The trail they walked on ran westwards for half a mile, before ending at the edge of a cliff. Below them was a sea of tree tops melting away into the horizon.
Deft glanced over the edge of the cliff. The forest floor was over one hundred feet below. He turned to Twix with a pained smile.
"I'm afraid we have no rope, Twix. We can't possibly climb down this cliff without one."
The bard grinned. "We don't need to. Let's just scout along the edge of the cliff to see if there's an easier way down."
Twix led them south along the edge of the drop, and they soon found a place where the slope wasn't so severe. They slipped and slid down the bare, rocky face, and soon reached the bottom.
"Now," said the halfling, "the sisters told me that this particular ogre lives in a cave, with a wooden door.
Bloom frowned. "On ogre with a front door? I've never heard of the like."
"Neither have I," Ganth said. "But that makes me feel even stronger that the ogre is in league with these hobgoblins. They might have fashioned a door for him in exchange for his aid."
"These goons always stick together," the halfling laughed.
"So what's the plan," Bloom asked sweetly. "Go up, knock on the door, and ask if Mister Ogre can come out and play? What if he just refuses to open the door?"
"I intend to do just that," the dwarf said. "Pounding on an ogre's door will always bring him out. Plus we shall be shouting the most grievous insults to an ogre's ears. If that fails to bring him out to play, nothing will."
Twix shrugged. "It's as good a plan as any. Although wouldn't it be funny is someone knocked on his door, then we all hid? The ogre would be staring around like a dummy wondering what was going on!"
They reached the cave, which lay underneath an overhang of rock. The wide opening yawned into darkness. Deft stepped close to the door and unsheathed his sword, igniting it. The flames from the blade illuminated the area, revealing a fifteen foot wide entryway narrowing to a ten foot wall complete with a wooden door banded in iron. The door was presently closed.
Bloom clapped the dwarf on the back. "You want I should pick the lock now?"
"No. Everyone get into position, about forty paces back from the cave mouth. That way he can't rush us, and the archers can fire at him if he attacks. I'm going to pound on the door, and run back here to stand with you all."
They all got into position, their weapons out and ready. Runt pulled out a handful of cobwebs in one hand and held an egg in the other.
Ganth went up to the door, shouting and pounding mightily. He ran back to take up a position to Deft's right. The fighter had his bow ready with an arrow nocked. The dwarf lifted his shield and mace. Bloom and Runt stood behind and to the left of these two, with the bard a little to their left, his bow bent and ready to fire.
The cleric touched the holy symbol hanging around his neck, and bowed his head, chanting praises to the Mother, asking her to bless their efforts on this field of battle. Deft expected to see some visual effects of the spell, but nothing happened. He recalled a priest he knew from Verdun who said that magic-user magic was often showy and impressive to the eye, whereas clerical magic was more subtle.
A minute later, they heard the door creak open on its rusting hinges, and a monstrous form emerged from the cave mouth.
The ogre stood nine feet tall, and weighed nearly seven hundred pounds. His skin was a pale yellow, and his face was a face even a mother couldn't bring herself to love. He was clad in a shirt of a multitude of different animal hides clumsily sewn together. In his huge hand he clutched a knotty club that looked capable of smashing a man's skull in a single blow.
Deft had never fought an ogre before, and he felt the specter of fear grab hold of his heart and squeeze. He forced himself to calm down. He was here, with stout friends at his side. It was five against one. He would be safe. They would win this battle.
The ogre stopped upon seeing the group standing before his home. He raised his club, and scowled at them fiercely.
"What you want anyway? You knock at door, I come! You call me nasty names, ugly dwarf! What you want?"
"The hobgoblins sent us," Ganth called loudly. "We are part of the Broken Skull tribe, but we cannot find the monastery. We were hoping you could point us in the right direction."
The ogre's scowl deepened, and his muscles flexed. "Me could do that. Me also hungry today. Me not eat so good in so many days."
"You know," Twix said to the ogre. "I had a cousin who got eaten by an ogre once. He said it tasted like chicken. The ogre said, I mean. Not my cousin. He couldn't say anything, because he was dead."
The ogre glared at the bard. "Me hungry. Me eat you now!"
The monster roared at them and raised his club. Deft forced all thoughts out of his mind except for surviving this fight.
The brute moved quickly, for one so large. Before the fighter could react, the ogre was upon him, the massive club slamming down on his left shoulder. Deft felt an explosion of pain, and heard the bones snapping and cracking. The blow felt like someone had dropped a ton of rocks onto him. His knees buckled, and he nearly fell to the ground. He was dimly aware of the magic-user circling around from the left, and two arrows shooting from the bard's bow. The first one struck the ogre in the pectoral muscle, but the pain barely registered in the monster's small brain.
Then Ganth was beside him, swinging his mighty mace, forcing the ogre's attention away from Deft.
Bloom was moving around the ogre's right side, most likely to flank him, which was a trick that thieves often employed. The ogre howled, clipping Ganth's head with his club. The dwarf spun and reeled, but managed to keep on his feet. Blood poured down the dwarf's face. He looked severely injured. It was a miracle the blow hadn't killed him. But dwarfs were tough, and their small size gave them an advantage in fighting the much larger ogres.
Deft swung his sword at the ogre, but the brute blocked it with his massive club. Runt chanted a spell, causing two streaks of silver energy to fly from his outstretched hand and strike the ogre full in the face. The monster howled, blinking his eyes in pain and confusion, momentarily breaking off his attack on the human and the dwarf. But that moment quickly passed, and the ogre raised his club again, roaring in unabashed fury. Two more of Twix's arrows struck him, one in the stomach, and one in the neck. Ganth yelled a dwarfish war cry, and struck with his mace. The weapon connected, smashing into the brute's gut.
Suddenly, the ogre screamed, a horrible, wailing bellow, and toppled over forwards, nearly falling on Deft and Ganth. Behind him stood Bloom, her short sword red with blood up to the hilt. She grinned fiercely at the two.
"Aren't you going to say thank you?"
Normally, Deft would have appreciated the thief's humor, but now, he could think of nothing but the pain. He sank to the ground, his head bowed to the earth. Next to him, Ganth groaned in agony.
"They're hurt!" Bloom cried to Runt and Twix. "Bard, you said you had healing berries?"
"Of course!"
The halfling opened his belt pouch. He had taken two dozen off the bush, and now handed six of them to Bloom. She quickly forced the fighter and the dwarf to eat them.
"The sisters told me a strange story about the plants that I got these from, about how an ancient cleric had once spilled a Potion of Healing at the base of the raspberry bushes. These berries are supposed to have healing properties. Now we'll find out if that story is true, or just a myth."
"It is true," Ganth said, getting to his feet. He gingerly felt the top of his skull. "My head was split wide open, and now the wound is all but healed. I just need to wash off all this blood."
Bloom helped Deft to his feet, and the fighter responded to her query.
"I'm all right, now. Those berries are indeed magical. My shoulder was smashed to pieces, and now I feel as good as I did before the battle. Twix, hold onto the rest of those berries!"
"I will, and there are still a dozen left on the bush, if we need them. The sisters told me to take as many as I thought I would need, but I didn't want to be greedy. But I am sure they wouldn't mind if we took the rest."
"We shall soon ask them, to be sure," said the dwarf.
"And speaking of the sisters, our mission is a success. All we have to do is bring back the ogre's head. The sisters had also promised to heal my injuries, but the berries have taken care of that."
Bloom's eyes lit up. "They may have some other payment to give, seeing as how we killed their ogre for them. Right, Runt?"
The goblin smiled, his eyes watering up. "Yes. Perhaps they have scrolls or potions, if one of them is a magic-user, as the halfling claims."
"She is that indeed," said Twix. "She showed me her magic wand. And the other sister is a cleric, and she has a Staff of Healing."
"Then let us be off to see these sisters," Ganth said. "After we explore this ogre's cave, that is. It is my guess that it is brimming with treasure."
Twix retrieved his arrows from the ogre's corpse, and found the one in the grass that had missed its mark. Bloom eagerly led the way to the door, while the others stood guard, in case more ogres lived inside. The thief tried to push open the door, but something blocked it.
"Pick the lock," Ganth suggested.
The thief turned around and glared at him. "There's no lock to pick! It feels like it's barred from the inside!"
"It must just be stuck," said the dwarf. "The ogre could not get through the door, and also bar it from the inside. It is not possible."
"There might be some others in there," Twix suggested. "A whole family of ogres."
The dwarf glanced shrewdly at the halfling. "The bard is probably right. I do not wish to fight any more of these monsters, if we do not have to. I am lucky to be alive. And this is not doing anything to help us find my nephew. Leave the door. We shall take the ogre's head back to these sisters, and see if they can tell us where to find the monastery."
No one disagreed with the cleric's suggestion. Deft took on the unsavory job of hacking the ogre's head off, and Ganth carried it by the hair. They made their way back to the sisters' clearing, and Twix led the way to the door of the cottage.
The bard knocked loudly, and soon, the door opened, revealing the two mysterious sisters.
They were both gray-haired and plump, with pleasant faces and easy smiles. They wore plain, home-spun dresses, and wore white aprons. One of them had a golden ring with a sapphire gem on her finger, and the other a rolling pin thrust into her belt. They welcomed Twix warmly, and extended the welcome to his new friends. Their eyes lingered upon the head of the ogre.
"My my, this is so exciting! So you've completed the quest, and slain the ogre! Would you like to come in for more tea and spice cake?"
Ganth bowed in dwarfish fashion. "We would indeed, my good ladies."
"Our names are Rosalinda and Rosabella. But you may call us Linda and Bella, for short."
The party made their introductions, and the sisters turned to lead the way into their home.
Ganth dropped the ogre head into the grass outside the door. As the cleric walked past Deft, he shot him a sideways glance that told the fighter to stay on his guard. Deft had no intention of letting his defenses lag. Regardless of how well these oldsters had gotten on with the halfling, he wasn't about to trust them blindly. They could always have ulterior motives behind the easy smiles and eager assistance.
The sisters moved back into the cottage. Even though the building was only twenty feet square, the party found themselves standing in a room that was twice that size. Deft exchanged a quizzical glance with Runt, and the fighter could see that the magic-user was fiercely pondering this strange situation.
Two hallways led off this foyer, and the ladies led them down one of these, past a sweeping staircase that led to a second floor, and into a large, comfortable parlor. Many fine paintings, gold and silver ornaments, and bejeweled knickknacks decorated the finely-furnished room. Deft found himself wondering about the source of the sisters' wealth. Did they indeed make a rich living by selling the goods of the victims they lured into their obviously magical home? The fighter figured they would soon found out. He just hoped the party wasn't being led into a trap, one which they could have avoided, if they had just had more sense about trusting these two strange women.
In the center of the room stood a large table, surrounded by plush chairs. The five dropped their packs and gear to the floor, seating themselves at the table and making themselves comfortable. The sisters left the room.
"Do not eat anything," Ganth whispered harshly. "I am going to say a prayer that will determine whether or not these two are evil. If I nod my head, it is safe to eat and drink. If I do not, then we must beat a hasty retreat out of this place."
Twix shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I already told you these two were okay. They didn't kill me, as far as I can tell."
The sisters returned with a boiling kettle of tea and a plate of spice cake. As they were serving their guests, Ganth bowed his head and touched the holy symbol around his neck. He whispered softly, then gazed upon the sisters.
The dwarf could see their auras, and they indicated the sisters were neither good nor evil, lawful nor chaotic. The cleric had a choice to make. Should he trust them or not? He glanced at the bard. Twix had claimed he'd eaten with them this very morning. It seemed unlikely that they would have let him live before only to try to kill him now. Ganth had to make a decision, and he had to make it now. His life, and the lives of the other four members of his party, depending upon him making the right choice.
Soon all the guests were served. Twix ate and drank with the sisters, but the others waited, glancing around uncomfortably and casting furtive glances at the dwarf.
"What is the matter, my dears?" asked Linda. "Do you not like tea and cake?"
Bloom was about to come up with a lame excuse, when Ganth nodded his head.
"Not at all," Deft smiled at the ladies. "We were just saying our prayers."
The tea and cake tasted just like normal tea and cake to Deft, and after a few minutes, he relaxed his guard, assuming that these two old ladies might just be that, two oldsters living alone in the middle of a hill infested with hobgoblins, as ridiculous at that seemed. As they ate, the woman chatted pleasantly about the weather, their beautiful flower gardens, and the woods around the Hill. Deft felt it was time to get down to business, and Bloom obviously felt the same way.
"I want to thank you two for the fine refreshment," the thief smiled. "But I am wondering something. Several somethings, actually. As a matter of fact, I have quite a few questions for you two. If you'd answer, and answer truthfully, you'll find that we can be trusted allies."
The two ladies glanced at each other and smiled primly. "Yes, dear," said Rosalinda, "go ahead and ask your questions. But we could probably save you the effort, and answer them before you ask them. You see, I am a magic-user, and Bella here is a cleric. We've lived on this Hill for decades, long before the monsters came. Does that answer any of your questions?"
"It does, actually. So you're telling us that you are not allied with the hobgoblins that roam this place?"
The sisters frowned in distaste. "Of course not. Uncivilized beasts, the hobgoblins. They leave us alone, now. We had to teach them a lesson or two, when they first moved into this area. Now they give us quite a wide berth. The ogre used to as well, but then he got more bold. I'm sure Twix here has told you why we wanted to have him…er…removed?"
"I did," the halfling nodded. "And now that we've killed him, my new friends were hoping that you could give them some information."
"I don't know about giving information away," said Bella.
"Information is knowledge, indeed," said Linda.
"And knowledge is power," said Bella.
"And power is a commodity in this day and age."
"And nobody gets something for nothing, these days, I'm afraid. It's just the way the world is going now, isn't it?"
Bloom laughed. "We get the picture, ladies. You have answers. We have questions. But it will cost us."
"I have a question, if I may be so bold," Runt blurted out, his eyes watering so that tears ran down his orange cheeks. The sisters fixed him with polite smiles, as the magic-user's eyes wandered about the large room.
"How is it that your house appears only twenty feet square from the outside, but from the interior, seems to be a two-story mansion? Have you employed some kind of illusory magic?"
"Ahh, you must be a magic-user as well," Bella laughed. "Yes, indeed, we had a friend of hours cast a Permanent Image spell on the outside of our mansion, when the monsters came. We figured we'd make a less interesting target, if we appeared to be just two simple county girls."
Ganth glanced up at the old women. "And what do you normally appear to be? Where did you get all your wealth, if I might ask?"
"You certainly may, Sir Ganth. We have no secrets from friends. We were adventurers, back in the day. Made quite a fortune at it, too. We've been retired for quite some time, now, but we've been able to supplement our income whenever visitors come calling."
"What happened to these visitors?" Deft asked. "The rumors in Fort Gaston are that no one who has ever walked the slopes of the Hill has ever been seen again."
The sisters frowned. "We do get groups of adventurers now and then, and we sell them what information we know. They always go off, and it's true that we never saw any of them again. But I assure you, we had nothing to do with their disappearance. Most of them go off after the hobgoblins, and they probably all met with a most unpleasant end, if they tangled with those ruffians."
"When we first landed on the Hill," said the dwarf. "A party of hobs attacked us. But we made short work of them."
The room went silent as the thoughts of the party went to the hateful menace of the hobgoblins.