Tidings of Trouble
Muscles burning from strain, Jordesh the Red prided the stone up and slide it over, exposing the hole into the tomb. The thief had found a manuscript that told that the Priest, entombed over ten centuries ago, had been buried with a relic he was interested in, the Axe of Meandos. Meandos had been a liche of terrible and dark power, who had reigned over a kingdom of the dead. He had slain thousands of people, only to resurrect them, and expand his kingdom with the bodies of innocents. Like a dark, pulsing cancer, the kingdom of Meandos pushed its borders further and further, until the entire world was almost slain. A warrior, whose name has been lost to time, snuck through Meandos's Palace of Corpses, and fought his way through hundreds of skeletons, zombies and ghouls, and slew Meandos with a magic axe, that, according to legend, stole Meandos's soul from his rotting, corpse body and imprisoned it forever, within the sapphire at the bottom of the axes haft. According to a legend, of course, a legend from thousands of years in the past. Even if the legend was half true, the axe would be worth a kingdom of his own.
Taking a piton from his pack, he stuck it in the thick, black ground around the hole. He carefully tied a silk rope through the hole in the piton and dropped the coil into the darkness of tomb. The rope was over one hundred feet long, and Jordesh thought almost every last foot wound out before he heard it hit the floor with a dim, slap sound. Then, he took a sunrod from his belt, smacked the golden tip on a rock to light the thing, and dropped it into the hole. The ball of light, centered on the sunrod, fell through the darkness of the tomb, to land with a crack near the end of the rope. What the sunrod illuminated was incredible.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of bones littered the ground, in a grotesque carpet of white. He could not be sure, but he thought he could see hundreds of rats crawling around the bones, in and out of skulls, sleeping in pelvic bones, chewing on femurs and arm bones. It was a terrible sight. Thousands of men had died here, for reasons he did not know, or care about. What he cared about was a gleam in the distance, the faint light of the sunrod reflecting off of some metal surface.
Joints creaking in his shoulders, Jordesh swung himself onto the ropes and began climbing down, into the field of bones below. After only twenty feet, his hands were burning and his arms ached. I'm getting to old for this, the thief thought. I must be at least fifty, he complained inside his head as he climbed. I should be sitting in front of a fire, my grandchildren circled around me, begging for one more story before bed. The square of light receded slowly, the thief descending hand over hand. A mad flutter of wings distracted him for a moment. His movement had awoken a flock of bats, the swarm flying past him, buffeting his leather armored body with their wings. One of the bats bit into his left hand, and he almost lost his grip throwing the thing off. The flock of bats flew off into the distance, and Jordesh resumed his climb.
He glanced down quickly, and saw he was about fifteen feet from the ground. He climbed down about ten more feet, and jumped the last distance, his hob-nailed boots striking the ground with the snapping of ancient bones and the squealing of rats. He flipped his rapier out and drew another sunrod from his belt and lit it with a crack. Down here, the stench of death and decay was a physical thing, and even though Jordesh had killed his share of people, it was still shocking at how powerful the smell was.
Kicking a rat off of his boot, he set off, towards the glint of light in the distance. Before he went a dozen paces, he was amazed at how large the tomb was. He could barely see the gargantuan walls in the distance, and the field of bones went on and on, like a cruel tribute to the long-dead Priest. He realized that the bones were not just human, but of other, fouler races, like orks, goblins, and other races. Here and there, the huge skull of a giant loomed and half rusted weapons and armor could be seen under some of the bones.
The glint in the distance was getting closer, but he could still not make out what it was. He had gone quite a distance, and probably would have gotten hopelessly lost down there, but he could see the glow of his first sunrod. A growl from his left caused him to spin, drop his sunrod and draw his hand-axe.
Another growl, closer this time, and the sound of sniffing. Jordesh was ready for whatever it was, his rapier had been enchanted by the wizard Ilith to burst into flames with every blow he struck, and his hand-axe drank hungrily from those wounded by it. Shambling from the beyond the sunrods sphere of light, came a group of ghouls, their faces drawn and hungry for the flesh of mortals. Ghouls were rumored to have once been men and women who tasted the flesh of the living, others believe anyone evil and practiced debauchery risked becoming a ghoul.
Snarling, Jordesh braced himself for their attack, mentally flipping through the few divine spells he had learned over the long years. He didn't have much, just stuff that made him quieter, or heal a light wound, nothing that would stop half a dozen ghouls! He was not worried about fighting the ghouls, but rather of paralysis their touch brought, or they fact they would start feeding before he was dead.
The ghouls were quite close, and their stench smacked into him like a fist, but he had fought ghouls before and was used to the smell of death that surrounded every one of the undead bastards.
Jordesh stabbed the first ghoul with his rapier and the ghoul howled as the blade burst into flame. The ghoul slumped back and the rapier slid out of its cauterized flesh. The smell of burned meat was in the air now. Spinning, he slashed his axe across the neck of the next ghoul, its thin and grey head falling to one side, to land with a thud on the ground. Another ghoul leapt at him, mouth wide and fangs gleaming wickedly. Bracing himself, Jordesh stabbed his rapier through the ghoul's mouth, down its gullet. The sword burst into flame inside the ghoul and the dead weight of the undead thing wrenched his rapier out of his hand. The last three ghouls attacked as one, bearing Jordesh down with their combined weight. With the snapping of dead bones, Jordesh hit the ground, the ghoul's rancid breath making him gasp for air. He couldn't swing axe, but he managed to draw a dapper from belt. He could feel the ghouls trying to bite him through his armor, but the magical leather stopped their attacks, for now. He stabbed the blade through the back of the first one a dozen times, the ghoul's brackish blood flowing on his stomach. He smashed his helmeted head on the other ghoul's nose, causing the undead creature to draw back and claw at his chest. He could swing his axe and slashed the third ghoul across the chest, while stabbing the last ghoul through the throat with his dagger.
Picking himself up, he wiped the ghoul's blood on his dagger off with a rag and tucked the weapon back into his belt. Bending over, he tried to pull his rapier out of the ghoul, but the blade was stuck fast. Gritting his teeth with the strain, he twisted the hilt and broke the suction. With a wet sound, the blade came in a welter of blood and bile. He had to dance aside to avoid spray.
He found his sunrod and continued on, more careful of his surroundings now. He fell forward suddenly; he found a set of steps. Shaking his head, Jordesh went up the short flight of steps, towards the glint. He could see that the light was coming out of a doorway, set into the wall of the tomb. He put his back against the wall and checked the inside of the room with a small mirror.
It was a long, narrow room, in the center stood a large sarcophagus, decorated with arcane symbols and decorations. The glint was coming from an average sized axe, stuck into the top of the sarcophagus, a precious stone set on the bottom of the hilt. All around the room, murals were carved, depicting something he could not make out with the mirror. Satisfied there was nothing in there that would attack him, he stepped through the doorway.
The murals on the walls depicted horrible scenes, of men being tortured and mutilated, of piles of dead, of an army of the undead, marching to war, of a city built from corpses, of a faceless liche that sat on a throne of skulls at the center of it, and a warrior, tall and muscular, armed with what looked like the very same axe struck into the sarcophagus, slaying the liche. Jordesh smiled to himself, this was the axe of Meandos, then. Grinning now, Jordesh stepped up on top of the sarcophagus and wrenched the axe free, marveling how sharp the blade still was. He jumped off the sarcophagus and glanced at the stone on the hilt. It was good sized stone, and a face jumped into focus on one of the faces of the stone, and then, jumped out of focus just as suddenly. Agony suddenly coursed through his body and spasms wracked him as he fell to the floor. Pain like he had never felt before gripped him and his back arched against the cold, stone floor.
Slowly, the body ceased to move, and the tomb was silent once again. He stood up and examined his face in the shiny blade of the axe. He had changed, once his face had been gaunt and skeletal, a shining example of lichedom, now, he had a tanned and strong face, with graying hair. Meandos smiled, reveling sharp, pointed teeth, this was not the first time he had a new body and, now, with a new body, he could rebuild his kingdom and a new reign of death would begin!
Finding something terrible
Kiph sunk a piton in between the stone blocks and loped his long climbing rope through the eye-hole. He threw the rope back over the ledge so his companions could climb up. They were breaking into Duke Hanggenburgs castle, to steal his vast store of gold and weapons and, maybe, kill the Duke. Whatever, who knows what mood would strike them. The first of his group hauled his chain-mailed body upon the ledge that Kiph was sitting on, his legs dangling over the edge. The warrior slumped over, his breathing stressed. Kasmar was his name, fighting his trade. He rolled over and sat next to Kiph.
"You skinny bastard, why did you pick the highest ledge to have us climb up to?" Kasmar managed to say between breaths, his long-sword scraping loudly on the stone as he spoke.
"Oh, just to piss you off,' Kiph retorted, 'and, maybe that none of the windows up here have bars on them, you stupid whore." Even with the smelly asshole sitting next to him, he enjoyed the view that the ledge afforded him. He could see for miles, the rolling, green countryside, the majestic mountains in the distance, and the vast, shimmering, Ashanti Sea. Closer, he could see almost every street of the city of Culden, the capital of Duke Hanggenburgs realm. Smiling to himself, he wondered if anyone down there could see them, it was a fanciful idea. They were on a large hill, surrounded by two hundred square acres of immaculately trimmed grass and shrubbery. Dozens of guards patrolled every acre, of every minute, of every day. It was a bitch to sneak through, especially with Kasmar cursing every minute. Seeing the sheer amount of grass, he thought of why they were there.
Duke Hanggenburg had been raising taxes to insane levels recently, and there were rumors of dark things going on in the castle, but Kiph didn't care about that, he cared about the sheer amount of money in there. That's why he had stolen several bags of holding from the local Wizards Guild. It would be a good haul.
The next member of the party threw herself onto the ledge, her scale-mailed breasts rising and falling with each breath. She was Jexi, a cleric of Olidammara, the god of rogues. Kiph had a thing for her, but she didn't know, or notice, Kiph didn't know. He had to draw his gaze from her graciously curved ass to look into her eyes and nod at her. She returned his nod with a tilt of her head.
"Crap, I didn't think we'd be climbing this high just to get in!" she exclaimed, her voice melodic and sensual at the same time. He shook his head to clear his thoughts; he couldn't let her interfere with the theft, no matter how attracted he was to her.
"No bars up here." Kasmar said gruffly, while kicking his feet in the open air. What a dumb-ass, Kiph thought, if we didn't need the muscle, he wouldn't be here.
"Right, right, but where are the damn windows?" Jexi responded, resting her helmed head on the wall.
"Look about ten feet above your head." Kiph called across to her, while pointing at the thick glass pane.
The last member of their bunch flopped onto the stone ledge, his breathing ragged and shallow.
"Took yah long enough, Kar." Kiph said harshly. The wizard was always getting on his nerves with his constant complaining.
"That is because I am a learned man, not some smart-ass thief. And do you think you chose a high enough spot? Wouldn't it have been easier to climb onto the roof?" Kar jived back, sitting next to Jexi, cradling his spell book in his shaking hands, his spear tied to his leg and still dangling off the ledge.
"Alright then, lets get this show on the road." Spoke Kiph, while jumping over Kasmar and Kar. Jexi stood and laced her hand to together for Kiph to stand on. The lanky thief placed his foot in her hands and stood on them, he could just barely reach the window. He took a glass-cutter from his tools and cut a hole in the window and reached his hand in, and felt around until he found the latch. He flipped the latch and pushed the window open. He pressed his other boot against the stone and used his hands to pull himself in. He landed awkwardly, head first, and slide a few feet on a carpet. Gritting his teeth, Kiph went back to the window and pulled in Jexi, but fell backwards from the weigh of her armor and she landed on him, their faces inches apart. She smiled.
"I'd like to get back like this when this job is done." She said in his ear, biting the lobe before standing back up and reaching through the window to help Kar through. Kiph quickly stood and tried to look nonchalant as he looked around room, but he just kept thinking, wow, she felt so good lying on top of him. Again, he chastised himself, he couldn't let his physical needs get in the way of the job, it was not professional. It was just a bedroom, with a four-poster bed in it, and tapestries decorating the wall. There was a small, jewelry box on a dresser in one corner.
Smiling, he crossed the room and tried to open the box. It was locked. He pulled a pick from the kit strapped to the inside of his arm and set to work on the lock. He heard Jexi pull Kasmar through the window. Closing his eyes, he listened to the pick in the lock, lining up the tumblers. With a click, the lock popped open, and he flipped open the box. There were some gold necklaces and rings and he stuffed everything he thought was worth something into one of the bags of holding.
"Lets get started then." He said, turning to face the others, who voiced their agreement.
Standing in front of the door, Kiph pulled out a throwing knife from his belt and slowly turned the handle until he felt the bolt open. Softly, he opened the door a crack and peered through. He could see two guardsmen standing, talking to each other. One had his back to Kiph and he couldn't see the others face, meaning the guard could not see him. He braced the door with his foot and pulled out another throwing knife. He pushed the door open, but the hinges creaked. Snarling as the guards turned towards the sound, he threw his knives, the perfectly thrown blades punching through each of the guard's sternums. With a pair of thumps and the jingling of armor, the guards fell to the floor. He drew a kukri and stepped out, scanning the other side of the hallway for guards. Nothing, just doors and turns in the corridor. He crossed quickly to the guards bodies and pulled his knives out, wiping them off on the guards. Kasmar was at his side, searching the bodies for anything. At first, nothing, then, Kasmar cut open one of the guard's pockets and pulled out a large key ring, laden with keys.
"Come on, we gotta get going.' Jexi hissed, she had a map of the castle out, Kiph had to kill a man to get it, but it was worth it. 'The map shows a storeroom two lefts and right from here, third door down. Got it, Kiph?" she said, smiling to him. His heart fluttered, but he tried to focus again.
Kiph set off first, checking around the first left with his pocket mirror. Damn it, he thought while sliding away from the corner. A troupe of six guards was patrolling down the hall, a man in flowing black robes at the fore, a claw-tipped staff clicking along as he walked.
Signing to the others what was coming down the hall, they slide into position for an ambush. Jexi stood in front of Kiph; she was closest to the side corridor. Next to Jexi stood Kasmar, his long-sword and heavy shield out. Beside Kiph stood Kar, his eyes glazed and hands whirling as he cast a shield spell over the four of them.
The wizard saw them first, his mouth opened in surprise and his eyes wide with fury. Kasmar swung his sword in a brutal arc, cutting through wizards head and right shoulder. Blood fountained from the wound and the wizard fell in a pool of gore. The two guards behind the wizard charged at Kasmar, since he was the only one they could see. Jexi took out the first one with a crashing blow from her mace, shattering the guards jaw and nose. He fell backwards, blood gushing from his face. The other guard swung an axe in a sideways blow that Kasmar took on his shield and Kasmar stabbed towards the guard's stomach with his sword, but the guard turned away the stab with a buckler. Kiph flipped out his other kukri and swung the heavy blades in a scissoring motion that took the guard's head off.
The next locked their shields to protect the two behind, who were drawing bows. That would end the job as fast as it started. Kar stepped out, his hands and voice forming the last parts of a spell. With a roar, the fire-ball streaked alarmingly close to Kiph and Kasmar and struck the guards in a burst of flame. The first two were killed instantly, their flesh boiled inside their armor. The last two just caught on fire, screaming pitifully until Jexi pulled out her crossbow and put bolts into the guards, ending their lives.
"Lets bloody move!" yelled Kasmar, his voice frantic. Storming down the hall, they took another left, running smack into two more guards. Kiph took the first down, stabbing his kukris into the guard's stomach. Kasmar cut down the second with one stroke of his sword. They took the right and counted down three doors.
The door was locked shut, with three large padlocks and a grim warning on the front that Kiph just ignored. He pulled another pick out, this one was special. A wizard had enchanted it and Kiph had never failed to open a lock with it. The first lock was easy, it was old and the tumblers lined up like toy soldiers. The next was harder, the tumblers were different sizes, and Kiph had to pull out a second, then a third pick, to open the lock. With a click, the lock snapped open. The third was harder. It was magically enchanted, and the tumblers kept changing as he tried to line them up. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he got the tumblers lined up before they could change. The lock opened with what seemed like reluctance. Kar grabbed his shoulder and hissed angrily at him, "Did you forget these?" The wizard jangled the keys in front of the thief's face.
Kiph shrugged sheepishly, "What can I say? I like picking locks." He pushed the wizard away and carefully checked the door for traps, but the wizard pushed him away again.
"I've got spells that take care of that." The wizard cast another spell and the wave of magic illuminated a trip-wire on the other side of the door.
"What spell do you have to disarm the trap, fucker?" Kiph snarled back, shoving the wizard out of the way. He drew a thin knife and a pair of tweezers from his kit and opened the door a crack, just enough to see the wire. He used the tweezers to hold the wire tight while he carefully cut it. The tweezers kept the wire from snapping back and setting off trap. Carefully again, he slowly relaxed the wire. Sighing in relief, he opened the door.
The storeroom lit up in his eyes like a fire. A golden fire. Shelves upon shelves had ornate weapons and armor, gold lay in drifts around the corners like dust. In the center of the room, was a chest, about the size of a coffin. He ignored the chest and handed the bags of holding out, grins all around, except for Kasmar, who backed into the room, his shield up, deflecting an arrow.
"They're coming!" He shouted as he slammed the door shut, just as a dozen more arrows thunked into the heavy wood. The big man grabbed the chest, and groaned as he tried to push in front of the door. Jexi also tried to push, her face red with the effort, but the chest refused to budge. Snarling, Kiph added his back to the task, and the three of them just barely managed to push the heavy chest in front of the door. The chest left deep marks in the stone.
With a thud, something from outside slammed into the door, then loud cursing. Kasmar sat on the chest and leaned his back against the door. Nothing would get in.
"Damn it!" snapped Kar, his teeth gritted and his eyes angry.
"What is it, you whiny bastard?" snapped Kiph
"Look at the damned window, you fucker!" the wizard retorted, his face red.
The window was tiny, even Kiph couldn't fit through, and bared. They were stuck there.
"We'll deal with that later. Just load up the bags!" yelled Kiph as another blow shook the door. Kiph got started, shoving a hand-full of gold into his bag with a jingling and clinking sound. He loved that sound. He shoved another, and another, until Jexi said something.
"Check this out.' In her hands she had a massive, two-handed war hammer, inlaid with runes and fairly glowing with magical energy. 'Kasmar, think you could bust a hole in the wall with this?"
"Hells yeah." The warrior sheathed his sword and slung his shield and took the war hammer from Jexi. He weighed it for a moment and then jumped back. The chest had been pushed partially open from the inside, a rotted hand peeking through.
"Fuck!" screamed Kar, as he stabbed his spear repeatedly into the chest.