The Dark Fellowship

The Hatori Graveyard

Chapter 3

The impersonator of city guardsman Hassan followed the cloaked 'Lady' J'Hem'Stoan through a labyrinth of alleyways, then down an innocuous opening to the city sewer. Her path led to what looked like a ordinary facet of earthen wall. A scaled hand touched three different spots on the wall, then a section of it about three feet wide slid away from her and to the side.

J'Hem'Stoan turned to address the guardsman, "The chapel is dangerous for nonbelievers. Stand guard outside until I have further use for you." The false guardsman's eyes showed a flash of anger, but he nodded and silently obeyed.

Lady J'Hem'Stoan strode reverently into a chapel dedicated to the dragon goddess Tiamat- and by the very nature of the being it honoured, had to be built and tended in secret. Though she was a trained mage instead of a true cleric, her servitude to one of Tiamat's children entitled J'Hem'Stoan to both lodgings in and the resources of the temple. Being the dark of night he chapel's 'parish' had gathered for mass, the Lady made the appropriate signs of devotion before going to the cell she temporarily called home.

J'Hem'Stoan lowered her cloak's hood, revealing a humanoid form but with a hide of small blue scales, slightly brighter than the robe she removed and the face of a great wyrm. Holding a stone chiselled to show a dragon's face she knelt down in the centre of a circle of coloured sand on the room floor, where she cast her sending spell aimed at the stone's match in her master's hoard.

"I have found the map's thieves, the location of the hatori graveyard will soon be yours," J'Hem'Stoan broadcast. In truth she had yet to scry for their whereabouts but to her mind that task was a forgone conclusion and at the moment appeasing her master seemed the higher priority.

"Do not fail me again, little hatchling," the master replied using his patronizing nickname for his dragonborn wizardess, "Lest I take matters in hand myself."

Deep in the desert. The moon bathed the arid sands with light, revealing the animals that emerged after dusk rather than dehydrate in the burning sun, including three that had hidden from the sun in a tent. Shoutanei spoke the right command word revealed to him by the Identify spell, and the stolen decanter brought forth life-giving liquid for him and his two accomplices.

Kezreck gulped his share down grimacing afterwards. The first time he drank from the decanter he voiced his sentiment that proper drink for a grown bugbear was ale or liquor, something with bite. That statement led to a discussion about the caravan he attacked alongside his brothers, though caravan might be an exaggeration; as it consisted of only one wagon transporting barrels of a fine whiskey imported from a remote country far up north, presumably by one of Balaiassi's wealthy elite.

"We'd been shadowing the wagon for days," Kezreck told them, "We knew their habits, their weaknesses. When we made our move they never saw it coming.

"My javelin went through the one guarding the driver, a dwarf in plate mail armed with a heavy crossbow- and struck the driver as well. By the time any of them noticed my brothers had already cut down two of the others and cornered the last, a human stripling who could barely hold up his sword his hands were shaking so much. It wasn't until that gnome got involved that things went wrong."

"What gnome?" Garadon asked.

"He wasn't even part of the caravan, just some drifter who talked them into giving him a ride. When he realized the wagon was being attacked he started slapping two small drums that hung from his belt, singing something in a language I didn't recognize. Everything started to look hazy and my legs felt too weak to hold me up…

"The next thing I remember, my hands were bound and tied to the back of the wagon, with the human driving and the gnome aside. I looked behind me and saw the bodies of my brothers in the distance. When we reached the city I heard the human brag that he killed three bugbears single-handedly, to prove his claim he showed the guardsmen a necklace on which hung the left ears he cut off my brothers' heads."

Garadon reflected on this last part of the story, and mentioned what the gnome did sounded like tales he heard about some rare minstrels who could work a literal magic with their song. Kezreck said if that was what happened then the true blame for the deaths of his kin rested with the gnome.

"To die in battle is a risk we all accepted and prepared for, but to be rendered unable to fight back, to do anything other than stand there and wait to be run through- I never heard that runt's name, but I'll always remember his face."

The three drank their fill, folded and packed up their tent and moved on, heading in as much a straight line as possible toward the legendary Hatori graveyard- assuming the cloth map that guided them was accurate or even genuine- each had at least once wondered if this venture was really some sort of fool's errand.

As the humanoids moved they saw little other than seemingly endless stretch of dunes, the occasional snake, lizard or plant. All was quiet, even peaceful, yet it was not to last; as before them sounded the eerie keening of a desert wind that carried flailing desert sands their way.

Covering their eyes with thick cloth the three huddled beneath the nearest dune, staying motionless until the winds above them turned silent, indicating the sandstorm had passed. They crawled out to see they had evaded one danger only to find themselves facing another.

Before them stood beings that resembled human males dressed similar to citizens of Balaiassi, yet all eight ranged between sixteen and eighteen feet in height. The giants seemed as surprised as the three's presence as the three were to see them; but the surprise quickly faded and the giants' expressions turned sinister. Their curved swords seemed to sing as they were drawn and the giants wielding them charged forward.

J'Hem'Stoan approached an acolyte of Tiamat's chapel requesting the use of an important piece of temple property to serve her master's will. The unsure acolyte relayed the request to a tenured cleric, who agreed and brought forth a scrying bowl forged from purest mithral, inlaid with rubies, emeralds and other fine gems. Though the one that sent J'Hem'Stoan on this task could have provided her with a focus from his hoard, greed and a suspicious mind conspired to keep him from trusting her not to run off with something of such value, despite repeated demonstrations of her loyalty in the past.

J'Hem'Stoan filled the bowl with water and rested it upon the floor. Bringing forth the stolen purse she retrieved from Shoutanei and Garadon's former lodgings she used it as her link to the elf and shape shifter to divine their location.

She located them far out in the deep desert, where no roads existed and no caravans went. The spell was limited to their general whereabouts, she could not see what they saw or what lay behind them. At first they were sedentary, and J'Hem'Stoan suspected they had chosen to rest during the day. But soon the thieves started to move, albeit slowly.

They stopped again, staying still for a period; when they finally began to move they suddenly turned in a different direction, and more quickly. Either they chose to or something, if not someone was forcing them to deviate and pick up speed.

J'Hem'Stoan decided she had to act swiftly, or the map may end up in the hands of others she had no way to track, if not destroyed altogether.

Hands bound behind them, Shoutanei, Kezreck and Garadon marched ahead, each with a giant's scimitar close to his throat.

A fourth desert giant braced on his shoulders a fifth, whose knee had been smashed in thanks to Kezreck's spiked mace. The bodies of the other three shrank from sight behind them.

Their captors brought the three to a pavilion of two tents, one smaller than the other; though from a distance or up high both would have appeared to be typical sand dunes. A short distance from both tents rested a cage made from strong steel; its lone occupant concealed under heavy cloth.

A ninth giant strode from the smaller tent; this one was female and carried no obvious weapons. She masked her face with a veil like the women of Balaiassi but the cloth seemed to have different meaning to desert giants than humans; in Balaiassi the veil was a symbol of subservience, yet the way the giants bent knee to this female she was obviously the leader of the group.

To Shoutanei this observation brought back unpleasant memories of the lash of Lolth's priestesses; for that he hated her already.

The giant who bore his injured comrade stepped closer to her and spoke, "Lady Vahnabi, these runts," Kezreck took particular offence to the insult, "Showed up out of nowhere. Though we were able to overwhelm them they killed Abiz, Mekmet and Hamir."

The giant leaning on his friend's shoulder pointed to his ruined knee, "The hairy one did this," he gasped.

Vahnabi reached for the giant's knee, "Poor Haldiin," she took a motherly tone, "The nasty goblin-kin hurt you so." Her other hand brought out what looked like a holy symbol, but of a deity that drow, bugbear or doppelganger alike failed to recognize; she chanted what sounded like a prayer, and suddenly Haldiin's bashed in knee was good as new, a little miracle that only contributed to Shoutanei's loathing.

The giant that had acted as Haldiin's crutch before took off and emptied the pack that held their prisoners' stolen possessions; these included enough rationed food for an extended trip in the desert, and the stolen magic decanter.

Vahnabi picked up the decanter, curious that one small bottle of water could have sustained the three of them this far out into the wastes. She chanted a different set of words, and suddenly her expression announced she knew the bottle's secrets.

'She is not merely a priestess but a magus as well,' Shoutanei seethed, 'This keeps getting better and better.'

The giant that dropped their belongings also produced their map from his belt, "They also had this."

Vahnabi took and studied the markings on the cloth, "A Hatori," she gasped at recognizing the beast's depiction; she turned to address her new prisoners, "Does this map lead to the legendary hatori graveyard? Is that what brought you out this far?"

Her only answer was three venomous stares. "Fine, hold your tongue," she spat dismissively, "It matters not, we shall see for ourselves. Lock them in the cage with our other guest, they should fetch a decent price somewhere, and store their things in the group chest. Haldiin will be sharing my tent today."

The four giants muttered sentiments about Haldiin always being her favourite but obeyed; when shoved into the cage Kezreck yelped in pain, as the rough treatment reopened a gash on his left thigh that had been inflicted by one of the giants in the skirmish.

At this point the cage's first prisoner stirred from its covers; before the three rose something that resembled a nearly six-foot mantis, standing on its lower two limbs, an extra set of smaller arms protruding beneath the limbs that extended from its shoulders.

Garadon and Kezreck regarded this being with curiosity, but Shoutanei backed up against the cage bars; in his academy days literature plundered from the world above described to him the warrior mantids known as thri-kreen, both of their appearance and their alleged taste for elf-flesh. He had no desire to find out if the inscetoid considered drow 'dark meat'.

Garadon however, sensing both Shoutanei's fear and the thri-kreen's intent calmed the elf down, "It's alright friend, the bug man does not plan to eat you."

Instead the creature approached Kezreck; stretching out a left arm, he said no audible prayer but the bleeding cut on the goblinoid's leg closed immediately. Motioning them to turn around, its mandibles cut their bonds.

Then the mantis 'spoke' to the three, though he did not voice any actual sounds but instead communed with them telepathically. He introduced himself as Path-Chak, and professed to be a priest of Nak'Cha'Dok, the little known patron of sentient insectoids. He told a story of how the desert giant bandits surprised his small clan as they fed on the body of a fallen camel. Vahnabi countered his magic with her own while his brethren fell from thrown spears. Path-Chak himself was taken prisoner, and would overhear Vahnabi talk of selling him to travelling shows or something she called a zoo.

All four agreed their mutual freedom, in all likelihood their mutual survival depended on cooperation against the desert giants. The question was how to proceed from here.

"I can hit the men's tent from with a cloud kill spell, I only need to say the words and make the gestures, but that won't help unless we get out of here." Not counting on being imprisoned by roving giants, the previous days he had prepared other spells in lieu of Knock or Rusting Grasp.

Kezreck turned to him to ask, "What about that shadow thing you called back at the water merchant's digs?"

"I can only attempt to summon a shadow demon once a day, and there's no guarantee one will answer. Even if one does, it could be the same fiend I called to hold back the water weirds while we made our escape."

Kezreck considered the last words, "You're right, I suppose it would be upset about us using it like that."

Something occurred to Garadon, it removed its right boot then, reaching inside and peeling back the cloth dug out a metal tube, "I'd forgotten I even had this, it's been that long."

Shoutanei saw the metal device, "What is it?"

"Part of a payment for a job I did for some wizard before ending up in that vault where you and I met. He called it a chime of opening, said I can use it to open locks by striking them with it. They're usually a foot long; he somehow shrunk the thing so I could conceal it better.

"Problem is, he said it breaks after ten uses and I've opened nine locks with it before now. I planned on keeping it in reserve for an emergency- then again I suppose this qualifies as much an emergency as any."

Garadon struck the bars with the chime, it cracked and the cage unlocked itself. Shoutanei began to cast the spell.

Within her pavilion an hour later Vahnabi dressed herself as did Haldiin, her preferred but by no means exclusive consort. She then picked up and scrutinized the cloth map, Haldiin looked at it as well.

"Even if it does lead to their burial ground," he started to ask, "Do you really think gems and treasure will be found in their guts? Seems to me they would have crapped out such things long before their time to die came."

Vahnabi pondered this, then answered, "Even so, there should be no harm in going to look. It's not as if we fear to die of thirst, not with the magic decanter those little people so generously donated." She chuckled at her own cruel joke.

Haldiin interrupted her laugh with words of alarm, "Wait- do you hear that?"

Vahnabi quieted and listened for a moment, "I hear nothing."

"Exactly," Haldiin answered, "Patala's snores can scare away a basilisk." He moved quickly to don his leather armour, Vahnabi had him drink a potion of Invulnerability to better his chances in danger, then cast Mage Armour upon herself.

Haldiin came out of the tent first, eyes open, sword held in one hand, in the other arm a giant-sized javelin ready to soar. The cage was left wide open, but neither the bars or the lock appeared damaged, its occupants nowhere in sight. He called out to his fellows, none of them answered.

Vahnabi saw her lover rush out to investigate the tent, counting the moments to see his return and hear his report. Soon she tired of waiting and bolted out after him; when she saw what lay in the tent brought a shudder out of her.

The four giants were dead. Something had killed them in their sleep, but no blade, bludgeon or bolt marred their bodies. The sight itself chilled her so much she did not even notice the chest in which they stashed the belongings of their prisoners had been smashed open and looted.

Vahnabi and Haldiin spun around and looked outside the tent each straining an ear for the sound of their former captives. Finally three of the four leapt out of the sands. Haldiin hurled his javelin at the bugbear, who barely ducked in time. The one who looked human shot an arrow at the priestess, the thri-kreen flung two three-pronged throwing blades toward her paramour.

Vahnabi's protective spell deflected the arrow, even broke it. Haldiin swat aside one blade with his sword, the other cut through his sleeve, but bounced of the skin, thanks to the potion Vahnabi had him drink earlier. The priestess-mage sneered and began to cast more offensive magic, whilst Haldiin looked left and right for the fourth prisoner.

Before Vahnabi could complete the spell a mass of black, strong tentacles rose from the ground beneath hers and and Haldiin's feet; disrupting her enchantment and forcing Haldiin to drop his scimitar. At the giants struggled vainly to break free Shoutanei stepped out from behind the larger tent, staff in hand; he gave a smug smile to Haldiin but when he looked at Vahnabi his expression turned even darker.

Haldiin turned his head to curse the drow, Garadon shot an arrow through his open mouth. Vahnabi screamed at the sight, another arrow went through hers.

Under a minute later the tentacles Shoutanei conjured dissipated and the giants dropped to the ground. When satisfied neither would get back up, Shoutanei, Garadon and Kezreck looked to Path-Chak.

Shoutanei broke the silence, "We owe our freedom, if not our lives to your help. Likely you have a home to return to, but if not we would welcome your companionship."

Path-Chak paused at the offer, then he nodded.

Kezreck held up his hand, "A little problem with that- even if the giants hadn't eaten some of our rations, we still wouldn't have enough for four people."

Path-Chak looked to the bodies of Vahnabi and Haldiin then through telepathy suggested a practical, albeit unsettling solution.

Kezreck looked at Shoutanei, "He's not serious, is he?"

"Sometimes one must do questionable things to survive," Shoutanei replied, "If you help him Kezreck, Garadon and I will retrieve our map and see if there's anything useful we can salvage from Lady Vahnabi's tent." Watching the dark elf and doppelganger stride into the smaller pavilion, Kezreck eventually shrugged and went to assist Path-Chak in the task of butchering the bodies of the two giants.