grow up. The plate we can tie up to a horse; same for the clothes. Make a nice bundle of them. Let me see that small box. Hmm, nice ring! I think I’ll keep that one. The book you can give to the wizard. He can add that to his current collection, but wait what’s that? It’s no book marker! It looks like a wand of some sort. Bah, leave the to the elf too. I don’t understand the engraving on it anyway. We’ll need our Elven friend to examine those vials. Who knows what they are or what they do. Well, that was good wasn’t it! And all I got from it was a small little scratch on the shoulder. See I told you inspection could lead to some treasure. But nobody believed me.”
“I believed you, it’s just I don’t want to anger Master Natiadar.”
“What Nat, he’ll be fine. Wait until he sees that book you’re holding. He’ll forget we even did anything wrong.”
They spent the night peacefully underground and were woken up in the morning by an angry looking Elf.
“What did I tell you Roland?”
“Eh, me? What? Nothing, I didn’t do nothing!”
“And that secret passage in the lab, and the arrows on the ground. Did I not tell you not to put the kid at risk again?”
“Nonsense! You said not to explore the rest of the compound any deeper, which we didn’t do. The door across from the lab is still locked safely. You never said we couldn’t inspect the lab again, plus look at what the kid found for ya. Stop complaining all the time and be happy for once.”
Joram got up and handed the Elf the book with the wand in it.
“You humans are just so stubborn sometimes. Anyway, I’m glad you are all ok. Did you get any decent rest at least?”
“Well, we did get some sleep, but you could have let us sleep a little longer you know.”
“Nonsense! The sun has already risen, and luckily the Orc band hasn’t returned to pester us. Let’s finish our little exploration and be off.”
They got up and walked back into the lab. Roland pulled his tools again and went to work on the wooden door at the other end of the room.
“Argh! This lock is tougher than I thought. I don’t know how long it will take to unlock. I may not have the proper tools for this kind of job.”
Natiadar nodded and stepped up to the door, “Step away, I have a better way of handling this.”
He laid his hand on the lock and started an incantation. As he reworked the Pattern his hand started to glow bright red. They all heard a clicking sound emanating from the door and the wizard removed his hand from the lock.
“Now try to open the door.”
Roland opened the now unlocked door, “Neat little trick of yours there! You should teach me that some day.”
“I doubt you would understand what is involved in creating patterns, but maybe someday if you have a lot of free time I can try to explain to you the intricacies of Magic.”
They proceeded into the next room with precaution. Natiadar had conjured another sphere of light to precede them. As the light illuminated the room, the details came to life. A corridor of torch brackets lead to a large stone altar in the center of the room. A pulpit stood in front of the Altar and next to it a small table with all sorts of chirurgical utensils. The altar seemed covered in dry blood. The room held a sense of foreboding as the smell of formaldehyde permeated the room. Behind the altar rested a huge aquarium filled with the remains of multiple humanoids. Some of the corpses looked badly decomposed, while some of them looked perfectly preserved within the liquid.
All three stood in horror at the sight in front of them. Joram turned his head and threw up repulsed by the stench of the room.
Roland and Natiadar swallowed hard and the Elf turned to his companion, “We should not have come here. This place is unholy and a desecration to anything that lives.”
As these words escaped from his mouth a moaning sound came from both far corners of the room. The light didn’t extend that far, but Joram didn’t wait to see where the sound originated from, he turned and ran back into the lab.
Natiadar’s magical shield sprung to life, as Roland pulled both rapier and mace from his side and prepared to fight.
From each corners two decrepit corpses moved towards the two companions, somehow attracted by the sense of living flesh.
“Great! Zombies! It was to be expected, coming from a Necromancer’s lab. Use your mace to attack, your rapier is of little use.”
Natiadar spoke a word of power and his staff began to glowing again, pulsating under the magic endowed to it.
Roland tightened his grip on his mace and swung carefully at one of the incoming Zombies. The mace made contact with the Zombie and crushed some bones. Somehow this did not seem to slow the Zombie down much. It clawed at the rogue, but the rogue daftly dodged out of the way. A second Zombie clawed at him and got under his guard. Luckily the wound was superficial.
Natiadar brought his staff down square onto one of the zombie’s head crushing the skull in the process. The zombie did not slow down either, and attacked the Elf, but slammed his hand on the magic shield erected. The second Zombie attacking the wizard was simply to slow to attack.
Roland swept across the head of the zombie he had already attacked and the monsters head came clear off. That seemed to do the trick as the remaining part of the body dropped in a heap of flesh and bones. The other zombie attacked the rogue again, but this time Roland had his rapier up and ready and parried the blow easily.
Natiadar followed the example set by Roland and used his staff to sweep the head off one of the Zombies with a mighty swing of both hands.
Roland swung relentlessly at his second zombie only managing to get a glancing blow, while the zombie slowly clawed at nothing. The battle between the two raged on for a few exchanges, and Roland was getting tired his movements were getting sluggish, but the monster would not slow. Gradually the zombie started hitting him here and there.
During that time Natiadar, took a few great swings with the magically enhanced staff and got the best of his second Zombie. He then spun around and spoke word of power. The Magic missiles struck the zombie fighting Roland and the monster dropped to the ground motionless.
Roland nodded to the Elf, “Thank you kindly. These things never seem to get tired do they?”
“No they don’t, and they aren’t easily killed either. This place is cursed. We should leave immediately.”
“You know what, for once, I think I’ll have no problem agreeing with you.” Said Roland as he limped out of the room, holding his side.
“You never seize to amaze me Elf! Somehow you always seem to get away with all but a scratch.”
“Don’t be so sure. That Shadow Mastiff took a chunk out of me too. Luckily we bested it before it could do any more damage.”
Both companion returned to the surface where Joram waited with the horses.
“What happened? You told me to leave so I left. Is Master Roland ok?”
“I’ll be alright kiddo, just help me onto the horse.”
The three companions mounted on their horse and swiftly returned to Castle Faldwell.
As they arrived back at the Castle, Joram left the two to return and report, still holding his prized long bow. He had promised Roland not to tell anyone how he had found the bow. Roland told him that if anyone should ask, it was a gift for helping him and the Elf out.
Roland and Natiadar went back to the Silver Flute Inn to get a good night’s rest and pursue their inquiry.
As they sat at a table sipping on fresh drinks Roland pondered out loud, “I wonder who it was the Lord and the Councilor went to meet. There’s something really fishy about this. If you don’t mind me, I may go investigate in the Castle for the next few days.”
Natiadar looked at his companion and sighed, “Do what you must. I need some time to rest and read. All this is happening a little too fast for my liking. I will be in my room for the next few days.”
Roland shrugged, “Suit yourself. I don’t think we have time for pondering like you say. I’m a man of action, and actions I shall take. I’ll make sure to inform you of anything strange I find. After all, we are in this together now.”
Roland finished his ale and headed to bed. Natiadar did likewise but he wouldn’t be sleeping. He had to see what secrets were held in this book Roland had found, and this wand, what of it…
