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"I tell you, he's dead, Jimar! There is nothing I can do for him
now." The speaker was female, and definitely human. She sounded quite
agitated and unhappy.
"So what are we to do now? Without a warrior, we've no chance of
staying alive down here," whined a male voice.
"It's all your fault, Lakr," raved a second female. "I told you not
to touch that chest. If it weren't for your greedy hands we would never
have fallen through that trap door and Anderg would still be alive."
Aristo considered the voices as he listened. Anderg must be the
unfortunate chap who had bit the dust. Whoever the second female was, she
sounded rather overly distraught. Perhaps she had had an exceptionally
close relationship with this Anderg? Humans were like that. They seldom
troubled themselves to think with the heads upon their shoulders.
"Be calm, Jimar," interrupted the first female. "Hysterics will do
us no good. We must find a way out of this place as soon as we can."
"But we can't just leave him here like that. I've heard tales of
those in your order who can return the dead to life. Surely we can get
one of them to help one so noble as Anderg?"
Yes, Jimar was very certainly in love with Anderg. Love did have a
strong tendency to dash any measure of reason from one's brain, especially
those as feeble in the brainpan as humans.
"Be reasonable, Jimar. We cannot carry him with us. We would
certainly not be able to escape from these tunnels alive if we were to
try."
"Damn you, Merikaht! I will not permit him to be left here like
that. He deserves so much better!"
"You heard her, we can't take him with us," added the male, Lakr.
"If we tried you'd end up joining him in death, and I have not wish to die
any time soon."
"Maybe that would be better. Without Anderg, I have no reason to
remain alive."
Aristobulus raised one eyebrow in surprise. A human showing a trace
of intelligent behavior? Most amazing. He had never thought to meet
another who was smart enough to realize life was not worth living.
Certainly not a human, at least.
"You must try to be sensible, Jimar. Your thoughts are..."
"But we don't need to take him with us," Lakr broke in. "We can
leave his body here. We can hide it someplace and return for him later.
We've found enough gold and gems to pay a whole platoon of guardsmen to
come with us and recover his remains. Then you can have him brought back
to life by some high priest or other. Right, Merikaht?"
"Err... Yes, of course, it is an excellent idea. That secret
compartment should be large enough to hold him. No one will find him
there, and we can come back for him when we have enough warriors to
protect us," improvised Merikaht.
This Lakr was a crafty devil. Aristo could already tell that Lakr
had no such intention of risking his neck for a corpse. He was only
interested in getting his backside out of these caverns, like any other
cravenly humanoid. From the other side of the door, he could hear Jimar
finally give her reluctant approval to the idea, even though her sense of
propriety made her reluctant to shove her beloved's corpse into a hole in
the wall.
He heard them grunting as they shifted some heavy weight around, and
there was the screech of metal on stone. Whatever Anderg had been, it
must have included being very large and clad in a great deal of metal
armor. No wonder he had been killed; wearing lots of armor slowed Ari
down so much that he always ended up getting smashed to pieces, no matter
how much protection his armor rendered him. He preferred his own
sorcerous armor. It was much more to his liking. Which reminded him, he
would have to find someplace to rest pretty soon so he could gather enough
strength to restore that spell.
Then the sound of footsteps approaching the door from the other side
sent Aristo hastening back into the semi-circular room to conceal himself
beside the arched portal. He had no intention of giving away his presence
just yet. It would be more useful for him to follow them at a distance,
watching what they did in their explorations. It might just turn out to
be educational.
Light glared from the arch as they opened the door. There was some
consternation on the part of the trio of humans as they discovered the
door was partially open. Too bad Aristo had not had the chance to close
the door before scooting back through the arch. However, once they found
that there was no one in the passageway, their worries faded away. Could
this trio be that foolish as to suspect themselves to be alone simply
because they could perceive no one? No wonder they had such problems in
this subterranean realm. Aristo was curious as to what further blunders
they would make. This could become quite interesting if the trio were as
half-witted as they were acting.
The trio of humans cautiously proceeded up the corridor away from
Aristobulus, whispering amongst themselves, their light glaring out for
anyone to see. And Aristo thought himself to have been foolhardy. But of
course the light was forgivable. Or at least understandable. They were
humans, and hence lacked the elven ability to see in the dark. Otherwise,
they were demonstrating themselves to be walking targets just waiting for
someone to pop up and use them for target-practice.
Once the light had faded, Aristo glanced around the arch. He could
see the light still glowing around a corner some distance up the passage.
He quickly snuck up the passageway to the corner. If nothing else, this
was a safe way of exploring these tunnels. These fools would either trip
any traps they might come across, or get assaulted by some hostile group
of dungeon denizens, thus allowing Aristo to become aware of the dangers
beforehand.
At the corner of the passage, he saw the receding light of their
torches fading around another bend. He moved to this next corner and saw
the light fading around yet another bend in the passage. What manner of
imbecile conceived of these ill-gotten designs? Shaking his head, be
proceeded down the jog in the passage to the last bend.
As he was starting to peek round the corner, some gravel crunched
under his toes. He cursed himself for the blunder. It was the imbeciles
he was following who were supposed to be making the mistakes. And it was
evident that they had heard him, as they paused and started speaking to
each other in stage whispers, inquiring one another what to do. Perhaps
he had underestimated them. Perhaps they were even bigger idiots than he
had suspected.
But before they had an opportunity to decide what to do about the
sound behind them, the trio of humans were disturbed by a sudden ranting
gibbering ahead of them. Aristo stood where he was, listening to the
abrupt battle. There were screams of fear and groans of pain. In
moments, however, the sounds of battle died down.
Aristo looked down the corridor. There were a number of humanoid
bodies scattered over the floor, and but a single one remained standing.
The figure was a female human dressed in chainmail armor, bearing a shield
and a mace. Noticing the new arrival by the light of her fallen torch,
the woman faced Aristo, ready to for another fight.
When the shadowy form at the end of the passage made no move, she
called out, "Who are you?"
"A traveller," responded Aristobulus cryptically. He saw no need to
reveal any more than necessary.
When the woman remained in her wary combat-stance, Aristo commented,
"I see you've met some of the more hospitable locals."
"You call them hospitable? They murdered my friends." She sounded
to not be in the mood for levity. And from the timbre of her voice, Ari
assumed she was the one named Merikaht. He had believed she was a healer
or priestess of some sort. With her attire, he now assumed she was a
warrior-preistess, the type most likely to let their weapons do their
thinking for them.
"Surely you knew of that danger when you descended into these
caverns."
"We thought ourselves strong enough to face any danger. We were
fools." Obviously. "But we made the mistake of coming too deep into
these passages."
"One learns from one's mistakes. So maybe you will not repeat that
mistake."
"I doubt I will live to have the chance." Peering into the gloom of
Aristo's cloak, she inquired, "You are an elf, are you not?"
"Not by my own choice." Merikaht evidenced some surprise at Ari's
response. Changing the subject, Aristo prompted, "Have you been in these
tunnels for long?"
"Hours. Maybe even a day. I can't tell." Her weariness was
apparent, but there was a slightly hopeful look in her face. "Would you
know of a way out of these dungeons? I can pay you handsomely to show me
the way out of here."
"I have no intention of leaving. My goal lies deeper in these
tunnels, forwards, not backwards."
"Believe me, there is only death down here," she warned, momentarily
glancing at her dead companions. The man was dressed in simple leather
armor, while the female wore the robes of a wizard -- not exactly
appropriate garb for exploring these caverns. "I know of no treasure that
would make the dangers of this place worth facing."
"Wisdom is the treasure I seek. It is far more valuable to me than
mere coins and jewelry."
"Unless you are a great hero, I assure you, you will be slain ere you
find any wisdoms in this place. I can give you all the wisdom you will
ever find down here: turn back before you too are slain." She looked at
him hopefully, proposing, "Together, perchance the two of us could find
our way out of these tunnels?"
"I have said my intentions are to seek out the hidden wisdoms reputed
to be concealed in these myriad tunnels. I cannot lead you out of here.
Our paths lead in opposite directions."
"Then you will die in this foolish quest of yours."
"Death is of no consequence to me. I would gladly embrace him before
returning to the world above. Perhaps you would care to join me in my
search for Death? No? I thought not."
"Then I am doomed to die in these cursed caverns, just as have my
friends."
How positively depressing. Aristo recognized he would have no
enjoyment travelling with such a companion. And he would certainly not
bother himself to take this mere child by hand and guide her out of this
realm. He quickly gave Merikaht directions on how to find her way back up
to the previous level, informing her of a probable route from there to the
stairwell to the upper world. But once past the refuse room she would
have to pass through orc-land.
"I can handle orcs. Apollo will protect me." She reverently touched
the symbol of Apollo hanging from her neck.
How drear. So she was definitely a priestess. "He seems to have not
done such a good job thus far," jibed Aristobulus as he brushed past her
to examine the carnage of the battle. The humanoids who had assaulted the
party of humans were of no race Aristo recognized. But then, he was
getting used to that.
Merikaht bristled at the blatant insinuation, considering bashing in
the skull of this heathen elf. However, she decided it would be more
judicious to save her wrath for the orcs that were in her path out of this
cursed underground world.
Aristo sneered as the human began saying some ridiculous words over
the remains of her friends. They were dead. What did it matter to them
what was said or not said about them? He turned and continued on down the
passage to the room at its end. This disarrayed room was presumably the
lair of the humanoids who had slain the humans. All that was in this room
that concerned Aristo were the two doors. However, he still tarried in
the room for some time until he was certain that the priestess had left.
Returning to the scene of the battle, he saw the two humans had been
arranged in some ceremonial manner. Luckily, Merikaht had not burdened
herself with the possessions of her friends. That was good. He rifled
the female mage's belongings, tugging the huge spell book free from her
pack. It easily outsized Aristo's own simple book of spells. These
humans must have made every mistake they could conceive.
Stuffing the spellbook into his pack, he returned to the humanoids'
lair, selecting one of the doors. He would need to find a safe place to
rest. Someplace where he could remain undisturbed as he studied Jimar's
spellbook. This door revealed a smaller room with three other doors.
Definitely not a safe place to rest.
One of these doors took him down a short passage that intersected
with a cross-passage. Walking down the passage in one direction, he
passed up a side-tunnel heading back in the direction he had come from.
The passage eventually led him around a bend and down a side-passage that
doubled-back on itself, ending at a locked door. Well, that was easily
fixed. Ari knelt before the door, digging a set of lockpicks out of one
boot. He had always loved cracking locks. It had been a favorite hobby
of his for a long time, ever since he had been old enough to realize that
a locked door often concealed something highly interesting. This lock was
of amazing complexity. It was heavily reinforced, and was certainly one
of the best he had every seen. There was even a small device designed to
thrust a needle into the fingers of anyone attempting to open the lock
with anything other than the correct key. A poisoned needle? How blase.
But that did not stop him from disengaging the needle and the locking
mechanism.
When he pushed the door open, the bolt of a crossbow shot over his
head to shatter against the wall behind him. Good thing he had not stood
up before opening the door. Ari rolled into the room, drawing both sword
and dagger and he looked around for his assailant as he squinted his eyes
against the brightness of the lamp across the room.
Next to the lamp, a tall human was tossing aside her crossbow and
unsheathing her sword. "Go away and leave me in peace, elf, or you will
regret it for the rest of your days," she warned as she started to circle
Aristobulus.
"Sorry, lass, but I would rather stay and chat awhile." Taking the
sword blow aimed at his head as a negative answer, Aristo plunged his
dagger into her side. The woman drew back, emitting a beastial growl
while Ari leaped out of range of her weapon. She hurled her sword at him,
but he easily evaded the unusual attack.
He was starting to move in on her when she ripped open the tunic she
wore. Even though she had very nice attributes, what caught Ari's
attention was the fact that the dagger wound had bled very little, and
appeared to be almost entirely healed. That was not good. He glanced at
his dagger. There was indeed blood on it. He was not in the mood to
fight some demon. Especially since although his sword was of a silver
alloy, silver would not affect many demonic creatures.
When he turned his attention back to the woman, she was in the midst
of tearing off her clothing. Long brown and silver hair was growing all
over her exposed flesh, and her face was shifting its shape, beginning to
look more wolf-like. That was even worse. She must be some manner of
werebeast, probably a werewolf. Aristo liked the idea of being bitten by
a werewolf even less than getting killed. He would definitely have to be
very careful and very quick in slaying this opponent. He had no intention
of ending up like her. Fortuitously, his silvered sword would affect a
werebeast.
As the werewolf stood fully transformed before him, Aristo realized
his mistake in pausing while she had been changing her form. During the
transition he would have had an advantage. Now, he was in real trouble.
But he had the advantage of being armed. But all she needed was to bite
him, and then his troubles would really begin. He charged her, landing a
slight cut with his sword as she attempted to get her claws on him.
Though it was a small cut, the werewolf howled in pain as the silver in
his blade reacted with her lycanthropic nature.
Ari ducked away from her claws, slashing her forearm as he did so.
There was another howl and the werewolf leaped towards Aristo in a move
that would have amazed him had it not triggered some primal fear instinct
in him. Reacting without conscious thought, Ari scrambled backwards,
stumbling and falling as the werewolf landed on him. Her claws sank into
his neck, but they did no more, for the werewolf had also landed on Ari's
outstretched sword.
Rolling out from under the dying werewolf, Aristo assumed a defensive
posture in case she should find the strength to attack him again.
However, the werewolf was slowly changing back into her human shape.
Aristo rolled her over onto her back, pulling his sword from her chest.
The blade had come close to her heart, if it had not in fact punctured
that organ.
He watched her eyes as she died. They showed confusion and maybe
some happiness. That was understandable -- as a werebeast, she would have
had no control over either the transformation or her actions when in the
wereshape. What few tales Aristo knew of werebeasts told him it was not a
pleasant experience. To have no control over one own's actions was
obviously a distressing way of life, especially to Aristo, who had a
tendency to lose control of himself when gripped by powerful emotions. No
wonder she had attacked him and tried to drive him off. She would have
known that she could inflict her curse upon others, which explained why
her door had such a complex lock. She had truly wished to be left alone.
Aristo picked up a shed of her clothing, using it to blot at the claw
marks on his neck. He only hoped that the curse of a werebeast could not
be passed on by her claws as it could be by her teeth. He had enough
troubles in life without being a werebeast as well.
A quick examination of the large room showed it to be well appointed.
Whoever she had been, the woman had seemingly spent much of her life
isolated in this room. There was little doubt that some of the local
inhabitants were aware that there was a werewolf in this place, so they
should be likely to avoid it, for few of them could be so foolish as to
risk the wrath of a werebeast. Thus, it should be a fairly safe place for
him to stay in. Aristo found the key to the lock hanging from a peg
beside the door. He relocked the door.
Aristo realized that he would have to find some way of disposing of
the body. A way that would not reveal to the locals that the werewolf was
dead. Hmm. There was that river he had crossed. Hopefully, it would
carry the body away and no one would ever see it who might be able to
recognize it.
After having cleaned his wounds -- would elven healing salves do him
any good if he had been infected with the curse by her claws? -- Aristo
wrapped the body in a sheet, and snuck out into the passage. By some act
of fortune, Aristo was able to reach the river unmolested. He hurled the
shrouded body into the water, hoping it would not get caught on any
obstructions. He also noticed that the raft was on the opposite bank. So
Merikaht had gotten at least that far.
Returning to the werewolf's room, Aristo collapsed into her bed. At
least she had some nice furnishings. Trust a woman to find the nicest
ones. The bed was very comfortable. A welcome change from sleeping on
crates. Discomfort is what made comfort such a pleasure. Drifting off to
sleep, Aristo had a fleeting fear, hoping the werewolf had not had a mate.