Chapter 4

The hero solves his first mystery

*thump* As I smashed my club into what had to be the thirtieth or so slime I had run into since leaving the town of Brecconary for Erdrick's tomb, I began to wonder about several things. The first being how long it was going to take me, killing these pathetic creatures, to buy a decent sword at one or two gold per slime.

I suppose if I killed one every minute, and I need fifteen hundred gold that would be fifteen hundred minutes. There's sixty minutes in an hour. Ten hours would be six hundred gold. Double that for twelve hundred gold. That leaves three hundred to make up, another five hours, correct? So maybe three days as I do have to eat and sleep and rest every so often? I could live with that, the risk seems slight. The problem is, will I actually find that many slimes around here? And what would it mean if I did? But there was another consideration; why would the Dragonlord station such pathetic monsters within sight of his castle? I could almost believe the Dragonlord, keeping a watchful eye as he did on the kingdom himself, wouldn't need any other deterrent to rebellion, but for a man that planned his coup out in such detail, it seemed quite careless. On the other hand, maybe monsters don't like him any more than we do, or stronger monsters didn't like being around him, and had fled the area long ago.

My other thought was how tired I was going to be swinging this stupid club around after even one hour, much less ten! Give me something with an edge, please! But at least I was getting a workout. I was trying to swing the thing first with one hand and then the other, so I didn't develop one muscle bound arm while the other stayed the same, but wondered if that's how it worked anyway. Suddenly, I spotted a stone structure matching the description I received from the tool shop owner, and knew my first goal was in reach. He told me that it was more a crypt than a grave, having been interred with honor after his death into a monument to last the ages, and that most of it was underground. This was only the entrance, so as long as I found some stairs right inside that went down, I was in the right place. I could only wonder at what awaited me, below, but as long as I watched the one entrance I couldn't be taken by surprise. I gripped the club and made my way forward, expecting something to spring out at me as this would be a great place to ambush someone, now wouldn't it?

Stepping up the few stone stairs leading to the entrance of the tomb, I looked down the stairs and relaxed my guard. Nothing. I found it strange that the place seemed untouched by the Dragonlord's minions or even the master himself. Such a place, being an icon of the people, would no doubt be his style to destroy. I had however felt a strange force as I mounted the stairs and a faint shimmer, like a curtain being parted, sparkled around me briefly. Perhaps I had thought to myself, this place is protected by magics even the Dragonlord cannot penetrate. I also noticed a torch set in a holder to the right of the door come to life as I climbed the last stair. I guess that means I can go in. Taking the torch in hand, I peered down the staircase into the blackness below.

The tomb smelled of age, but only faintly of moss. The walls were dry and straight, evidently well repaired and looked after. That, or magics had been set on the place to keep the elements out as well as the Dragonlord's creatures. There before me stood an ornate tombstone, topped with a cross and set with an inscription:

Here lies Loto, son of Ortega

Had he not lived, we would have died

Let the world remember the name

Erdrick

I read the chiseled words twice, not comprehending. The tool shop owner told me of some kind of tablet I would need to read, to be found here in Erdrick's tomb, but I saw nothing. I looked around the back- nothing. I walked the perimeter of the chamber- nothing. The walls were gray stone, no doubt brought here to insulate against the raw earth. The chamber was not wide or deep, just big enough for a person of average size to walk around the chamber, with room to spare on either side. I saw nothing of note or interest, felt nothing, heard nothing. It seemed a grave in every sense of the word. Almost, I turned to go. Almost, but there was a puzzle here, I was sure of it. I could not believe the man would steer me wrong, he seemed quite capable in both his crafting of the armor and the working of magic, unless he had simply been mistaken. Could he have been misinformed? I couldn't believe he would knowingly steer me wrong after taking me into his confidence as he did. I tapped the walls, seeking for some hidden door, but only the echo of my club upon the walls came back to me. No, there was no hidden chamber beyond these four walls, I was sure of that. The only feature of the room-

Of course, the gravestone itself! I put my hand against the stone, and nothing happened. A scowled at the stone, but then realized any number of people may have touched the thing over the years, it was the only thing in the room. Something more would be needed. I named myself and added "I am the descendant of Erdrick spoken of in prophesy." After speaking this I was rewarded! The stone began to radiate, and a light blazed forth from the cross, illuminating a section of the wall directly behind the stone, near the floor. These stones crumbled to dust, and behind them, I spied a treasure chest! The light subsided, leaving me feeling much better, of course the wizards of the day had protected such an important artifact with potent magics, how could they do less? I was foolish for thinking I would just stumble across it like any old fool that wandered in here. In fact, I became elated- this above all proved I was the descendant of Erdrick as I claimed! Who else could have opened the way as I did? Had not naming myself been the key? I rushed to the chest and sank to my knees, hesitantly reaching out to touch it. Nothing seemed to happen, no other traps or protections were in evidence, so I pulled the chest out from the hole in the wall it had been thrust into and opened the catch. Inside was not so much a tablet as a small leather book, which I picked up with trembling hands, and began to read.

I am leaving these first few pages of my journal blank in case I need to leave a message for those that read it after I have finished it. If these pages remain blank, know I have failed in my quest. Read well then the tale of my sorrow.

How forward thinking, I thought. Maybe I should keep a journal too. The ink was different and the style of writing was slightly changed after that, and I sat down and wedged the torch between the lid of the chest and the bottom so I could read without holding it. I read on.

Greetings to those that come after me. I have much to impart and only a few pages to do it. This book details the quest to find my father and the destruction of Baramos. Some years later, I wished to know if peace remained in the land and had my friend, who had helped me defeat Baramos, cast a powerful spell to look into the future. What he reported saddened me- little progress had been made, both scientific (what's that, I thought) and magical, in fact, magical knowledge had been lost! What tragedy. He told me worse was yet to come, however, as another evil force had arisen and sewn chaos over the land. So I took steps to insure that those who came after me would have the tools they needed to combat this evil as I did. And so you hold this book in your hands. You may believe finding it means you are my heir. Perhaps that is true, perhaps not- what is important is that the people believe it is true and thus, rally around you and support you. To that end I had fashioned a disk made of gold, upon which I placed my mark and had hidden in a remote corner of the world. I told the king's daughter where to find it, and she promised all royal ladies of her line would be told so that, if it was needed, it could be found. It has no magical properties of its own, it only serves to "prove" you are my "ancestor." If you can find it, I would be honored to count you among my family even if you are not, so put no meaning in our blood relationship. Show the token in times of need, and hopefully, help will be given. In my travels I assembled a powerful staff which I used to remove the protective spells around Baramos so he could be hurt. After they were no longer needed, I broke the staff once again into pieces and gave them to trusted men to hand down through the ages and keep safe. Assemble this staff again for it will be needed to piece the heart of the evil you now face. I will instruct this journal be hidden in my grave, to be revealed to one seeking to destroy this evil when the time is right. Upon this everything rests, I hope it will be done.

My gaze hardened. So, was I his ancestor or not? I guess it didn't matter, but still. Like he had written, it mattered more that people believed I was, so that they would be more inclined to help me. And this must be the source of the "prophesy" as well, this spell cast by Loto's friend. Again, why not just cast the spell a few more times, figure out what caused the Dragonlord to rise, and tell us to watch out for that? Why wait until the damage is already done?There was not much left to read.

You know what you must do. Be wary, the forces of evil will corrupt the land as easily as the hearts of men, be careful you who trust. Even you may feel yourself swayed by the evil one's words, but hold fast! Two more things I must tell you: the first is that you must journey alone! On this my friend was very clear, to do otherwise will invite disaster upon you and the world. So while you read of my journey and the friends that accompanied me, be aware no others can journey with you. The second is more sinister but yet, the more baffling. Know that I not mad as I write this- something is wrong with the world. I cannot say more. I entreat you, notice everything, question everything, do not ignore the strange happenings that confound you as so many others do. As I grow older my misgivings about the world increase, questions no one can answer confounding me. Why is the world the way it is? Why has no scientific progress (there's that word again!) been made in my lifetime, or the lifetimes of my forefathers? Why does it seem certain things have been placed into the world only for my convenience? Why do I meet, at exactly the time I need to, the one person who has the information I seek? Why do the creatures I fight seem to grow in power as I do? These questions and more I shall take to my grave, perhaps you can put my spirit to rest by answering them, for I cannot.

Good luck. Perhaps one day, you too will take the name Erdrick and it shall be your grave a hero visits in the future.

I slowly closed the book, stunned. He writes that he is not mad, but how could he be sure, those last paragraphs seemed like madness to me. The world was "wrong?" What does that mean? But at the same time, those words spoke to me; Had I not come to the castle without knowing how? And what of the enemies I had already fought? There did seem to be more red slimes than blue after a time outside the castle slaughtering them. I shook my head, I was not going to find answers in this place! I opened the book again, two more pages were left blank after this, and I took a casual look through the pages to see what I might find there. The first page was obviously hurriedly scrawled, by one who did not care much for his penmanship. I had to struggle a bit to read it, but it seemed to say:

My name is Loto, and I have just turned 16. Just this morning I was summoned to see the KING! He wants me to go kill some creature he called Baramos because my father couldn't. What makes him think I would have any better luck, anyway? And what's with this piddly amount of gold he gave me to do it? I want to hire an army, not a street walker!

Why did that seem so familiar to me? I flipped to perhaps the middle of the book.

Sailing again. Why can't things we need ever be just down the street from each other? Why do they always have to be a thousand miles apart? It's so SLOW! I see water wheels being used to drive millstones to crush grain, why do we not have any way of storing that motion as energy and releasing it later? If you could, that water wheel could be attached to the side of the boat and used to propel it when there was no wind.

And the man wrote he was not mad? Was he insane? Wait, that didn't make sense, I stopped myself. Anyway: Storing motion? Putting water wheels on the sides of boats? That was crazy talk! But he continued:

And when there is wind, are we really using it to best effect? Could a better arrangement of sails catch a lighter wind? Or make the boat go when the wind wasn't exactly blowing in the right direction? Could the wind be captured somehow and used later when there was less? The captain will not let me try any other sail configuration, he says this sail was good enough for his father, it's good enough for him.

If this is the kind of stuff he was thinking about, I thought, It's a wonder he ever defeated this Baramos guy. But in the back of my head, a seed had been planted. What if there are better ways of doing things, and we are looking right past them because something "had always been done that way?" I stowed the book under my arm and retrieved my torch which was burning low. Shoving the chest back into the hole, I was surprised to see the wall reform around it. I stared at it curiously, but decided it had been built to be opened and closed multiple times, possibly to check for theft or to return the journal after I was done with it. It has Loto's… I mean, Erdrick's after all, it should rest with him. My thoughts were racing as I climbed the stairs out of the crypt and blew out the torch, replacing it in the holder outside. I hefted my club up to my shoulder, it was time to return to the tool shop owner and tell him his "tablet" was really a book, and that Loto wasn't the man we all knew. I left the protective field of the tomb and was so lost in thought I didn't think to wonder why there were no slimes about, and that's when I was attacked by a tree.