Of Moustaches and Magical Dice
Prologue
The air that came out of the deep well was icy cold and foul smelling when the kender peered over the edge. He recoiled in disgust, pressing his sleeve against his mouth and shook his head.
"Nothing?" the half-elf asked and ventured some steps forward to look into the darkness that lay below. It was not that he did not trust the kender's sharp eyes but he had to see for himself to soothe his growing agitation. He kicked a small rock into the well that was more of a hole in the ground than a real well. They listened to the noise the stone made until it faded.
"I can't see anything. Appears empty to me. Aside from the smell, that is," the kender rubbed his nose and stepped away, a bit disappointed.
"This doesn't seem right." A knight, clad in an old fashioned Solamnic armor, stepped forward, his fingers twirling around his moustache. He looked doubtful.
"Well, if you don't trust me, see for yourself," the kender made an inviting gesture towards the well.
"I'd rather not. The mage might push me in."
"Oh please," a figure, hiding in the shadows of great pillars, snorted.
"Never mind him. Get away from there, er, Tas!" the bearded half-elf ordered. Since they had reached this place, he had had an uneasy feeling. At least the woods had been alive, but these abandoned ruins gave him the creeps though he could not for the life of him figure out why. He suspected it was the well. Besides, everything was too quiet. That was never a good sign.
The half-elf was distracted from his musings when four figures emerged from around the remaining walls of a building. He made quick way over ancient boulders, hoping they had found a clue in the relief carvings of where they were. Before he could utter his questions, however, one of the four spoke up. He was a tall man, taller than most, clad in leather and the skins of animals, marking him as a member of the plainsmen.
"Nuttin' of worth, 'm sorry, mate."
The half-elf frowned and looked down at the old dwarf, who shook is head in return. "I could not read the runes either."
"Blast!" Disappointment was written all over the half-elf's face and he began to pace, staring uneasily at the well. "Anything else? What about that building?" He pointed north to a single building. It was the only one which stood whole, its outer walls worn by time and weather.
The dwarf opened his mouth, but he was interrupted by a young woman, similar in looks to the barbarian. With her she carried a blue crystal staff.
"Hey, looks like the mage found something."
"I have a name, you know!"
"I hope it's something good. The last time he waved us over was because he couldn't get into his robes properly," the last of the four murmured grumpily. He was a strong, handsome man in his early twenties and despite his young age a well seasoned warrior.
Together they went over to where the mage was perched in front of a tremendous obelisk, which lay beside its broken pedestal base. In his hand he held a plain book. As the others arrived, he looked up from his notes.
"What is it now?"
"No reason to be so snotty, dear cousin," the mage said, offended, and got up. He dusted off his red robes and stretched his limbs after squatting so long in front of the obelisk. Ignoring the dark looks, he answered the question.
"It was like fucking awesome, I cast a-"
"Yes, yes, get on with it. What did you find?"
"Oh you,…very well then. It seems we're in Xak Tsaroth," he stumbled over the name, over pronouncing several syllables. "I am not sure if the translation is correct, but either way, I am quite sure I got it."
"What exactly does it say?" the young woman asked, leaning forward, golden hair falling into her face.
"Er… 'The Great City of Zzzahk T'sarnoth whose… botey? Ah, beauties-ur rounds-ju, speaks to the good of its people' and their… gen…jen… generous! …Deeds. The gods reward us in the graceofurhome.'"
Silence.
"What?"
He sighed. "'The Great City of-"
"No, you idiot! We didn't catch it the first time!"
The dwarf leaned close to the half-elf and whispered, "He's our wizard?"
"Gimme that!" The barbarian snatched the book from the wizard's hands. "I…" He squinted, turning the book around, his head moving with it, "Where did you learn to write? Scratch that, did you ever even learn to write? It looks like a spider crawled across the page and died!"
"You cannot possibly comprehend my brilliant intellect, my notes are prefect!"
The companions just stared at their spellcaster.
"You mean perfect?" the plainswoman suggested.
"Oh…yes. Exactly. Prrrrfect…like a cat."
"We're so screwed," the warrior moaned to himself. "Here, give me that. I can read his scrawl, I grew up with him."
"Ah, well then, here you go." The tall man handed him the book. He repeated the translation for the others, who gave a collective "aaah," in understanding.
"It's a start," the half-elf said with more enthusiasm than he felt. He turned around to see where the kender was. Perhaps the city was marked on one of her,…his many maps.
They found the kender in front of the well, tossing pebbles into its bottomless depth. The mage was the first one to reach him, for he could be very quick when he wanted to.
"Stop this foolishness," he hissed, grabbing the kender's wrist, "Have you not seen Lord of the Rings? Never, ever toss shit into wells and lakes. You never know what creatures' slumber you might disturb!"
"Don't be ridiculous." The kender rubbed his hurting wrist and the faint imprints of the mage's fingernails away, after the haggard man had finally released his grip.
"No, he has a point. Who knows what dwells down there," The warrior peered over the edge. He had not been here when they had first inspected the well. Together with the dwarf and the two barbarians he had explored the surrounding area as well as possible between all the boulders and broken pillars.
"Rats?" the young woman offered. She kept her distance from the stone edge. It was a very long drop…
"I can't see how rats would survive this horrible stench."
"Mutation," the mage nodded wisely.
"Like Master Splinter?"
"Not exactly what I meant, but sure." The conversation quickly declined into an argument about whether rats could survive the smell over radioactivity.
"Shut up, all of you! This is serious! You're gonna get us killed!" the half-elf yelled, interrupting. He took a breath to calm himself and tried to get the situation back into some semblance of order. "I suggest we should…Pam! I told you to stay away from there!"
"But I think I can hear something," the kender said defensively, dropping the stones he had been coveting.
They all fell quiet and listened. There was a low whistling they had not noticed before, a change of cold air coming out of the well. Taking a step away from it, the half-elf cast a worried look at the others. The whistling grew louder into a high shriek and they had to cover their ears.
"I have a bad feeling about this," the knight yelled over the noise.
There was a sudden rumbling, upsetting some of the lighter boulders and the mage fell to his knees as the ground began to shake violently. Clutching his Staff of Magius, he stared in horror as a black beast shot from the well, flapping its huge wings. The knight was pointing at it, screaming.
Then everything went pitch dark.
How did we get ourselves into this mess, again? he wondered briefly before the Solamnic's words finally reached his ears.
"Dude, it's a fucking dragon!"