HALLOWEEN: 2002
The Cemetary and the Cathedral
Jun-Juua pulled her cloak tighter about herself as she forced herself to trudge through the brush and the nettles. It was frigid outside and the fact that it had been raining a while before didn't help it. Her boots were soaked through and she was certain that if she didn't find an inn or a
tavern to warm up in her toes were going to be so frostbitten she'd have to have them lopped off.
None the less she plunged through the dark forest, growling and cursing worse than any human she'd ever met. She'd trade anything to get a pair of earmuffs to cover the slightly tapered tips of her ears, which at the moment were swivelling at every little sound around her.
She could swear that she heard other people, other very LOUD people trudging through the forest as well, but it couldn't be. She'd left the last town behind her long ago and judging by the position of the moon it was just about midnight. No one would be out at midnight, the dreaded 'witching hour' where mothers locked up their children and snuggled down next to their
husbands with hearty fires lighted in hearths. So she dismissed herself as being paranoid and silly,and forced herself to walk again, clutching her prize tightly to her breast.
She was out here on a dare, to get a bone from the nearby graveyard of centaurs and she had gone out, foolishly and nearly scared herself witless in grabbing the rib from a skeleton and winding up with another skeleton falling on top of her.
A sudden noise caught her ears and she froze in midstep, ears twitching slightly to hear the sound. It was a man's voice, deep, rich, slightly raspy and interupted every few seconds by a hiccup. Probably a drunk centaur guard, she thought and jumped to the lowest branch she could find and pulled herself into the tree branches. There was no way she was EVER going to be caught by a drunk centaur. It was bad enough that they would never give a straight answer for her half-human logic, but when they were drunk they were somewhat violent and absolutely intolerable with their awful riddles.
The voice wasn't moving toward her or away from her but rather in a beeline path for the clearing just ahead. Listening close she realized that there were only two feet, possibly a third which was most likely lame from the dragging sound it produced. Curious...very curious.
She decided to go after it, to see what it was at least. She wouldn't get caught, after all,centaurs' weren't nearly as good hearing things as elves, or half elves for that matter.
Jumping from tree to tree she followed the sound of the awful singing and drag-thump of the creature's limbs just to the clearing where the figure became visible. She didn't have time to observe it though as an arrow whizzed by her head and landed with a thump in the tree trunk behind her. Her balance lost she toppled with a shout to the floor.
** ** **
Geron walked into the massive clearing, dotted with grave markers and looked about almost hesitantly as his fingers clutched at the arrow, notched against his long bow. He could see his breath in the air and hear his own breathing, heartbeat and footsteps as well as some really bad singing and loud drag-thumping sound of footsteps of somekind.
He'd walked halfway across the cemetary already and he was just now reaching the opposite edge where trees lined the non-existant barrier between it and the forest.
He was able to make out the singing figure as it emerged from the woods and almost laughed when he discovered it to be a drunken dwarf, dragging his massive war-axe behind him as he pulled at his wine skin. His light mood was cut short when he spotted a sillouhette in the tree above the dwarf, also armed with a long bow and some kind of sword latched at the hip.
He carefully took aim at the thing and let it fly. He cursed as it missed the creature and hit the tree but smirked when the person cried out and fell from the branch, hitting the ground with a muffled thump.
He ran forward quickly to the dwarfs aide, pushing him aside to pull up the nearly limp figure that was 'going' to attack the dwarf. Geron bit back a groan and a curse when he realized it was just a female, half-elf he'd shot at, and the fact that she looked barely over the age of fourteen didn't heal any of his guilt.
Tapping her cheek lightly he watched her eyes roll forward and she blinked, looked up at him, let out a piercing shriek and scrambled, crab style away from him and into the brush.
"Hey! Goblin! Get up!" Another voice shouted from behind him and he nearly jumped.
In his haste he didn't even hear the woman approach.He turned around slowly, with his arms raised in a surrendering gesture and observed the human before him. She was pretty tall, about 6'1'', and she was obviously a human, with a shortbow with a notched arrow in her hands,drawn and ready to let fly and a dagger at her hip that looked pretty nasty, even if he had
scale-male on.
"Get away from her! Go on! Leave 'er alone, you brute!" the human commanded.
Seizing the opportunity, Jun-Juua got to her feet and jumped into the trees again, jumping to a branch as far from the hobgoblin as possible.
"Aye! What's a hobgoblin **hic** got business with a girl for?" the dwarf asked as he took another pull at the wineskin.
"Hey! I just saved your ass, you ingrate!" Geron snapped at the dwarf, feeling more than a little betrayed.
Jun-Juua jumped to the branch above Geron's head and perched there listening intently.
"You shot at me and scared the living shit out of me! I wasn't doing anything!" Jun-Juua protested. "If anything I think the dwarf had good reason to think you might go after him next."
"I thought you were going to attack him, you were armed and in a good position to do so." Geron retorted. "I'm sorry if I injured you."
The human woman snorted and hesitantly lowered her bow. "So I guess...it was a misunderstanding on all of our parts." After a brief awkward silence she put the arrow back in her quiver and slung her bow across her shoulder again. "Why don't you come out of that tree, girl?"
"I'm quite comfortable here, thank you." Jun-Juua replied.
The dwarf laughed and coughed a bit as he choked a bit on his ale or wine or whatever it was he was drinking. "Aye lassie! An elf is as at home in the trees as she is on the ground!"
Jun-Juua's temper flared, "Are you trying to make fun of me, dwarf?"
"Nay, Lassie, why would ye think that?"
"Don't you dare insult my heritage!"
"I wasn'a doin' that Lass." the dwarf replied.
"She's half-elf, Idiot." Geron snapped at the dwarf.
"Aye, I see." the dwarf pulled at his beard then turned to the human woman, "Ach, and what be your name?"
"Sorte." the human replied. "And what's yours."
"Ach! My name is Torr. Glad t'meet ya." he said.
Sorte noticed with a bit of disgust that ale dribbled down into the dwarf's beard and was currently turning it into a red soppy mess.
"Um--your beard."
"Aye, lass! I have a long beard! Ach, my grandson had a long beard as well! It longer than my beard!" Torr replied.
"And how long is your wife's beard? Just out of curiousity." Geron asked sarcastically.
"Ach! Now there was a beard! Her beard was longer n' my Grandson's!" Torr said with a laugh.
"Oh gross!" Jun-Juua bit back.
"Oh, nay Lassie. She was the prettiest dwarf on the up-side." Torr hiccuped.
"My name is Jun-Juua, not lass!" she interrupted.
"Ach! I see! And what be your name, Sir Hobgoblin."
"None of your business." Geron snorted
"Ach! That tis nay a name!"
Sorte tossed her hair over her shoulder and stared at the hobgoblin, "Would you tell me your name?"
"It's Geron." he replied.
"Aye! So, what brings ye out here on such a cold night then laddy and lassies?" Torr asked.
"I'm just looking for the nearest town. I got pulled off the trail I was on earlier by something." Sorte replied.
Geron nodded, "Same thing here. So what's a drunk dwarf doing out in the forest?"
"I dinna remember how I came t'be here. I just sorta woke up in the middle of th' forest. An' well, here I am!"
With that all eyes turned to Jun-Juua, she shifted uncomfortably.
"Well?" Geron asked.
"Well what?"
"Why are you out here? I mean, it's not every day you find a half-elf as young as you out on her own in the middle of the night. Not to mention it's cold out here." Geron said.
Jun-Juua raised an eyebrow, "I live in the forest with my people. I just went into the next town over this morning to meet up with some friends of mine and they kind of asked me to...." she paused.
"Asked you to what?" asked Geron suspiciously.
"It's nothing."
"Ach, Lassie, nothin' be hidin' here. Ye're either straight forward or ye're dead." Torr laughed.
"They dared me to get something..."
"I see! Tis a dare that brings her out here! Ach! Must've threatened her honor!" Torr chortled.
"They dared me to steal a bone from the centaur graveyard! They didn't threaten my honor, they blackmailed me into it because they've got one of my knives! There, you happy?!" she blurted.
She flushed a deep scarlet as the eyes staring at her widened.
** ** **
After about half an hour of walking and talking the odd group paused. The cemetary was huge and there seemed to be no way out of it. All parties agreed that following the paths that brought them here would be useless, since they all affirmed there was nothing in the way of towns
that sported decent roads to get to where they needed to be and that breaking up would be pointless and silly.
Finally Jun-Juua was the first to sit down as she rested on the costly marble figure of an angel standing guard outside of the mortuary.
Heaving a sigh she settled back against it, "Guys, let's rest for a little bit. My legs are getting tired." she said.
"I thought half-elves were supposed to have more stamina than humans." Sorte quipped.
"We do, but I've been on the move all day and I didn't sleep last night." Jun-Juua replied.
"Ach! I suppose we have time for a drink or two!" Torr said.
Geron eyed the dwarf from his spot leaning against the cartouche of the tomb and shook his head before lowering it so his eyes couldn't be seen.
"You've been pulling at that wine skin for the last half an hour. Even for a dwarf that's a bit much." Sorte said.
"Aye! Would you ladies like some?" Torr asked.
"If you give them anything, Dwarf, you better damn well make it weak." Geron said.
"Ach, laddie, the weakest I've got is a rock ale!"
"Hey, I'll take some of that." Geron smirked.
Torr practically beamed as he tossed the wine skin at Geron.
"I'm not dragging any drunk man's ass back into town." Sorte said.
"I can drag my own ass back into town. And don't worry, even if I'm drunk I can still protect you girls."
"Speaking of protection, who's got what weapon?" Sorte asked.
Jun-Juua gestured to her long bow over her shoulder, the long sword at her hip and the short sword tucked into the hem of her boot and Sorte held out her short bow and her swords for inspection.
"Those are nice, for girls toys and all." Geron smirked and gestured to his long bow and broad sword and held the blade up for all to see, "Now this, is a weapon!"
"Ach! You want to see a REAL weapon, Laddie! This!" Torr swung up his war axe, "This is a real weapon!"
He let it drop causing a tremor beneath their feet as it hit. The heavy bang of metal on solid ground seemed to reverberate through the air and a tense silence drifted over them.
Jun-Juua moved forward and leaned, ears swivelling to catch any sound.
"What are ye all worried about? Tis nothin' but a graveyard. Filled with old skeletons and the like."
"That's what we're worried about!" Geron whispered.
Jun-Juua jumped to her feet, sheathing her sword and drawing an arrow from her quiver as she notched it against her bow.
"What's wrong, Jun-Juua? Do you hear something?" Sorte asked.
"Shhhh!" she hissed. "Listen!"
Geron's ears shifted as Jun-Juua's had and his eyes widened, "Shit, dwarf, I think you woke up trouble."
The earth of two or three of the graves around them shifted and most looked as though something had ben digging at them recently anyway. As the ground began to crack and push upward, Jun-Juua made a frightened noise deep in her throat and put the arrow back into her quiver and threw the bow around her shoulders.
"Goddamn it you guys, we've got to move!" Jun-Juua shouted.
She started running toward the portcullis in the distance and only stopped short when the tombstone in front of her seemed to explode and a skeleton moved out from behind the shattered remnants. She let out a piercing shriek and stumbled back to the others.
Skeletons began emerging from their beds of soil and stone and converging on them.
Geron drew his sword and so did Sorte as they started to slash through the skeletons. Jun-Juua shrank back against another tombstone clutching the small elfin holy symbol in her hand, praying to whatever gods were watching over her to protect her.
Her eyes darted across the battlefield, seeing her companions fighting stoically against all the undead that were increasing rapidly in number. But there was something very off about these skeletons. She'd seen them before, reanimated by their greed and awful personas in life, but these
were a bit more dangerous. Apparently water had been to high in the table and had been seeping into the coffins, because the skeletons had blades of ice protruding from their elbows and where they were making good use of them by driving them at the living opponents.
Looking around, she noted in a terrifying sort of way that this whole area looked desecrated, even details about the angel she'd been sitting under were becoming clear, the face had been scratched away and the holy cross that it once held was shattered. Even the wooden cross, usually nailed above the mortuary had been torn down and shredded to pieces by some kind of claws.
Torr noticed her immobility just as the ground beneath Jun-Juua's feet began to develop canyons and the mound of dirt seemed to grow. As the skeleton exploded upward his war-axe came down and shattered the creature bones and all.
He grabbed Jun-Juua's hand and yanked her away from the graves beside it that were now starting to follow the process of their predecessor.
Looking over to Geron and Sorte he started to pull Jun-Juua as he ran for the portcullis, shouting over his shoulder, "Hobgoblin! Get yourself and the lass outta there!"
Jun-Juua watched in stunned horror as Torr pulled her along as several skeletons converged on Geron and one of them plunged an icicle into his shoulder where the breast plate and shoulder plate met and didn't protect. He threw his head back in a soundless scream as the icycle seemed to dissolve in his shoulder and he sank to the ground beneath the weight of the skeletons.
Sorte fended off the remaining skeletons threatening her and started to run after Torr and Jun-Juua.
Regaining her senses in mere moments Jun-Juua shook her head free of the horror that gripped her and tried to pay more attention to her surroundings as she was pulled along. She dug her feet into the dirt to try and keep herself from falling as Torr dragged her toward the open portcullis.
She felt her feet come out from under her and she was slung over Torr's shoulder like a sack of dried meat.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, you stupid Dwarf?!" Jun-Juua demanded.
The dwarf either didn't hear her or was too drunk to care because he was silent.
As if being carried like a sack wasn't enough, Jun-Juua thought, it had to be someone who was about half her height. It couldn't possibly be more humiliating.She looked around as the scene of the grave-walkers started to shrink a bit. Sorte was running about half a yard behind them but just as they neared the portcullis Sorte froze in midstep.
"Sorte! Why'd you stop?!"
"We forgot the hobgoblin! We forgot Geron, I have to go back for him!" Sorte said.
The message sank in quickly and Jun-Juua realized that she had seen him fall, paralyzed by whatever was in that icicle and her heart leapt into her throat as she realized that he might be dead because they'd left him there.
"Torr! Torr, you drunken idiot! Put me down! I have to go help Sorte!" she demanded.
Torr kept going and Jun-Juua growled her frustration and started to kick at him. After many kicks and getting no where she drove the heel of her palm into the back of Torr's helmet.
The dwarf finally stopped, "Ach, what is it lass?"
"Geron's still back there! Put me down, I have to go help Sorte!" Jun-Juua protested.
"Oh no ye don't lassie! Tell ye what, ye keep headin' toward that gate an' I'll go back an'help the woman carry that damned hobgoblin out." Torr said.
Jun-Juua thrust herself out of Torr's grip and looked from the gate back to the shrinking form of Sorte. She looked back at the gate again and noticed something or someone by the crank wheel. She heard the sound of some kind of snap and suddenly realized that the gate was dropping, and fast.
"Go! Now!" Jun-Juua said to Torr and began running toward the gate.
If that portcullis closed now, she and the others would be stuck here for certain with skeletons that were obviously out for more than skin. She shouted as the cloaked figure disappeared from sight just as she neared the nearly shut gate and dove beneath it before it slammed down where her legs would have been seconds earlier. She let out a sigh of relief,finding she might have been hamstringed.
She looked around frantically and finally located the wheel that opened and closed the gate and even as she looked at it, it started to turn startling her.
She looked back into the cemetary and saw Torr and Sorte running as fast as they could,carrying Geron between the two of them .Torr using one arm to hold Geron and the other to slash at all the skeletons that were swarming around them. Sorte on the other hand was left defenseless,suffering small cuts and bruises as the undead creatures beat on her with hands, arms, legs and just about every available body part.
Jun-Juua unlatched her bow and held it aloft, whispering a soft spell as she notched the arrow to the bow and smirking slightly when the tip burst into flame. Aiming straight into the throng of undead she fired and was surprised and frightened to see that the flames were not only accurate but that the fire burst outward and threw several skeletons and zombies which seemed to have pulled themselves into the army that was following her friends and sent them all scattering.Torr let out a whoop and cheered.
"Ach! Good shootin' lass! Now get that gate open!" Torr whooped.
Jun-Juua looked back at the wheel which was turning faster now to raise the gate. Torr and Sorte plunged through the gate and Sorte was forced to bear the full weight of Geron as Torr dropped him.
"They're still coming! Look!" Jun-Juua shouted.
Sorte set Geron down on his back and returned to the gate. Her eyes seemed to take account of every undead beast there.
"There are far too many to fight on our own! We have to shut the gate!" Sorte said and turned to the wheel controlling the level of the iron-wrought portcullis.
"There's another one, way over there! If we shut this one then we'll have to get someone else to go close that one while we still have the other two look after Geron. If we have to move him quickly we'll need two people." Jun-Juua said.
"I'll go close the other gate! Ye two just look after the hobgoblin and get this damn thing closed as well!" Torr said and took off toward the other vestibule.
Jun-Juua joined Sorte as she tried to turn the raising wheel. Their hands began to hurt and turn red as splinters flaked off into their skin but it still wouldn't move.
"The damned thing won't budge and they're too close!" Jun-Juua cried and unsheathed her sword to slice through the spine of a skeleton who'd beat his brethren to the gate.
Sorte's heart was racing as was her mind. They'd never be able to get the portcullis shut in time, then she spotted the rope that held the gate open.
She took out her sword and shouted at Jun-Juua to get back before hacking the rope into little shreds. The massive, iron gate creaked and then came slamming down, pinning a skeleton to the ground before it just before the others seemed to throw themselves collectively at the gate.
** ** **
Reaching the second portcullis was an easy feat to manage and it was also a bit anticlimatic as Torr noticed that there weren't any of the undead army headed toward the gate. But he wasn't going to take chances when lives were at stake. He hiccuped and took a pull at his ale and looked at the raising wheel. It was obviously in bad disrepair and it creaked loudly even as he touched it. Sighing he searched, using his hands as opposed to his blurred vision to find the rope. It was too thick to simply bite through so he'd have to use his axe.
Looking around he wondered vauguely why the light in the tower a little ways away was on and there hadn't been anyone about to notice the enormous activity of the undead creatures that were converging.
He looked back toward the graveyard, scratched his chin through his beard and burped.As he did so he noticed a black line appearing on the horizon. Squinting he realized that it was a massive army of the same undead soldiers that had been attacking them earlier.
He turned frantically back to the rope, squinting to find it. He raised his axe, aimed and swung downward and missed horribly. Picking it up again he swung blindly and barely grazed the fibers, the third time it cut half-through and would go no-futher. Determined to get that gate shut he grabbed ahold of the rope with both hands and began to chew through it.
After five minutes he saw the shapes growing louder and could actually hear a few of the moans and clacking of bones. Fed up he picked up the war-axe again and swung as hard as he could, finding relief as the rope snapped and the gate slammed shut just as five of them lunged at the door way and began to reach through the gaps of the iron to grab at him.
Thinking the better of it, scratching his chin and burping Torr leaned as close to the bars as possible without having his face ripped off and blew a raspberry in their faces before wandering back in the direction of the others.
He turned around and looked toward the tower. He couldn't help but wonder, why on earth there were lights on. He walked over and observed the keep closely.
The doors were enormous, made of a heavy wood with a locking mechanism that pierced the wood on the side, there would be no budging these doors unless the lock was actually unlocked. He searched the smooth stone surface that went up about twelve feet on either side of the door, searching for some kind of mechanism. Finding none he searched closer to the bottom and on incredulous inspection, he discovered six slots, each the size of a large pebble. Looking up at the top of the tower that was the keep he noticed a purple colored gem, about the size of a human head. His eyes widened slightly and his mouth practically watered.
Looking around and finding no way up he shrugged. It would have to wait till morning.
A twinkling in the dirt beneath the tower alerted his eyes and he knelt down to scratch away the dirt. He emerged with a small gem, the same shade of purple as the large one at the peak of the tower and it looked as though it would fit perfectly into the slots. He'd have to tell the others about it so they could help him find the other five. Perhaps then he would see what treasures the tower hid.
Sighing, he started to walk back toward the first portcullis where he could make out the dots that were his companions.
Looking up toward the moons which seemed to be still at the same position, indicating it was about midnight. It didn't seem possible that only a few minutes had passed, after all, he'd spent at least half an hour with the others. He shrugged, it was most likely the effect of his drink that was making it hard to keep track of time.
Something moved that caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look up at the walkways between the parapets of the fences surrounding the entire necropolis and saw what looked like a human figure walking along the pathways, cloaked in a heavy black shroud.
"Ach! Ho there laddie! Where do ye think ye be goin' with all these undead about?" Torr called up.
The cloaked figure didn't even halt in his path to respond, just kept walking along the edge.
"I said, Ho there laddie! Where are ye goin' with so many undead just up and walkin'among the living?!" Torr demanded irritably.
Again the figure ignored him. Torr followed along the wall as the figure began walking toward the first portcullis. He suddenly had an idea.
He lifted his wine skin above his head, "Laddie? Would ye like a drink t'warm ye up this cold night?"
The creature continued to ignore the dwarf even as the walked.
** ** **
Geron groaned in discomfort as he finally came back to his senses. Sorte and Torr hadn't exactly been gentle in their rescue attempt as they half carried, half dragged him out of the carnage. He'd hit his head countless times before he finally passed out. He wondered vaguely who's warm lap he was half-laying in.
He suddenly felt icy cold hands against his cheek and his eyes shot open to discover Sorte hovering over him and the warm lap was Jun-Juua's. He sat up, flushing a deep scarlet and cleared his throat.
"Thank you for aiding me in my escape, Sorte." he said, trying his best to sound unperturbed.
"You're welcome but you should be giving thanks to the dwarf as well." Sorte answered.
"Right. He caused more damage that he saved me from. My aching head..."
"Are you sure that's from anything he did? Or could it be you just drank a bit too much?" Jun-Juua asked with a small smirk.
"Either way, it's still that blasted dwarf's fault!" Geron grunted as he looked toward the gate which was practically covered in skeletons and zombies trying to climb them, push through them, even pick the thing up without success.
"Speak of the devil, here he comes now." Sorte said, pointing toward the growing form of Torr as he half-walked half-ran toward them, running along the wall with his arm raised and shouting something that was indescernable.
"Hey, who is that?" Jun-Juua asked, pointing toward the figure guiding the dwarf as it walked along the parapets.
Geron squinted to see but was unable to make out more than the dark shape, "Jun-Juua, shoot at him. See what he does."
Jun-Juua shrugged and notched an arrow to her bow, "It's a long shot, I don't know how accurate I'll be, but here goes."
She took careful aim and fired cursing colorfully as it seemed to pass right over him and she heard the faint clattering of the arrow on the stones of the parapets.
Geron snorted and spat something about women not being able to shoot as he stood up carefully. He pulled his own long bow and arrow from his shoulders and aimed, fired and shouted in surprise. The arrow should have hit, the target was in range and the arrow was perfectly aimed. It should have hit!
"Holy mother of gods!" Sorte swore, "It just passed right through him! Just passed right through the guy!"
"Sorte, you take a shot. If it misses then we're getting out of here!" Geron insisted.
Sorte nodded and pulled her bow taut, her face as stark white as a sheet. Torr ran up to the group panting and didn't bother to protest, just watched as Sorte shot at the creature and it missed horribly.
Jun-Juua suddenly stumbled back and fell into the dirt and scrambled backward. "What? What's the matter?!" Sorte pleaded.
"It has no feet! There's nothing in the cloak! That's why the arrow didn't hit anything!" Jun-Juua shuddered.
"We're out of here! Now!" Geron snapped, grabbing both Jun-Juua's wrist and Sorte's as he ran toward a cathedral a little to the north of the cemetary.
** ** **
All of them were breathing hard by the time they made it into the cathedral and Geron pushed the massive doors shut behind him.
Looking around the entry way all they saw were three candelabras placed in the corners and between two sets of massive oak doors. Both of which looked as though they'd been clawed at by the same massive beast that must have destroyed the face of the angel in the cemetary and the holy symbols that were placed at the mortuary and in the hands of the heavenly figure.
Geron and Sorte sank against the set of doors to the outside, breathing hard.
"Does anyone have a holy symbol of some kind?" Geron panted.
"Aye! I have a crucifix. Why?" Torr asked.
"We're up against undead...they're supposed to be...repelled by holy symbols." Geron replied.
"It won't work." Jun-Juua interupted as she collapsed to the floor, panting for breath.
"What? Why not?" Geron asked.
"Oh yeah! The crucifixes in the graveyard...even the ones on the portcullis were all busted up, and I don't know of any evil beast that can touch a crucifix without being burned." Sorte said.
"Did you see the face...of the angel?" Jun-Juua asked. "It was pretty much smashed up,along with the cross she was holding and the horseshoe and cross that were nailed above the door of the mortuary were broken into itty bitty pieces as well."
"What kind of unholy place is this that undead can just walk around and destroy holy relics?" Geron asked.
"I don't know. But I suppose if it is undead that we're up against, this is the best place to be." Jun-Juua said as she pushed herself to her feet. "I knew that taking that stupid bet was a bad idea."
"Ach! Stop yer whining! Ye'll be fine!" the dwarf said as he took a swig of ale.
"But besides that, she's right. This is probably the safest place to be right now. We can wait till morning to leave." Sorte said.
"Even so, I'd rather be sure that this is a safe place to rest before I even bat an eyelash in this place." Geron protested. "You listen at the first set of doors, I'll handle the second."
Sorte shrugged and walked to the doors on the right and Geron approached the ones on the left. Listening closely at the doors, Sorte heard no sound what-so-ever and Geron reported the same.
"So which one do we take? And if you say split up I am going to seriously strangle you with your intestines."
"Ach! My grandson strangled someone with his intestines once! Wasn'a very pleasant sight."
"Would you shut up?!" Jun-Juua snapped and hit Torr upside the head with an indignant fist.
"My grandson shut up once. He didna like it so he never did it again!" Torr replied.
Both Geron and Sorte couldn't help chuckling.
"I say we go left." Sorte said.
"I second the decision." Geron replied.
"I say go right!" Torr said.
"Okay, it's unanimous. We go left." Geron said.
** ** **
The hallway and the first few rooms were all empty save for a few candlabras, which were oddly all lit and in perfect condition and a few barrels left barren of even field mice but after awhile of wandering they came to a pair of enormous polished oak doors. These too, were marred
by ugly scars of claws twisting grooves into the expensive wood.
"I'll listen at the door to make sure there isn't anything in there first." Sorte said.
With that she knelt at the door and listened closely, straining to catch any bit of noise. After a few long moments of silence she stood up and shrugged.
"All clear."
They pushed the massive doors inward and they opened onto a chapel. At the very back of the room there was a daius that was lit from the back by a large candlabra with seven large black candles. The walls were lined with nearly identicle candlabras albeit smaller and the candles weren't even lit.
"Do ye want a little bit of light there lass?" Torr asked Sorte.
"I've got a torch."
Geron took the torch from Sorte and walked down the center aisle between the rows of pews and up to the candlabra that sat behind the podium and held the torch over the minute flames and jumping slightly when the torch burst into life. He waited for Sorte to join him before handing her the torch and he continued his search in the dark.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'd like it to be a bit lighter in here. I can't see much
beyond the torchlight." Sorte said.
"I suppose it would make it easier to search." Geron admitted reluctantly as he picked up a candle lighting wand and lit it on Sorte's torch.
Then picking up a splintered piece of wood he lit the end of it and handed it to Jun-Juua who reluctantly followed his lead of going around the room and lighting all the candles. Once accomplished she waved hers out and headed towards the pews, then, finding nothing returned to the dais where Torr now sat taking deep gulps of rock ale.
"Uck! You smell like the southern end of a bull!" She said and pinched her nose as she edged away from him.
"Ach! My grandson smelt like the southern end of a bull! Quite a stench that was! Ach! Every time someone'd pass by 'im it seemed they'd pinch their noses and say 'quit stinkin' up t' high heavens!' Quite a lad, quite a stench!" he laughed and burped.
Geron shook his head irritably as he looked around. Looking up he suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over him. His mouth went from dry to overflowing and he was almost certain he would vomit. The ceiling was covered in blood! It looked fresh for it was still a deep red butmiraculously the floor was completely dry.
It was enough for him to see it, he decided, that he wouldn't bother the girls with it, he was certain they'd go stark raving mad if they saw it and the dwarf wouldn't pay enough attention to know any way.
He looked over at Jun-Juua and wondered if she'd seen it on her own yet. She seemed to be acting strangely, even though he'd only known her for about an hour. She seemed oblivious though as she sat with her legs crossed looking around herself blankly and shifting every once in a while.
He looked back over at Sorte, who sat in front of the dais, playing with something.
"What did you find?" he asked.
"Come here and look at this!" Sorte said, gesturing to him, "It's really wierd. This church isn't even a human or elfin church. I've never seen any holy symbol like this."
Geron walked up behind her to look at the pieces she'd found. They were arranged in such a manner that the basic shape could be discerned but nothing to show what symbol it might be.
Above her head, sitting on the edge of the dais like it had been placed there in some kind of an obvious scavenger hunt was a purple gem. He tapped her shoulder and she looked at it.
"Yeah, I found that gem thingy too. It doesn't fit though. It's kind of pretty." Sorte said.
"Ach! Lass! What color be that rock?"
"Purple. Why?"
"Is it like this one?" Torr asked as he held up the one he'd found near the tower.
Sorte looked up at the gem and her eyes widened, "Yeah! Where'd you find that?"
Torr handed it to her for closer inspection, "Ach! In the dirt beside the tower! There be six slots, shaped like these, I suspect they be part of a locking mechanism of some kind!"
"So we have to find six of them, eh?" Geron asked. "What for? To get into the tower? We're staying here till morning then we're leaving. What's the bother?"
"Think about it. He's a dwarf. He can't resist the idea of treasure he can melt into a weapon." Jun-Juua snorted. "Stupid dwarves."
"We've got nothing better to do. Besides, those undead things are stuck behind that gate." Sorte said.
Geron snorted and sighed, "I suppose."
A short silence fell over them and Geron felt his stomach sink again as he looked up at the ceiling, "Let's get out of this room. It doesn't feel right."
Sorte handed the two gems back to Torr and started to walk to the door at the left side of the dais. Once there she listened, heard nothing and opened it into a hallway. A painfully cold breeze brushed past her, probably from an open window somewhere up the stairs she thought and stepped out into the hall way.
Listening carefully she went a little further and stood in the hallway again. The door behind her slammed shut, she wheeled around on her heel and grabbed the handle of the door and pulled frantically without success. She screamed for the others to open the door and heard their worried shouts.
Suddenly her ears caught a faint musical sound and she stopped shouting to listen, blocking out the sound of Geron, Jun-Juua and Torr's worried voices. Ears straining to catch the sound she realized it was a girl humming.
"Hello? Is someone there?" Sorte called.
No answer and the humming persisted, slowly deepening until suddenly it was full blown mans voice. She heard the girl let out a bloodcurdling scream and what sounded like a bedsheet ripping and water being thrown on the floor and then loud and horrible laughter as footsteps came down the hall.
It was Sorte's turn to scream as she lost touch with her sanity for a moment. She felt an icy prickling grip close around hers and the door was thrown open, with her attached, throwing her to the floor. Another frigid breeze swept past her and she lay on the floor for a moment.
Geron helped her to her feet while Jun-Juua pleaded to be told what was going on. The half-elf sounded on the verge of tears already and the fact that the evil, tense aura in the place was intensifying.
Sorte was shivering when the laughter started again. This time it was much much closer and it seemed to be in the same room as them.
Jun-Juua started screaming hysterically when they heard the womans voice start wailing again and the laughter continued.
"Ach! Hang on Lass! I'll save ye!" Torr growled, lifted his war axe and plunged into the hallway and the door slammed shut and locked behind him.
Geron grabbed Jun-Juua's shoulders and shook her roughly, "We've got to get out of here! Now move!"
The candles snuffed out, one by one and the room suddenly grew cold. Then, when the candlabra at the back of the dais went out it plunged the entire chapel into utter darkness and both Sorte and Geron ran as fast as they could to the door on the right side of the chapel.
They paused at the door, just able to make out Jun-Juua, sitting in the middle of the floor sobbing furiously. Sorte darted forward and grabbed Jun-Juua by the wrist and dragged her out the door with Geron's help and into the hallway, then into a store room where they slammed the door shut and bolted it before moving on.
** ** **
Torr hiccuped and looked around to get his bearings straight. He was pretty sure he'd taken the pathway on the right of the branch off of the hallway, but then again, nothing was ever certain after consuming at least three skins of rock ale and a skin of burberry wine, the hardest alcohol that the centaurs ever concocted.
His vision blurred again and he bumped up against something, "Sorry Miss...didna see ye there." he hiccuped.
A heavy hand came down on his shoulder and he brushed it aside, "I said I'm sorry. What else do ye want from me Lass? Me beard?"
The hand returned to his shoulder and dug claws into his shoulder. Shouting in surprise his hands flew up, spilling burberry wine down the back of his cloak and down the front of whatever was behind him. The thing let out a shrill cry of distress and the hand dug further into his shoulder.
Torr whirled around and looked at the 'lass' that assaulted him and choked back a shout of surprise when he realized through his drunken stupor that this was the thing that was walking along the parapets above the cemetary.
"Ach! Ye picked the wrong opponent!" Torr hiccuped and swung down with his war-axe.
It seemed to pass right through whatever was there.
Looking around frantically for another weapon all Torr found was a torch. After a moments hesitation he remembered something about alcohol being flammable, yanked the torch from it's holder on the while and sent out a spray of spittle, instantly igniting and engulfing the creature in flames.
Another piercing shriek resounded throughout the Chapel and Torr couldn't help but smirk in his haze.
** ** **
The man raised his eyelids carefully. His head throbbed as if someone had just put a mallet to a gong inside his brain. The mere buzzing noise in his head was thundering in his ears. A pure blunder-bluss. It didn't help that a bloodcurdling shriek resonated off the walls setting his very teeth on edge.
He wondered vaguely how long he'd been lying on the floor and began searching himself for all of his items. He was missing everything but a small sword clipped to his belt and the clothes on his back. He cursed the monk silently and himself for his stupidity.
The monk was the only person he'd seen since he'd arived here, around midnight, and he seemed pretty trustworthy. After all he was a quivering old man who'd been terrified at every little noise the chapel made. He even told the stranger his story, why he was all alone and how he'd come here.
It was sad really, to be duped into believing a story so phony as that of the monk. He'd supposedly been here since he was a little boy and recent events launched the place into a place of unrest for the children of the night and he'd taken refuge here in the chapel where all of his fellow
brothers had been cut down where they stood and dragged off, which explained alot of the strange little man's paranoia.
He jumped as another bloodcurdling scream resounded off the walls and the hallway off to his right lit up brilliantly and flickered as if a fire suddenly ignited. He also heard some rambling from a low gravelly voice and wondered when someone other than the monk he'd encountered had come in.
Picking himself up off the floor he dusted the back of his tunic and pants off and made the decision to investigate.
He walked around the corner and into the hall leading to the adjacent room. He saw a pile of a black cloak engulfed in flames in the center of the room and a dwarf standing near it, drinking deeply from the wine skin. The room absolutely reeked of alcohol and he realized that the dwarf had to be drunk, for the smell emanated from him.
"Ach! Laddie! Ye shouldna be here! This place fairly reeks of evil!" The dwarf said,drinking deeply from the wineskin.
**And of alcohol.** the man though wryly.
"Come! We'll away!" the dwarf laughed, pointed at the flaming mass of cloth and laughed again before saying "Tha's pure magic by th' way!"
The man couldn't help but smile.
** ** **
Outside Sorte finally let Jun-Juua stand on her own feet, though she was still sobbing hysterically and finally felt a bit more pity for the half-elf as she sank to her knees. The girl was obviously not used to violence, gore or extreme fear. Which was understandable, the girl, even though she looked as though she'd done her share of work in the sun, was remarkably pale and
though well muscled for one of her heritage she wasn't a paladin or a warrior.Geron snorted and looked down at the half-elf with a bit of disdain mixed with pity.
The doors to the cathedral were thrown open with a bang and both Geron and Sorte turned around, weapons drawn to face whatever emerged.
"God damn it, Dwarf!" Geron snapped as he lowered his weapon. "Unless you want an axe in your head or an arrow between your eyes, announce yourself!"
Torr laughed, "Ach, Laddie, if I dinna keep you on yer toes who will?"
"That freaky guy in that damn cathedral! That's who!" Jun-Juua sobbed.
Torr looked over at her, "I'd imagine that her pants be a bit damp."
"Lay off, wouldya?" Sorte snorted, "Hell, my pants are a bit damp too! Holy mother of gods, what the fuck is wrong with that church?"
"Be damned if I know." Geron said, then, "Torr, who's that?"
Torr laughed and hauled the man he'd found in the cathedral out into the open.
"I dinna know his name, but he showed up just as I defeated a blasted incoporeal!"
"You?! Defeat an incoporeal?! As drunk as you are?! I don't believe it for a minute!" Jun-Juua sniffed disdainfully.
"Ach! Lassie, I know yer scared, but dinna be rude! I be tellin' the truth!" Torr sang.
"Whatever! Question is, what now? I'm not going back into that hell pit." Sorte said.
"I think I see a light on over there." the man beside Torr said and pointed toward the keep.
"I think we ought to go to the keep then. Maybe there'll be someone there to give us directions away from this damned pit." Sorte shrugged.
"I second the motion." Jun-Juua sniffed, wiping the remaineder of her tears away with the back of her sleeve and standing in a fluid motion.
"I suppose, since the girls want to go there they'll need protection and I'm not that eager to stay here either." Geron said. "So I vote to pass."
"Ach! Then 'tis unanimous!" Torr hiccuped.
* ** **
**Author's Note: Okay, this is a bit cliche, but I'm writing this based off an RPG that is *still* in
the process by the way. *With my bud's permission of course.* So I think I should give yall some background. It was a Halloween game that our DM came up with, a mix of Dungeons and Drragons and Call of Cthulu, of course he did just get the "Book of Vile Darkness" so he's been thrusting stuff in there from time to time.* I told him we needed a sex cult and he said no, Lol!*
It'll get wierder as I go, and I might wind up changing some parts because some idget DM hasn't given me a general map yet, or a basic synopsis, so I'm doing it mainly from memory.
Torr, is played by Nathan, and he's always drunk, being a dwarf and all, and he's constantly talking about his grandson, Piete Wuz Guud Keunig, from Beowulf. So please pardon all the cheesy parodies, I'll try to keep them from being to massive.
Sorte, is played by Kasi. She's one of two sane people in the party, aside from Justin and Aaron. Aaron you can't really count as sane because he wears alien masks and plays the harmonica through it's nose, but that's beyond the point. Her character, Sorte, is pretty logical about the way she does things, and she likes to throw in subtle insults to the dwarf and constantly as them turned around into stories about Torr's grandson. Her favorite word has to be "Shit" *Oh, Kasi, if you're reading this, please leave a review and tell me what you think of it so far*
Geron is played by Justin, he's the other of the sane people. His character is very strong, and very hardheaded, and he thinks Torr is a raving idiot and thus protects both Sorte and Jun-Juua from the results of Torr's actions and sometimes from Torr himself. He's got strong moral concepts and is basically the co-leader of the party along with Sorte. Geron also seems to enjoy listening and occasionally joining in on Jun-Juua's insult-parties on Torr.
The anonymous man in the Cathedral is played by Aaron, and he won't play many other chars. in the story line I don't think. Anyways, he's the nut who plays the harmonica with his nose and his character likes to make offhanded remarks.
Jun-Juua is played by me. And she wasn't meant to be seen as a cry baby, she does become rather valuable later in the story. She obviously doesn't like Torr and insults him at every opportunity. She gets along well with Geron and Sorte except when Torr talks to her. Unlike the other two she doesn't try to hide her insults, but rather say them loud and say them proud, even though she was raised by her elven brethren to not believe in pride and use tact when speaking.
Of course, the DM was Miles. And I think I better give this a rest. So R&R peepz, I hope you liked the story so far and want to read the next chapter.
The Cemetary and the Cathedral
Jun-Juua pulled her cloak tighter about herself as she forced herself to trudge through the brush and the nettles. It was frigid outside and the fact that it had been raining a while before didn't help it. Her boots were soaked through and she was certain that if she didn't find an inn or a
tavern to warm up in her toes were going to be so frostbitten she'd have to have them lopped off.
None the less she plunged through the dark forest, growling and cursing worse than any human she'd ever met. She'd trade anything to get a pair of earmuffs to cover the slightly tapered tips of her ears, which at the moment were swivelling at every little sound around her.
She could swear that she heard other people, other very LOUD people trudging through the forest as well, but it couldn't be. She'd left the last town behind her long ago and judging by the position of the moon it was just about midnight. No one would be out at midnight, the dreaded 'witching hour' where mothers locked up their children and snuggled down next to their
husbands with hearty fires lighted in hearths. So she dismissed herself as being paranoid and silly,and forced herself to walk again, clutching her prize tightly to her breast.
She was out here on a dare, to get a bone from the nearby graveyard of centaurs and she had gone out, foolishly and nearly scared herself witless in grabbing the rib from a skeleton and winding up with another skeleton falling on top of her.
A sudden noise caught her ears and she froze in midstep, ears twitching slightly to hear the sound. It was a man's voice, deep, rich, slightly raspy and interupted every few seconds by a hiccup. Probably a drunk centaur guard, she thought and jumped to the lowest branch she could find and pulled herself into the tree branches. There was no way she was EVER going to be caught by a drunk centaur. It was bad enough that they would never give a straight answer for her half-human logic, but when they were drunk they were somewhat violent and absolutely intolerable with their awful riddles.
The voice wasn't moving toward her or away from her but rather in a beeline path for the clearing just ahead. Listening close she realized that there were only two feet, possibly a third which was most likely lame from the dragging sound it produced. Curious...very curious.
She decided to go after it, to see what it was at least. She wouldn't get caught, after all,centaurs' weren't nearly as good hearing things as elves, or half elves for that matter.
Jumping from tree to tree she followed the sound of the awful singing and drag-thump of the creature's limbs just to the clearing where the figure became visible. She didn't have time to observe it though as an arrow whizzed by her head and landed with a thump in the tree trunk behind her. Her balance lost she toppled with a shout to the floor.
** ** **
Geron walked into the massive clearing, dotted with grave markers and looked about almost hesitantly as his fingers clutched at the arrow, notched against his long bow. He could see his breath in the air and hear his own breathing, heartbeat and footsteps as well as some really bad singing and loud drag-thumping sound of footsteps of somekind.
He'd walked halfway across the cemetary already and he was just now reaching the opposite edge where trees lined the non-existant barrier between it and the forest.
He was able to make out the singing figure as it emerged from the woods and almost laughed when he discovered it to be a drunken dwarf, dragging his massive war-axe behind him as he pulled at his wine skin. His light mood was cut short when he spotted a sillouhette in the tree above the dwarf, also armed with a long bow and some kind of sword latched at the hip.
He carefully took aim at the thing and let it fly. He cursed as it missed the creature and hit the tree but smirked when the person cried out and fell from the branch, hitting the ground with a muffled thump.
He ran forward quickly to the dwarfs aide, pushing him aside to pull up the nearly limp figure that was 'going' to attack the dwarf. Geron bit back a groan and a curse when he realized it was just a female, half-elf he'd shot at, and the fact that she looked barely over the age of fourteen didn't heal any of his guilt.
Tapping her cheek lightly he watched her eyes roll forward and she blinked, looked up at him, let out a piercing shriek and scrambled, crab style away from him and into the brush.
"Hey! Goblin! Get up!" Another voice shouted from behind him and he nearly jumped.
In his haste he didn't even hear the woman approach.He turned around slowly, with his arms raised in a surrendering gesture and observed the human before him. She was pretty tall, about 6'1'', and she was obviously a human, with a shortbow with a notched arrow in her hands,drawn and ready to let fly and a dagger at her hip that looked pretty nasty, even if he had
scale-male on.
"Get away from her! Go on! Leave 'er alone, you brute!" the human commanded.
Seizing the opportunity, Jun-Juua got to her feet and jumped into the trees again, jumping to a branch as far from the hobgoblin as possible.
"Aye! What's a hobgoblin **hic** got business with a girl for?" the dwarf asked as he took another pull at the wineskin.
"Hey! I just saved your ass, you ingrate!" Geron snapped at the dwarf, feeling more than a little betrayed.
Jun-Juua jumped to the branch above Geron's head and perched there listening intently.
"You shot at me and scared the living shit out of me! I wasn't doing anything!" Jun-Juua protested. "If anything I think the dwarf had good reason to think you might go after him next."
"I thought you were going to attack him, you were armed and in a good position to do so." Geron retorted. "I'm sorry if I injured you."
The human woman snorted and hesitantly lowered her bow. "So I guess...it was a misunderstanding on all of our parts." After a brief awkward silence she put the arrow back in her quiver and slung her bow across her shoulder again. "Why don't you come out of that tree, girl?"
"I'm quite comfortable here, thank you." Jun-Juua replied.
The dwarf laughed and coughed a bit as he choked a bit on his ale or wine or whatever it was he was drinking. "Aye lassie! An elf is as at home in the trees as she is on the ground!"
Jun-Juua's temper flared, "Are you trying to make fun of me, dwarf?"
"Nay, Lassie, why would ye think that?"
"Don't you dare insult my heritage!"
"I wasn'a doin' that Lass." the dwarf replied.
"She's half-elf, Idiot." Geron snapped at the dwarf.
"Aye, I see." the dwarf pulled at his beard then turned to the human woman, "Ach, and what be your name?"
"Sorte." the human replied. "And what's yours."
"Ach! My name is Torr. Glad t'meet ya." he said.
Sorte noticed with a bit of disgust that ale dribbled down into the dwarf's beard and was currently turning it into a red soppy mess.
"Um--your beard."
"Aye, lass! I have a long beard! Ach, my grandson had a long beard as well! It longer than my beard!" Torr replied.
"And how long is your wife's beard? Just out of curiousity." Geron asked sarcastically.
"Ach! Now there was a beard! Her beard was longer n' my Grandson's!" Torr said with a laugh.
"Oh gross!" Jun-Juua bit back.
"Oh, nay Lassie. She was the prettiest dwarf on the up-side." Torr hiccuped.
"My name is Jun-Juua, not lass!" she interrupted.
"Ach! I see! And what be your name, Sir Hobgoblin."
"None of your business." Geron snorted
"Ach! That tis nay a name!"
Sorte tossed her hair over her shoulder and stared at the hobgoblin, "Would you tell me your name?"
"It's Geron." he replied.
"Aye! So, what brings ye out here on such a cold night then laddy and lassies?" Torr asked.
"I'm just looking for the nearest town. I got pulled off the trail I was on earlier by something." Sorte replied.
Geron nodded, "Same thing here. So what's a drunk dwarf doing out in the forest?"
"I dinna remember how I came t'be here. I just sorta woke up in the middle of th' forest. An' well, here I am!"
With that all eyes turned to Jun-Juua, she shifted uncomfortably.
"Well?" Geron asked.
"Well what?"
"Why are you out here? I mean, it's not every day you find a half-elf as young as you out on her own in the middle of the night. Not to mention it's cold out here." Geron said.
Jun-Juua raised an eyebrow, "I live in the forest with my people. I just went into the next town over this morning to meet up with some friends of mine and they kind of asked me to...." she paused.
"Asked you to what?" asked Geron suspiciously.
"It's nothing."
"Ach, Lassie, nothin' be hidin' here. Ye're either straight forward or ye're dead." Torr laughed.
"They dared me to get something..."
"I see! Tis a dare that brings her out here! Ach! Must've threatened her honor!" Torr chortled.
"They dared me to steal a bone from the centaur graveyard! They didn't threaten my honor, they blackmailed me into it because they've got one of my knives! There, you happy?!" she blurted.
She flushed a deep scarlet as the eyes staring at her widened.
** ** **
After about half an hour of walking and talking the odd group paused. The cemetary was huge and there seemed to be no way out of it. All parties agreed that following the paths that brought them here would be useless, since they all affirmed there was nothing in the way of towns
that sported decent roads to get to where they needed to be and that breaking up would be pointless and silly.
Finally Jun-Juua was the first to sit down as she rested on the costly marble figure of an angel standing guard outside of the mortuary.
Heaving a sigh she settled back against it, "Guys, let's rest for a little bit. My legs are getting tired." she said.
"I thought half-elves were supposed to have more stamina than humans." Sorte quipped.
"We do, but I've been on the move all day and I didn't sleep last night." Jun-Juua replied.
"Ach! I suppose we have time for a drink or two!" Torr said.
Geron eyed the dwarf from his spot leaning against the cartouche of the tomb and shook his head before lowering it so his eyes couldn't be seen.
"You've been pulling at that wine skin for the last half an hour. Even for a dwarf that's a bit much." Sorte said.
"Aye! Would you ladies like some?" Torr asked.
"If you give them anything, Dwarf, you better damn well make it weak." Geron said.
"Ach, laddie, the weakest I've got is a rock ale!"
"Hey, I'll take some of that." Geron smirked.
Torr practically beamed as he tossed the wine skin at Geron.
"I'm not dragging any drunk man's ass back into town." Sorte said.
"I can drag my own ass back into town. And don't worry, even if I'm drunk I can still protect you girls."
"Speaking of protection, who's got what weapon?" Sorte asked.
Jun-Juua gestured to her long bow over her shoulder, the long sword at her hip and the short sword tucked into the hem of her boot and Sorte held out her short bow and her swords for inspection.
"Those are nice, for girls toys and all." Geron smirked and gestured to his long bow and broad sword and held the blade up for all to see, "Now this, is a weapon!"
"Ach! You want to see a REAL weapon, Laddie! This!" Torr swung up his war axe, "This is a real weapon!"
He let it drop causing a tremor beneath their feet as it hit. The heavy bang of metal on solid ground seemed to reverberate through the air and a tense silence drifted over them.
Jun-Juua moved forward and leaned, ears swivelling to catch any sound.
"What are ye all worried about? Tis nothin' but a graveyard. Filled with old skeletons and the like."
"That's what we're worried about!" Geron whispered.
Jun-Juua jumped to her feet, sheathing her sword and drawing an arrow from her quiver as she notched it against her bow.
"What's wrong, Jun-Juua? Do you hear something?" Sorte asked.
"Shhhh!" she hissed. "Listen!"
Geron's ears shifted as Jun-Juua's had and his eyes widened, "Shit, dwarf, I think you woke up trouble."
The earth of two or three of the graves around them shifted and most looked as though something had ben digging at them recently anyway. As the ground began to crack and push upward, Jun-Juua made a frightened noise deep in her throat and put the arrow back into her quiver and threw the bow around her shoulders.
"Goddamn it you guys, we've got to move!" Jun-Juua shouted.
She started running toward the portcullis in the distance and only stopped short when the tombstone in front of her seemed to explode and a skeleton moved out from behind the shattered remnants. She let out a piercing shriek and stumbled back to the others.
Skeletons began emerging from their beds of soil and stone and converging on them.
Geron drew his sword and so did Sorte as they started to slash through the skeletons. Jun-Juua shrank back against another tombstone clutching the small elfin holy symbol in her hand, praying to whatever gods were watching over her to protect her.
Her eyes darted across the battlefield, seeing her companions fighting stoically against all the undead that were increasing rapidly in number. But there was something very off about these skeletons. She'd seen them before, reanimated by their greed and awful personas in life, but these
were a bit more dangerous. Apparently water had been to high in the table and had been seeping into the coffins, because the skeletons had blades of ice protruding from their elbows and where they were making good use of them by driving them at the living opponents.
Looking around, she noted in a terrifying sort of way that this whole area looked desecrated, even details about the angel she'd been sitting under were becoming clear, the face had been scratched away and the holy cross that it once held was shattered. Even the wooden cross, usually nailed above the mortuary had been torn down and shredded to pieces by some kind of claws.
Torr noticed her immobility just as the ground beneath Jun-Juua's feet began to develop canyons and the mound of dirt seemed to grow. As the skeleton exploded upward his war-axe came down and shattered the creature bones and all.
He grabbed Jun-Juua's hand and yanked her away from the graves beside it that were now starting to follow the process of their predecessor.
Looking over to Geron and Sorte he started to pull Jun-Juua as he ran for the portcullis, shouting over his shoulder, "Hobgoblin! Get yourself and the lass outta there!"
Jun-Juua watched in stunned horror as Torr pulled her along as several skeletons converged on Geron and one of them plunged an icicle into his shoulder where the breast plate and shoulder plate met and didn't protect. He threw his head back in a soundless scream as the icycle seemed to dissolve in his shoulder and he sank to the ground beneath the weight of the skeletons.
Sorte fended off the remaining skeletons threatening her and started to run after Torr and Jun-Juua.
Regaining her senses in mere moments Jun-Juua shook her head free of the horror that gripped her and tried to pay more attention to her surroundings as she was pulled along. She dug her feet into the dirt to try and keep herself from falling as Torr dragged her toward the open portcullis.
She felt her feet come out from under her and she was slung over Torr's shoulder like a sack of dried meat.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, you stupid Dwarf?!" Jun-Juua demanded.
The dwarf either didn't hear her or was too drunk to care because he was silent.
As if being carried like a sack wasn't enough, Jun-Juua thought, it had to be someone who was about half her height. It couldn't possibly be more humiliating.She looked around as the scene of the grave-walkers started to shrink a bit. Sorte was running about half a yard behind them but just as they neared the portcullis Sorte froze in midstep.
"Sorte! Why'd you stop?!"
"We forgot the hobgoblin! We forgot Geron, I have to go back for him!" Sorte said.
The message sank in quickly and Jun-Juua realized that she had seen him fall, paralyzed by whatever was in that icicle and her heart leapt into her throat as she realized that he might be dead because they'd left him there.
"Torr! Torr, you drunken idiot! Put me down! I have to go help Sorte!" she demanded.
Torr kept going and Jun-Juua growled her frustration and started to kick at him. After many kicks and getting no where she drove the heel of her palm into the back of Torr's helmet.
The dwarf finally stopped, "Ach, what is it lass?"
"Geron's still back there! Put me down, I have to go help Sorte!" Jun-Juua protested.
"Oh no ye don't lassie! Tell ye what, ye keep headin' toward that gate an' I'll go back an'help the woman carry that damned hobgoblin out." Torr said.
Jun-Juua thrust herself out of Torr's grip and looked from the gate back to the shrinking form of Sorte. She looked back at the gate again and noticed something or someone by the crank wheel. She heard the sound of some kind of snap and suddenly realized that the gate was dropping, and fast.
"Go! Now!" Jun-Juua said to Torr and began running toward the gate.
If that portcullis closed now, she and the others would be stuck here for certain with skeletons that were obviously out for more than skin. She shouted as the cloaked figure disappeared from sight just as she neared the nearly shut gate and dove beneath it before it slammed down where her legs would have been seconds earlier. She let out a sigh of relief,finding she might have been hamstringed.
She looked around frantically and finally located the wheel that opened and closed the gate and even as she looked at it, it started to turn startling her.
She looked back into the cemetary and saw Torr and Sorte running as fast as they could,carrying Geron between the two of them .Torr using one arm to hold Geron and the other to slash at all the skeletons that were swarming around them. Sorte on the other hand was left defenseless,suffering small cuts and bruises as the undead creatures beat on her with hands, arms, legs and just about every available body part.
Jun-Juua unlatched her bow and held it aloft, whispering a soft spell as she notched the arrow to the bow and smirking slightly when the tip burst into flame. Aiming straight into the throng of undead she fired and was surprised and frightened to see that the flames were not only accurate but that the fire burst outward and threw several skeletons and zombies which seemed to have pulled themselves into the army that was following her friends and sent them all scattering.Torr let out a whoop and cheered.
"Ach! Good shootin' lass! Now get that gate open!" Torr whooped.
Jun-Juua looked back at the wheel which was turning faster now to raise the gate. Torr and Sorte plunged through the gate and Sorte was forced to bear the full weight of Geron as Torr dropped him.
"They're still coming! Look!" Jun-Juua shouted.
Sorte set Geron down on his back and returned to the gate. Her eyes seemed to take account of every undead beast there.
"There are far too many to fight on our own! We have to shut the gate!" Sorte said and turned to the wheel controlling the level of the iron-wrought portcullis.
"There's another one, way over there! If we shut this one then we'll have to get someone else to go close that one while we still have the other two look after Geron. If we have to move him quickly we'll need two people." Jun-Juua said.
"I'll go close the other gate! Ye two just look after the hobgoblin and get this damn thing closed as well!" Torr said and took off toward the other vestibule.
Jun-Juua joined Sorte as she tried to turn the raising wheel. Their hands began to hurt and turn red as splinters flaked off into their skin but it still wouldn't move.
"The damned thing won't budge and they're too close!" Jun-Juua cried and unsheathed her sword to slice through the spine of a skeleton who'd beat his brethren to the gate.
Sorte's heart was racing as was her mind. They'd never be able to get the portcullis shut in time, then she spotted the rope that held the gate open.
She took out her sword and shouted at Jun-Juua to get back before hacking the rope into little shreds. The massive, iron gate creaked and then came slamming down, pinning a skeleton to the ground before it just before the others seemed to throw themselves collectively at the gate.
** ** **
Reaching the second portcullis was an easy feat to manage and it was also a bit anticlimatic as Torr noticed that there weren't any of the undead army headed toward the gate. But he wasn't going to take chances when lives were at stake. He hiccuped and took a pull at his ale and looked at the raising wheel. It was obviously in bad disrepair and it creaked loudly even as he touched it. Sighing he searched, using his hands as opposed to his blurred vision to find the rope. It was too thick to simply bite through so he'd have to use his axe.
Looking around he wondered vauguely why the light in the tower a little ways away was on and there hadn't been anyone about to notice the enormous activity of the undead creatures that were converging.
He looked back toward the graveyard, scratched his chin through his beard and burped.As he did so he noticed a black line appearing on the horizon. Squinting he realized that it was a massive army of the same undead soldiers that had been attacking them earlier.
He turned frantically back to the rope, squinting to find it. He raised his axe, aimed and swung downward and missed horribly. Picking it up again he swung blindly and barely grazed the fibers, the third time it cut half-through and would go no-futher. Determined to get that gate shut he grabbed ahold of the rope with both hands and began to chew through it.
After five minutes he saw the shapes growing louder and could actually hear a few of the moans and clacking of bones. Fed up he picked up the war-axe again and swung as hard as he could, finding relief as the rope snapped and the gate slammed shut just as five of them lunged at the door way and began to reach through the gaps of the iron to grab at him.
Thinking the better of it, scratching his chin and burping Torr leaned as close to the bars as possible without having his face ripped off and blew a raspberry in their faces before wandering back in the direction of the others.
He turned around and looked toward the tower. He couldn't help but wonder, why on earth there were lights on. He walked over and observed the keep closely.
The doors were enormous, made of a heavy wood with a locking mechanism that pierced the wood on the side, there would be no budging these doors unless the lock was actually unlocked. He searched the smooth stone surface that went up about twelve feet on either side of the door, searching for some kind of mechanism. Finding none he searched closer to the bottom and on incredulous inspection, he discovered six slots, each the size of a large pebble. Looking up at the top of the tower that was the keep he noticed a purple colored gem, about the size of a human head. His eyes widened slightly and his mouth practically watered.
Looking around and finding no way up he shrugged. It would have to wait till morning.
A twinkling in the dirt beneath the tower alerted his eyes and he knelt down to scratch away the dirt. He emerged with a small gem, the same shade of purple as the large one at the peak of the tower and it looked as though it would fit perfectly into the slots. He'd have to tell the others about it so they could help him find the other five. Perhaps then he would see what treasures the tower hid.
Sighing, he started to walk back toward the first portcullis where he could make out the dots that were his companions.
Looking up toward the moons which seemed to be still at the same position, indicating it was about midnight. It didn't seem possible that only a few minutes had passed, after all, he'd spent at least half an hour with the others. He shrugged, it was most likely the effect of his drink that was making it hard to keep track of time.
Something moved that caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look up at the walkways between the parapets of the fences surrounding the entire necropolis and saw what looked like a human figure walking along the pathways, cloaked in a heavy black shroud.
"Ach! Ho there laddie! Where do ye think ye be goin' with all these undead about?" Torr called up.
The cloaked figure didn't even halt in his path to respond, just kept walking along the edge.
"I said, Ho there laddie! Where are ye goin' with so many undead just up and walkin'among the living?!" Torr demanded irritably.
Again the figure ignored him. Torr followed along the wall as the figure began walking toward the first portcullis. He suddenly had an idea.
He lifted his wine skin above his head, "Laddie? Would ye like a drink t'warm ye up this cold night?"
The creature continued to ignore the dwarf even as the walked.
** ** **
Geron groaned in discomfort as he finally came back to his senses. Sorte and Torr hadn't exactly been gentle in their rescue attempt as they half carried, half dragged him out of the carnage. He'd hit his head countless times before he finally passed out. He wondered vaguely who's warm lap he was half-laying in.
He suddenly felt icy cold hands against his cheek and his eyes shot open to discover Sorte hovering over him and the warm lap was Jun-Juua's. He sat up, flushing a deep scarlet and cleared his throat.
"Thank you for aiding me in my escape, Sorte." he said, trying his best to sound unperturbed.
"You're welcome but you should be giving thanks to the dwarf as well." Sorte answered.
"Right. He caused more damage that he saved me from. My aching head..."
"Are you sure that's from anything he did? Or could it be you just drank a bit too much?" Jun-Juua asked with a small smirk.
"Either way, it's still that blasted dwarf's fault!" Geron grunted as he looked toward the gate which was practically covered in skeletons and zombies trying to climb them, push through them, even pick the thing up without success.
"Speak of the devil, here he comes now." Sorte said, pointing toward the growing form of Torr as he half-walked half-ran toward them, running along the wall with his arm raised and shouting something that was indescernable.
"Hey, who is that?" Jun-Juua asked, pointing toward the figure guiding the dwarf as it walked along the parapets.
Geron squinted to see but was unable to make out more than the dark shape, "Jun-Juua, shoot at him. See what he does."
Jun-Juua shrugged and notched an arrow to her bow, "It's a long shot, I don't know how accurate I'll be, but here goes."
She took careful aim and fired cursing colorfully as it seemed to pass right over him and she heard the faint clattering of the arrow on the stones of the parapets.
Geron snorted and spat something about women not being able to shoot as he stood up carefully. He pulled his own long bow and arrow from his shoulders and aimed, fired and shouted in surprise. The arrow should have hit, the target was in range and the arrow was perfectly aimed. It should have hit!
"Holy mother of gods!" Sorte swore, "It just passed right through him! Just passed right through the guy!"
"Sorte, you take a shot. If it misses then we're getting out of here!" Geron insisted.
Sorte nodded and pulled her bow taut, her face as stark white as a sheet. Torr ran up to the group panting and didn't bother to protest, just watched as Sorte shot at the creature and it missed horribly.
Jun-Juua suddenly stumbled back and fell into the dirt and scrambled backward. "What? What's the matter?!" Sorte pleaded.
"It has no feet! There's nothing in the cloak! That's why the arrow didn't hit anything!" Jun-Juua shuddered.
"We're out of here! Now!" Geron snapped, grabbing both Jun-Juua's wrist and Sorte's as he ran toward a cathedral a little to the north of the cemetary.
** ** **
All of them were breathing hard by the time they made it into the cathedral and Geron pushed the massive doors shut behind him.
Looking around the entry way all they saw were three candelabras placed in the corners and between two sets of massive oak doors. Both of which looked as though they'd been clawed at by the same massive beast that must have destroyed the face of the angel in the cemetary and the holy symbols that were placed at the mortuary and in the hands of the heavenly figure.
Geron and Sorte sank against the set of doors to the outside, breathing hard.
"Does anyone have a holy symbol of some kind?" Geron panted.
"Aye! I have a crucifix. Why?" Torr asked.
"We're up against undead...they're supposed to be...repelled by holy symbols." Geron replied.
"It won't work." Jun-Juua interupted as she collapsed to the floor, panting for breath.
"What? Why not?" Geron asked.
"Oh yeah! The crucifixes in the graveyard...even the ones on the portcullis were all busted up, and I don't know of any evil beast that can touch a crucifix without being burned." Sorte said.
"Did you see the face...of the angel?" Jun-Juua asked. "It was pretty much smashed up,along with the cross she was holding and the horseshoe and cross that were nailed above the door of the mortuary were broken into itty bitty pieces as well."
"What kind of unholy place is this that undead can just walk around and destroy holy relics?" Geron asked.
"I don't know. But I suppose if it is undead that we're up against, this is the best place to be." Jun-Juua said as she pushed herself to her feet. "I knew that taking that stupid bet was a bad idea."
"Ach! Stop yer whining! Ye'll be fine!" the dwarf said as he took a swig of ale.
"But besides that, she's right. This is probably the safest place to be right now. We can wait till morning to leave." Sorte said.
"Even so, I'd rather be sure that this is a safe place to rest before I even bat an eyelash in this place." Geron protested. "You listen at the first set of doors, I'll handle the second."
Sorte shrugged and walked to the doors on the right and Geron approached the ones on the left. Listening closely at the doors, Sorte heard no sound what-so-ever and Geron reported the same.
"So which one do we take? And if you say split up I am going to seriously strangle you with your intestines."
"Ach! My grandson strangled someone with his intestines once! Wasn'a very pleasant sight."
"Would you shut up?!" Jun-Juua snapped and hit Torr upside the head with an indignant fist.
"My grandson shut up once. He didna like it so he never did it again!" Torr replied.
Both Geron and Sorte couldn't help chuckling.
"I say we go left." Sorte said.
"I second the decision." Geron replied.
"I say go right!" Torr said.
"Okay, it's unanimous. We go left." Geron said.
** ** **
The hallway and the first few rooms were all empty save for a few candlabras, which were oddly all lit and in perfect condition and a few barrels left barren of even field mice but after awhile of wandering they came to a pair of enormous polished oak doors. These too, were marred
by ugly scars of claws twisting grooves into the expensive wood.
"I'll listen at the door to make sure there isn't anything in there first." Sorte said.
With that she knelt at the door and listened closely, straining to catch any bit of noise. After a few long moments of silence she stood up and shrugged.
"All clear."
They pushed the massive doors inward and they opened onto a chapel. At the very back of the room there was a daius that was lit from the back by a large candlabra with seven large black candles. The walls were lined with nearly identicle candlabras albeit smaller and the candles weren't even lit.
"Do ye want a little bit of light there lass?" Torr asked Sorte.
"I've got a torch."
Geron took the torch from Sorte and walked down the center aisle between the rows of pews and up to the candlabra that sat behind the podium and held the torch over the minute flames and jumping slightly when the torch burst into life. He waited for Sorte to join him before handing her the torch and he continued his search in the dark.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'd like it to be a bit lighter in here. I can't see much
beyond the torchlight." Sorte said.
"I suppose it would make it easier to search." Geron admitted reluctantly as he picked up a candle lighting wand and lit it on Sorte's torch.
Then picking up a splintered piece of wood he lit the end of it and handed it to Jun-Juua who reluctantly followed his lead of going around the room and lighting all the candles. Once accomplished she waved hers out and headed towards the pews, then, finding nothing returned to the dais where Torr now sat taking deep gulps of rock ale.
"Uck! You smell like the southern end of a bull!" She said and pinched her nose as she edged away from him.
"Ach! My grandson smelt like the southern end of a bull! Quite a stench that was! Ach! Every time someone'd pass by 'im it seemed they'd pinch their noses and say 'quit stinkin' up t' high heavens!' Quite a lad, quite a stench!" he laughed and burped.
Geron shook his head irritably as he looked around. Looking up he suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over him. His mouth went from dry to overflowing and he was almost certain he would vomit. The ceiling was covered in blood! It looked fresh for it was still a deep red butmiraculously the floor was completely dry.
It was enough for him to see it, he decided, that he wouldn't bother the girls with it, he was certain they'd go stark raving mad if they saw it and the dwarf wouldn't pay enough attention to know any way.
He looked over at Jun-Juua and wondered if she'd seen it on her own yet. She seemed to be acting strangely, even though he'd only known her for about an hour. She seemed oblivious though as she sat with her legs crossed looking around herself blankly and shifting every once in a while.
He looked back over at Sorte, who sat in front of the dais, playing with something.
"What did you find?" he asked.
"Come here and look at this!" Sorte said, gesturing to him, "It's really wierd. This church isn't even a human or elfin church. I've never seen any holy symbol like this."
Geron walked up behind her to look at the pieces she'd found. They were arranged in such a manner that the basic shape could be discerned but nothing to show what symbol it might be.
Above her head, sitting on the edge of the dais like it had been placed there in some kind of an obvious scavenger hunt was a purple gem. He tapped her shoulder and she looked at it.
"Yeah, I found that gem thingy too. It doesn't fit though. It's kind of pretty." Sorte said.
"Ach! Lass! What color be that rock?"
"Purple. Why?"
"Is it like this one?" Torr asked as he held up the one he'd found near the tower.
Sorte looked up at the gem and her eyes widened, "Yeah! Where'd you find that?"
Torr handed it to her for closer inspection, "Ach! In the dirt beside the tower! There be six slots, shaped like these, I suspect they be part of a locking mechanism of some kind!"
"So we have to find six of them, eh?" Geron asked. "What for? To get into the tower? We're staying here till morning then we're leaving. What's the bother?"
"Think about it. He's a dwarf. He can't resist the idea of treasure he can melt into a weapon." Jun-Juua snorted. "Stupid dwarves."
"We've got nothing better to do. Besides, those undead things are stuck behind that gate." Sorte said.
Geron snorted and sighed, "I suppose."
A short silence fell over them and Geron felt his stomach sink again as he looked up at the ceiling, "Let's get out of this room. It doesn't feel right."
Sorte handed the two gems back to Torr and started to walk to the door at the left side of the dais. Once there she listened, heard nothing and opened it into a hallway. A painfully cold breeze brushed past her, probably from an open window somewhere up the stairs she thought and stepped out into the hall way.
Listening carefully she went a little further and stood in the hallway again. The door behind her slammed shut, she wheeled around on her heel and grabbed the handle of the door and pulled frantically without success. She screamed for the others to open the door and heard their worried shouts.
Suddenly her ears caught a faint musical sound and she stopped shouting to listen, blocking out the sound of Geron, Jun-Juua and Torr's worried voices. Ears straining to catch the sound she realized it was a girl humming.
"Hello? Is someone there?" Sorte called.
No answer and the humming persisted, slowly deepening until suddenly it was full blown mans voice. She heard the girl let out a bloodcurdling scream and what sounded like a bedsheet ripping and water being thrown on the floor and then loud and horrible laughter as footsteps came down the hall.
It was Sorte's turn to scream as she lost touch with her sanity for a moment. She felt an icy prickling grip close around hers and the door was thrown open, with her attached, throwing her to the floor. Another frigid breeze swept past her and she lay on the floor for a moment.
Geron helped her to her feet while Jun-Juua pleaded to be told what was going on. The half-elf sounded on the verge of tears already and the fact that the evil, tense aura in the place was intensifying.
Sorte was shivering when the laughter started again. This time it was much much closer and it seemed to be in the same room as them.
Jun-Juua started screaming hysterically when they heard the womans voice start wailing again and the laughter continued.
"Ach! Hang on Lass! I'll save ye!" Torr growled, lifted his war axe and plunged into the hallway and the door slammed shut and locked behind him.
Geron grabbed Jun-Juua's shoulders and shook her roughly, "We've got to get out of here! Now move!"
The candles snuffed out, one by one and the room suddenly grew cold. Then, when the candlabra at the back of the dais went out it plunged the entire chapel into utter darkness and both Sorte and Geron ran as fast as they could to the door on the right side of the chapel.
They paused at the door, just able to make out Jun-Juua, sitting in the middle of the floor sobbing furiously. Sorte darted forward and grabbed Jun-Juua by the wrist and dragged her out the door with Geron's help and into the hallway, then into a store room where they slammed the door shut and bolted it before moving on.
** ** **
Torr hiccuped and looked around to get his bearings straight. He was pretty sure he'd taken the pathway on the right of the branch off of the hallway, but then again, nothing was ever certain after consuming at least three skins of rock ale and a skin of burberry wine, the hardest alcohol that the centaurs ever concocted.
His vision blurred again and he bumped up against something, "Sorry Miss...didna see ye there." he hiccuped.
A heavy hand came down on his shoulder and he brushed it aside, "I said I'm sorry. What else do ye want from me Lass? Me beard?"
The hand returned to his shoulder and dug claws into his shoulder. Shouting in surprise his hands flew up, spilling burberry wine down the back of his cloak and down the front of whatever was behind him. The thing let out a shrill cry of distress and the hand dug further into his shoulder.
Torr whirled around and looked at the 'lass' that assaulted him and choked back a shout of surprise when he realized through his drunken stupor that this was the thing that was walking along the parapets above the cemetary.
"Ach! Ye picked the wrong opponent!" Torr hiccuped and swung down with his war-axe.
It seemed to pass right through whatever was there.
Looking around frantically for another weapon all Torr found was a torch. After a moments hesitation he remembered something about alcohol being flammable, yanked the torch from it's holder on the while and sent out a spray of spittle, instantly igniting and engulfing the creature in flames.
Another piercing shriek resounded throughout the Chapel and Torr couldn't help but smirk in his haze.
** ** **
The man raised his eyelids carefully. His head throbbed as if someone had just put a mallet to a gong inside his brain. The mere buzzing noise in his head was thundering in his ears. A pure blunder-bluss. It didn't help that a bloodcurdling shriek resonated off the walls setting his very teeth on edge.
He wondered vaguely how long he'd been lying on the floor and began searching himself for all of his items. He was missing everything but a small sword clipped to his belt and the clothes on his back. He cursed the monk silently and himself for his stupidity.
The monk was the only person he'd seen since he'd arived here, around midnight, and he seemed pretty trustworthy. After all he was a quivering old man who'd been terrified at every little noise the chapel made. He even told the stranger his story, why he was all alone and how he'd come here.
It was sad really, to be duped into believing a story so phony as that of the monk. He'd supposedly been here since he was a little boy and recent events launched the place into a place of unrest for the children of the night and he'd taken refuge here in the chapel where all of his fellow
brothers had been cut down where they stood and dragged off, which explained alot of the strange little man's paranoia.
He jumped as another bloodcurdling scream resounded off the walls and the hallway off to his right lit up brilliantly and flickered as if a fire suddenly ignited. He also heard some rambling from a low gravelly voice and wondered when someone other than the monk he'd encountered had come in.
Picking himself up off the floor he dusted the back of his tunic and pants off and made the decision to investigate.
He walked around the corner and into the hall leading to the adjacent room. He saw a pile of a black cloak engulfed in flames in the center of the room and a dwarf standing near it, drinking deeply from the wine skin. The room absolutely reeked of alcohol and he realized that the dwarf had to be drunk, for the smell emanated from him.
"Ach! Laddie! Ye shouldna be here! This place fairly reeks of evil!" The dwarf said,drinking deeply from the wineskin.
**And of alcohol.** the man though wryly.
"Come! We'll away!" the dwarf laughed, pointed at the flaming mass of cloth and laughed again before saying "Tha's pure magic by th' way!"
The man couldn't help but smile.
** ** **
Outside Sorte finally let Jun-Juua stand on her own feet, though she was still sobbing hysterically and finally felt a bit more pity for the half-elf as she sank to her knees. The girl was obviously not used to violence, gore or extreme fear. Which was understandable, the girl, even though she looked as though she'd done her share of work in the sun, was remarkably pale and
though well muscled for one of her heritage she wasn't a paladin or a warrior.Geron snorted and looked down at the half-elf with a bit of disdain mixed with pity.
The doors to the cathedral were thrown open with a bang and both Geron and Sorte turned around, weapons drawn to face whatever emerged.
"God damn it, Dwarf!" Geron snapped as he lowered his weapon. "Unless you want an axe in your head or an arrow between your eyes, announce yourself!"
Torr laughed, "Ach, Laddie, if I dinna keep you on yer toes who will?"
"That freaky guy in that damn cathedral! That's who!" Jun-Juua sobbed.
Torr looked over at her, "I'd imagine that her pants be a bit damp."
"Lay off, wouldya?" Sorte snorted, "Hell, my pants are a bit damp too! Holy mother of gods, what the fuck is wrong with that church?"
"Be damned if I know." Geron said, then, "Torr, who's that?"
Torr laughed and hauled the man he'd found in the cathedral out into the open.
"I dinna know his name, but he showed up just as I defeated a blasted incoporeal!"
"You?! Defeat an incoporeal?! As drunk as you are?! I don't believe it for a minute!" Jun-Juua sniffed disdainfully.
"Ach! Lassie, I know yer scared, but dinna be rude! I be tellin' the truth!" Torr sang.
"Whatever! Question is, what now? I'm not going back into that hell pit." Sorte said.
"I think I see a light on over there." the man beside Torr said and pointed toward the keep.
"I think we ought to go to the keep then. Maybe there'll be someone there to give us directions away from this damned pit." Sorte shrugged.
"I second the motion." Jun-Juua sniffed, wiping the remaineder of her tears away with the back of her sleeve and standing in a fluid motion.
"I suppose, since the girls want to go there they'll need protection and I'm not that eager to stay here either." Geron said. "So I vote to pass."
"Ach! Then 'tis unanimous!" Torr hiccuped.
* ** **
**Author's Note: Okay, this is a bit cliche, but I'm writing this based off an RPG that is *still* in
the process by the way. *With my bud's permission of course.* So I think I should give yall some background. It was a Halloween game that our DM came up with, a mix of Dungeons and Drragons and Call of Cthulu, of course he did just get the "Book of Vile Darkness" so he's been thrusting stuff in there from time to time.* I told him we needed a sex cult and he said no, Lol!*
It'll get wierder as I go, and I might wind up changing some parts because some idget DM hasn't given me a general map yet, or a basic synopsis, so I'm doing it mainly from memory.
Torr, is played by Nathan, and he's always drunk, being a dwarf and all, and he's constantly talking about his grandson, Piete Wuz Guud Keunig, from Beowulf. So please pardon all the cheesy parodies, I'll try to keep them from being to massive.
Sorte, is played by Kasi. She's one of two sane people in the party, aside from Justin and Aaron. Aaron you can't really count as sane because he wears alien masks and plays the harmonica through it's nose, but that's beyond the point. Her character, Sorte, is pretty logical about the way she does things, and she likes to throw in subtle insults to the dwarf and constantly as them turned around into stories about Torr's grandson. Her favorite word has to be "Shit" *Oh, Kasi, if you're reading this, please leave a review and tell me what you think of it so far*
Geron is played by Justin, he's the other of the sane people. His character is very strong, and very hardheaded, and he thinks Torr is a raving idiot and thus protects both Sorte and Jun-Juua from the results of Torr's actions and sometimes from Torr himself. He's got strong moral concepts and is basically the co-leader of the party along with Sorte. Geron also seems to enjoy listening and occasionally joining in on Jun-Juua's insult-parties on Torr.
The anonymous man in the Cathedral is played by Aaron, and he won't play many other chars. in the story line I don't think. Anyways, he's the nut who plays the harmonica with his nose and his character likes to make offhanded remarks.
Jun-Juua is played by me. And she wasn't meant to be seen as a cry baby, she does become rather valuable later in the story. She obviously doesn't like Torr and insults him at every opportunity. She gets along well with Geron and Sorte except when Torr talks to her. Unlike the other two she doesn't try to hide her insults, but rather say them loud and say them proud, even though she was raised by her elven brethren to not believe in pride and use tact when speaking.
Of course, the DM was Miles. And I think I better give this a rest. So R&R peepz, I hope you liked the story so far and want to read the next chapter.