I had this written yesterday and forgot to post. Daughter sick with flu

“I wonder how many bedrooms are in here. I bet people would want to stay here for a vacation.”
George peered through the door at the south end of the dinging room. “Apparentl Stephan and Joban liked to drink.
“This must be the loung,” Britt said, looking at the earthernware tankard mugs hanging from the wall and a dry ale keg standing int eh corner.
“It still smells like a brewery,” said Bart.
At the center of the lounge stood a carved statue of a full-sixed, nude woman. It was as if she was beckoning with arms out front in an inviting pose.
“A little vulgar,” said Balon, running his hand over the white marble. “However, it is a beautiful work or artistry.”
“Wow,” said George. “Too bad I can not pick pocket this. It has to be worth over 5,000 gold pieces.
“Too bad you were not stronger, George,” said Bard. “Even I can not budge this.”
“Look at the walls,” said Johanna. They looked. Each wall had a long wooden bench. Those sitting in the bench would face toward the center of the room and the statue.
“I wonder what the purpose is?” said Balon.
“Maybe it was the statue was of some type of goddess,” Johanna suggested. “They probably made sacrifices to it. Yet I do not see anything that would suggest such a thing,” she added looking around the room.
Britt sat down on one of the benches. “With the exception of the rats, I have seen no the sign of life. I wonder if we actually did get here to late.”
“I do not think so,” said George. The rooms are full of dust. There were only signs of the rats, no other footprints.”
“True,” said Britt. “I think we should go back outside and set up camp. We have not eaten since breakfast. Maybe we can discuss things on a full stomache.

Chapter Six
The Wizard’s Wing

“What I did was very careless,” said Britt. “Maybe I was not expecting something to jump out at me. What I should have done was have you covering my back, Bard.”
“I think we were all taken by surprise. We forgot that we are in a place that has traps set up to either kill us or send us away.”
“I do not think the rats were a trap,” Johanna said. “I believe that they took over these ruins as their own stronghold.”
“We will have to find how they are coming into the caverns and take care of it.
“George, you barely ate anything,” Johanna said.
George looked down at his plate. “I guess I am not too hungry,” he said.
“Are you okay, George?” Britt asked. “You are not upset by that incident.”
George looked at Britt and smiled sadly. “I am fine, Britt. I am just thinking.”
“Son, you are thinking about her again, aren’t you?”
George said nothing but stood up and walked to a log away from the others. He sat down and stared at the darkening sky. It was another beautiful night, with the stars making their appearance one by one. Yet he ignored the beauty, too self-absorbed in his thoughts was he.
Bard got up and walked over to where the thief was sitting. “I am willing to listen, if you want to talk,” sitting down next to George.
“When I left the Thieving Guild-when Britt rescued me from the angry mob-I had to leave everything behind. I do not miss the Guild. I was able to replace my tools. Yet, there was one thing I can never replace.”
“What is that?”
“Not what but who. Shyla, even though she was not my girlfriend, she was a very good friend of mine.”
“I take it that she was a thief also.” Bard found it had that George would be able to trust a thief enough to consider one a friend.
George laughed. “She was not a very good thief. She did what she did to get by. However, she was not interested in building her skill. Mostly she was good at stealing food from vendor stalls. Well, the vendors would allow her to steal from them. They pitied her and would turn their heads when she wanted to steal a piece of fruit.”
“I considered her to be a good friend. We could laugh and tell each other secrets and trusted each other not to tell anybody else.”
“When you return to your town, you can try to find her at the guild.”
“It is too late. A few weeks after Britt rescued me, I returned to take her from the Guild. I knew that she did not want to belong to it; she felt uncomfortable staying there. It was too late; she had already left the guild for a more promising career.” He sighed, “The problem is, even though I consider her as a friend, I also am deeply in love with her. I never got the chance to tell her. I regret it to this day. Have you ever been in love, Bard?”
“I do not think so. However, there is always the possibility,” he added glancing over to Johanna. “Still, you never know George, you may run into Shyla when you least expect it.”
“Thanks Bard, I sometimes get discouraged. You may be right so I have to keep my hopes up. I better eat, before the Britt eats my share.”
They returned to the others.
“Thanks Bard,” said the dwarf. “Sometimes it takes George a few days to get out of his gloom.”
“Do you think we can use the kitchen to cook in?” asked Johanna. “We just have to clean it up and make sure the rats do not return.”
“I did think of the same thing,” Britt said. “We just have to make sure the chimney is not blocked. Plus we can use that area as a staging area. I do not see any reason why we need to carry our supplies everywhere with us. We can just take what we need and we can even use our standard rations there. Since the kitchen is above ground, they will not spoil. George have you marked those areas we have explored on the map?”
“Yes Sir, I am already on top of that.”
“Good we will explore the area near the lounge.”
George groaned and put his head in his hands. “Does this mean we will have to listen to those two mouths issuing their warning again?”

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, the adventurers set foot once again into the Caverns of Kildun Aalda. There were no signs of the rats in the kitchen. However, there signs of their presence; several holes in the walls where they gnawed with their teeth and droppings on the floor.
“Phew!” George-back to his normal joking self-said, holding his nose.
Balon appeared with a face black with soot. The chimney is not blocked anymore, it was just filled with soot.
“We can burn the food from the kitchen,” said Massacharamar. “It is too spoiled. Maybe that will take care of the rat problem. We killed eight of them yesterday; but the rest disappeared.”
“If we find some wood somewhere, we can nail the holes up,” said George.
Within an hour the kitchen was cleaned; the dust was all gone due to Johanna’s spell.
****************
“This place looks like it is brand new,” Britt admitted. “The problem is where do we put our food where the rats will not get it.”
“I think in that large iron kettle,” George said. “Do you remember the one you almost hit your head on?”
Britt looked at the kettle suspended from the chain hanging fron the ceiling.
“Rats are not good at climbing. This will be the perfect place.”
“If you give me a few minutes, I can clean the dust out of the dining room and the lounge,” said Johanna.
“Let’s check this corridor,” said Bard after the dining room and lounge were just as clean as the kitchen. They walked north and came to what looked like a rather austere abode.
“This must be Joban’s personal chamber,” Balon said looking at the north wall. Over seventy feet long a very detail carving was there. It showed a mighty wizard on a hilltop casting a spell in the air over a valley below, with an entire army fleeing in a confused panic. “Maybe it is telling the story of the Barbarian Invasion.”
The east and west walls did not have any artwork. However, there were several wall pegs on each, apparently for hanging garments.
The room was bare of furniture except far a bed, located in the southeast corner of the chamber and three chairs scattered about the room.
“No George,” said Britt, “you can not pickpocket this.” They looked at the ornately carved rosewood.
“Yes,” I would imagine this is Joban’s chamber.” The headboard showed Joban’s name highlighted in gold leaf.”
“This bed has to be worth money,” Johanna said. “It is of fine workmanship and construction.”
“True, we can try to sell it,” Britt said. “However, it is too heavy and we would have to dismantle it. It is possible that we can damage the pieces. Still, I am guessing the baseboard and the sides have to be worth 100 gold pieces each and the headboard can probably get us at least 500 gold pieces. George, mark this down in your book.” George pulled his book from his bag and began taking notes. “We will let the elders know. We will leave it up to them to try to sell it. They even may just decide to keep it here.”
“Ouch!” yelled George grasping his hand. “Oh I am so stupid!” He was standing by the nightstand, also made of rosewood, by the bed. “I should ave known to look for a trap first.”
“Are you okay?” Johanna asked.
“It will be fine. I am just stupid. The drawer on the nightstand was locked and I grasped the handle. There was a pin trap. Do not worry, I have dealt with these traps before. They inject an oily substance. Luckily it is not poison and the pain will go away in time. Do not touch that handle!” he warned to Balon as the magic-user went to examine the handle. “The only way to dismantle that trap is to find the key that unlocks the drawer.”
“Here, George,” said Britt, “I have some things you may like.” He handed him a pitcher and three mugs, all made of pewter. (30 Gold pieces)*********************
Balon walked to a door on the south wall of Joban’s chamber. “George!” he yelled. “Are you up to checkin this one for traps.”
“I am fine,” he said. “My hand is getting better.” He looked at the door. “This one is clear!” he said.
“For a closet, this is fairly big,” Britt said.
They walked to the corner of the room and inspected several bolts of material that were stacked upon each other. Heavily covered with dust, moth-eaten and deteriorating, the material was useless.
“That is a shame,” said Balon. “At one time this was fine material.” He walked over to a wall where several coats and cloaks hung. They too were dusty, dirty and smelled of must.
“This one may be worth fifteen gold pieces,” he said, handing Britt a cloak that was studded with pewter.
They walked to a wooden table farthest corner of the room. Four large books were lying on top.
Bard picked up the first book. Written in the common language, he was able to read it. “This seems to be a history book. It outlines different times in the civilized areas around here. There is a big section on Antares.”
Britt looked quickly through it. “I wonder how this ties in with Stephan’s and Joban’s stronghold. Maybe they researched the histories of different lands before deciding where to build their home.”
“Here you will be able to read this better,” Balon said, handing the second book to Massacharamar. “I can speak and understand the elvin tongue. However, I can not read it well. I believe that it deals mostly with plants.”
The elf looked through several pages of drawings of different types of plants. “From what I am reading, it appears that Joban used plants for different types of spells. He even wrote down precautionary notes on how some plants will not interact well with others. Apparently, he also used the plants for healing purposes.”
“I can not make any sense of this at all,” George said. He kept looking at the book first right side up, then up side down and finally sideways. He was holding a book with many handwritten entries of undecopherable runes and markings.
“It looks like some sort of diary kept by Joban. Maybe it details one of his adventures from the distant past.” She continued looking at the book. “He wrote this for his eyes only and the only way we can read it is to cast a read languages spell.”
“This is a weather book,” Britt said. “If this is Joban’s work, I must say that he is an excellent artist. He was looking at a drawing of a tornado causing havoc in a village. “There are only pictures in this book,” he said, flipping through several pages. “This must have been a hobby he did in his spare time.”
In another corner was a small table with a stack of papers upon it. These were very dusty, and were held in place by a stone slab paperweight. A fancy Letter J was monogrammed on it.
“There is nothing too interesting here,” Massacharamar said. “They contain things such inventory of foodstuffs, a financial accounting of expenses, notes on constructive work for the complex, a couple of routine messages received by Joban, and other things like that.”
The group left the closet. Making sure nobody saw him, George quickly put the diary he found in his backpack.
Bard pointed to another corner in Joban’s chamber. “There is another door.”

 

“I have heard of them,” Johanna said. “Yet how can he fight against and defeat the warriors?” I mean the dwarf and the fighter were wearing armor.”
“They fight with and uncontrollable rage. It is like they are not aware of their surroundings when they are in this rage. Their main goal when they are in the fury state is to destroy everything that gets in their way. In other words they fight with reckless abandon and disregard to even their own lives. The interesting thing is when two or more berserkers go into this rage, they recognize each other as allies and will not attack each other. However, if one berserker is in the way, another may knock him down to get to his objective.” He looked closely at the body. “This one is related to the bear, hence the bearskins.”
“Do you mean that they are part animal?” Bard asked.
“No, most likely the were raised as bears when they were young children. As they grow they have the bear instincts inbreed in them. They are not bloodthirsty but the instilled endorphins and adrenaline causes them to fight with a fierceness that many people fear them. “
“There is another berserker over here,” said Massacharamar. Another human, this one wearing wolf skins lay a few feet away. “It looks like he defended this place to the death.” She looked over this body. “I think this happened over a week ago; this body is starting to decomposed.”
George looked around. “Should we be worried about any more of these creatures attacking us?”
“No,” Britt said. “At least not in this area. Usually people who keep caverns like these, contains monsters in specific areas.”
Britt was silent for a moment. “We need to bury these bodies; we cannot just leave them to rot away. Even the berserkers need a proper burial.”

“The thing about the wolf and bear imbedded berserkers is that they can lead a normal life with humans. If have seen ones that have been found in the wilderness and after receiving proper care, nobody knows that this was once a wild man. They can be very gentle and mild-mannered.”
They were back outside, digging graves for the bodies. “You may be working next to one and may never know. Sometimes they are hired to do laborious work. With their power, they can move large objects easily; objects that are too heavy for ordinary human power. It is possible that Stephan and Joban used berserkers for most of the manual labor in building their home. The funny thing about Berserkers is that they can go into a state of rage at any time. It seems that they can control their rage when they go into it and when they end their fury.”
“I heard tat some berzerkers would rather scare away intruders rather than kill them,” Balon said.
“True they can control their rages to a point. Some of them do not want to kill. Such as a mother wolf protecting her pack, just sending a warning growl will turn the intruders. This type of berserker may pick up a stone and throw it, not hitting the intruder, but giving his a choice to run or fight.
“I noticed that the warrior did not have any armor,” Bard said. “Do you think the Berzerker did that?”
“It has been said that they can tear apart armor with their teeth. You should see the shield I had when I had an encounter with one. He bite it in half.”
“Wow,” said Bard with awe. “In a way I hope we do not run into one in the caverns.”
“Ture, it would be better if we fight one in the open. When they fight in closed places, such as in the caverns, they fight with such a fierceness. It is as if they are cornered and the animal instinct overcomes them. Remember that wolves and bears do not like to be trapped. They will do anything to escape.”

Once again the adventurers stepped back through the entrance way. They had buried the bodies of the dwarf, fighter and magic-user. As for the bodies of two berserkers, they were burned. “It was too late for them anyway,” Johanna said.
“Too late for what?” Bard asked.
She smiled secretely, “You will see.”
As they approached the third set of columns, the two mouths appeared and repeated their doomful warning.
“Oh, shut up!” George and Britt yelled at the same time.
“They were once again in the intersection where the bodies had been found
“There is a room over there,” said George.
“This must be the kitchen,” Britt said. They were standing in a large room.
“Oh boy, it stinks over here!” George exclaimed, holding his nose. He was standing by a table against a wall. There were opened containers scattered about. The contents were spilled on the tabletop. Food long unused, such as flour and wheat lay there with mold blanketing it. A single piece of cheese lay there, with a fuzzy green growth covering it.
“None of us are going to do any cooking in here,” said ritt, looking at the various utensils scattered about, “until this place is cleaned up.” he turned his head while talking and almost hit his head on a large cast iron kettle hanging from the ceiling by a thick chain.
George peeked into the kettle. “Empty!” he called.
“Look at this!” exclaimed George, pointing at two cooking pits. He jumped into one.
“You foolish boy!” yelled Britt. “What in the blazes do you think you are doing?”
George popped his head up. “They are big enough to cook a cow in!”
“I wonder if they still can be used,” said Johanna. “Once we get the room secured, we could cook in here.”
“It would be better than having to cook outside,” agreed Britt.
“We can try,” said Balon. There is enough ashes in the bottom. I wonder how the chimney is.” The magic-user looked at the pipe that led upwards from the pit. “I think something is blocking it.”
“Let me see,” said Britt. He put his hands on the pipe and shook it.
There was a scrambling noise and beady eyes peered down at the intruder daring to disturb in. With a leap, a giant rat sprung out of the pipe and landed on the dwarf. The rat was not as large as the ones Bard fought at the catacombs; however, this one was a big as Britt. Britt fell to the ground on his back with the large rat trying to bite into his neck. The only thing preventing him was Britt’s powerful arms pushing the gnashing teeth away.
“No! You will kill Britt!” George yelled as Balon was about to cast a spell at the rat. All around them rats were coming out of the shadows.
Grabbing his knife, George ran and jumped onto the rats back. Stabbing him between the shoulder blades, the knife buried into the rats back. Angered, the rat whipeed its tail around George’s neck and began constricting. Choking, George desparaetly tried to free the tail. His eyes bulged and he became limp.
Bard ran behind the rat and cut its tail off. Free from the trap, George fell lifeless to the ground. When the rat turned to gnash at Bad, he swung his sword and decapitated the creature. The he turned and killed a rat tat was rushing towards Johanna.
The rats, even though at first were twenty-four, were fewer. Since they are cowardly, several silently disappeared into the shadows. With Balon’s magic spells, Johanna smashing mast, Massacharmar’s arrows the remaining rats were killed within a minute. However, they did not have time to be jubilant. They turned a noticed a sad scene.
“Please, no!” said Johanna.
Britt was kneeling by George, sobbing.
“George! Please! You can get up. The rats are gone.”
There was no response from the thief. His body still lay there lifeless.
“George! Please, you can not die. We have been through too much together.” Britt cradled the lad and stroked his face. “You are very brave. I am proud of having you as a son.” He looked to the others. “Why isn’t he moving. Isn’t there any thing we can do?” Britt continued sobbing, rocking back and forth holding George. “He means too much to me! He is my son!”
Bard was the first one to reach the distraught dwarf. Looking at George’s pale face and blue lips, he knew it was too late. His windpipe was crushed. Or was it too late? Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him; he thought he saw a slight movement. Yes! There it was again. George was making a feeble attempt to take a gasp for breath. There was still a chance!
“Out of my way,” he said pushing Britt aside. Reaching into his bag he pulled out his healing potion. He tilted George’s head up and pour the potion down his throat.
Within seconds color came back into George’s face and his lips became a healthy red. He began to brease easily. The thief opened his eyes and looked at Britt, grinning.
“My hero!” he said and kiss Bard on the mouth.
Wiping his mouth, Bard pretended to be angry. However, he was relieved that the potion had worked. The thief had grown on him; he was like a little brother.
The others gathered around George and hugged him. Britt looked at him and grunted, “Foolish boy; you are going to be the death of me yet.” Embracing George, he added, “You may be foolish, but you are also brave.”
“I think the rest of the rats are gone,” Massacharamar said.
Johanna walked over to the body of a rat and knelt next to it. She began meditating.
“What is she doing?” asked Britt. Why would she pray over something that almost killed George?
Massacharamar hushed him, saying, “You will see in a minute.”
Soon the rat came back to life. It was not living but was a ghostlike shell of its former self. It looked around, not with malice and menace, but rather peaceful and friendly. Soon the other rats came back to life. They approached the first one and their bodies merged into its translucent one. The rat walked away.
Johanna explained, “This is one of the reasons why Britt wanted me to join them. I have a gift that can bring creatures back to this phase. However, it must be done within an hour of them being killed.”
Bard looked over at Britt, who was still talking with George. “I am just asking out of curiosity. Why would they need this gift?”
“The elders want to keep this place as authentic as possible. If people do tour here, they will have an idea of what needed to be done so they can be here. They will not have to fear the animated monsters; they will not harm them.
George and Britt were standing to the side, arguing. “We have to continue,” the thief reasoned. “We can not run because of a little fight.”
“I know,” said Britt. “I just do not want anything to happen to you.”
“We were just taken by surprise. We need to be a little more careful, that is all. You remember when we go on these missions, we always take a risk. Nothing in life is free.”
Britt was silent for a second. “You are right, George. We will continue.”
They walked to the room adjoining the kitchen.
“For two people who lived as recluses, they built this room as if they were planning to have a banquet.”
“Maybe they wanted people to think they had friends.”
“Maybe it was a coverup,” said George.
“What in the blazes are you talking about?”
“Well, think about it. If people thought that Stephan and Joban were generous, throwing a grand party once in a while, their true motives are hidden.”
“That makes sense,” Britt grunted. “Or maybethe room was used for the people who helped build this home.”
“This is beautiful work,” the elf said, running her hand over the maple surface of the tabe.
“I know which chairs the two sat in,” said George sitting in a walnut chair, with beautiful carvings. “too bad I cannot pickpocket these; they are too heavy.”
A wooden mantle seven feet off the floor surrounded the room. Nothing, not even a trophy sat on top of the intricately carved woodwork.
qBritt ran his fingers through the dust covering the table. “It is obvious this room has not been used in a while.”

 

Too surprised to do anything, she watched as Sylvan came running from the trees. He reached into his sack and pulled out the silver cup. He ran up to the fallen unicorn and filled the cup with he blood running from its wound.
Taking a drink, he offered the cup to Leelah.
"Who do you think you are?" she said, striking him across the cheek. "You tricked me!"
"Don't you see," Sylvan said. "We can be together forever."
"I want nothing to do with you!" Leelah screamed at him. "Leave me alone and never speak to me again!" She stormed off.
Shrugging his shoulders, Sylvan finished drinking the unicorn's blood.


100 Years Later

The old man shuffled down the dirt path in the forest. He would walk a few feet, and then he would have to rest. His arthritis would only allow him to go so far.
He had traveled this forest many times and knew where every turn was. It was a good thing, since the slightest stumble would send him falling to the ground. It would be very hard for him to get back up. He came to a clearing where a shack once stood. Leelah, dead for years, never gave him a single thought since he killed the unicorn and drank its blood. While she could have been walking along with him, it was best that she never drank the unicorn's blood.
Sylvan shook his head sadly.
He remembered when he first expressed his wish to have eternal life. The cleric had told him that he had to drink unicorn's blood.
The cleric had said, "Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes you get what you want. Yet, it may not be what you wanted."
How true the cleric's words! Sylvan got the eternal life he wanted. His mind is as alert as ever. He will live forever. However, he body still ages.
Eternal life is not a blessing.
It is a curse!
**********************************
Sylvan buried his head in his hands. “What is an old man to do?” he sobbed. “Sylvan cannot die. Sylvan wants to die!”
“If we can help, can you tell us how to get to the caverns?” Massacharamar asked.
“Yes!”
“Do you still have the silver cup?”
“I, I mean Sylvan does!” The old man pulled a cup out of his bag. “Here it is. It looks as new as the day Sylvan got it!” He handed the cup to the elf. “How can nice people, like you, help Sylvan?”
“Unicorn’s blood will take away the curse.” The elf sniffed the air. “There is a unicorn nearby. Johanna, I need you to come with me.”
“We are not going to kill a unicorn, are we?” Johanna asked.
“I will explain on the way.”
“I want to go too,” George said. “I have never seen a live unicorn.”
“Unicorns will not come up if a male is nearby. You have to stay here.”
“Oh shoot,” George said, pouting.
“You kind people want to help Sylvan,” said the old man. “Sylvan will tell you how to reach the caverns while the ladies are looking for a unicorn.”
Johanna and Massacharamar walked away. “It is about a day’s walk from here, Sylvan began. George had taken the parchment from his bag and began to sketch.

Johanna was following the Massacharamar. Every once in a the elf wold stop and sniff the air.
“We are not going to kill a unicorn, are we?” she asked again.
“No,” said the elf. “We are just going to borrow some of its blood.”
“I do not understand.”
“If I can get close enough to a unicorn, I can cut it on its belly and get enough blood to fill Sylvan’s cup. I brought you along so you can heal it after we get enough blood.”
“I see. However, how will we get close enough to a unicorn? Also, doesn’t the blood have to be from a black unicorn?”
“Blod from any type of unicorn will end the curse. Unicorns come to me; I can speak to them with my mind. I will tell it what I have to do, that it might hurt a bit and encourage it that its wound will be healed. I think the unicorn is just ahead.
Johanna and Massacharamar crested the hill. A white unicorn was drinking from a stream.
“Please do not run,” the elf spoke in its mind.
The unicorn did not move, but looked scared.
“Do not be afraid. We are friends. We need to borrow something from you. It may hurn, but my friend will heal you. Please come here if you want to help.”
The unicorn slowly walked towards the Massacharamar and Johanna. The elf slowly reached out her hand and stroked its sleek body.
“Can I touch him too?”
“Go ahead, he trusts you.”
“I have never touched a unicorn, let alone seen one, before,” Johanna said, excited.
The elf took a knife and Sylvan’s cup from her bag. “As soon as I get enough blood, heal him.”
In a minute, the cup was filled with blood and the unicorn healed.
“Thank you, friend,” Massacharamar said.
The unicorn looked at the two females, bowed at them and walked off into the forest.
By the time they got to the others, George was putting his parchment back into his bag.
“He told us how to get there. If we had continued north, we may have missed it. I hope you can help him; he has helped us immensely.
“We got it,” Johanna said.
Massacharamar approached Sylvan. “We got what you need.”
Sylvan looked at the silver cup. “Sylvan really appreciates this.” He drank the unicorn’s blood. When he was done, he lay on the ground. “This makes Sylvan very happy.” He stopped speaking. His body instantly crumbled into a body of dust. The wind gathered up what was left of Sylvan in her arms and scattered him over the land.
 
Chapter Five
The Caverns of Kildun Aalda

The terrain was getting more hilly than before. Following Sylvan’s directions, the group continued walking the rest of the day, taking small breaks to rest.
“George,” said Britt, “can you check out the area above the hill? We have to stop for the night.”
“Sure thing,” the thief said, running off.
Bard looked at the pinking of the sky as the sun started its descent in the west. It was going to be another beautiful night.
“I wonder how much longer we have to go,” Bard said to Britt.
“I am not sure,” the dwarf answered. “I wonder if Sylvan’s directions are reliable. At his age, his mind may have been going.”
“I think his mind was as sharp as the day he first drank the unicorn’s blood.”
“Hey!” George yelled. “I think we found it!”
The group ran up to George. He pointed ahead of him. About a mile in the distance stood a row of cliffs.
“I believe you are right, son,” Britt said.
“Look at that outcrop,” Johanna said. “It looks like a tower.”
“If this is the place,” said Massacharamar, “that was most likely used as a lookout.”
“There is too much vegetation to be certain,” said Britt. “Other than the tower, everything else is hidden”
“Do we go there now?” asked Balon.
“No,” said Britt. “We will camp for the night. If we leave early, we should find the entrance while it is still morning.”

“Be careful,” Johanna called to Balon. “I almost fell.”
“They were almost to the face of the cliff. The pathway was becoming more hazardous as stones broke under her feet.
Britt was the first one to reach the face of the cliff. “This is beautiful,” he said, as he ran his hand over the craggy black outcropping of slate. “I would love to mine this.”
“I think I found an entrance!” Balon yelled. Pushing aside the vines and vegetation, the explorers found an opening in the rock formation, large enough for humans to enter.
“Remember to be careful in here,” Britt said.
“You never know what might bite you in your rear end,” George quipped.
The group stepped into the entrance.
“This is like a courtyard,” Bard said looking around. He thought they would be in a cavern. However, once they got through the entrance, they were in sunlight once again.
“There is a door just ahead,” Massacharamar called. A wooden door was in the second rock wall.
“Have your torches ready.”
“Balon and George, make sure you stay in the middle of the formation.”
They reached the door.
“No traps,” George said after a quick, but thorough, examination.
The door opened easily.
“Wait!” said Johanna. “Look at the door!”
“I do not see anything wrong,” said Bard.
“Parts of the door have been chipped away.”
Britt looked at the door. “It looks like it has been forced open. Do not tell me that we are too late.”
“Maybe it was Sylvan,” said Balon. “he said that he tried to get the monsters to kill him.”
“True,” said Britt. “Carry on.”
They stepped through the door and found themselves in another courtyard. Three pairs of columns were spaced equally apart.
They passed the first two. There were no markings on them, nothing to indicate their purpose.
“Maybe they were used as guard posts,” Bard suggested.
“That is possible,” said Britt. He carefully checked one column. “Sometimes these have hidden doors on them. Yet, I do not see any on this one.”
They continued walking towards the final set of columns. All of a sudden two mouths appeared on this set.
“Who dares enter this place?” said the first mouth in a booming voice.
The second mouth spoke, “Who dares intrude upon the sanctuary of Stephan and Joban?”
The first mouth spoke again, “Only a group of foolish explorers…”
“Doomed to certain death!” finished the second mouth.
Then both mouths spoke at once, “Beware to any who pass here-the wrath of Stephan and Joban will be upon them!” Then both mouths laughed evilly and vanished from view.
“What a warm, hearty welcome,” George said, laughing, trying to imitate the mouths.
Just past the third set of columns were two steps made out of stone. They climbed them and continued up the corridor, George ran ahead to an intersecting one that ran east to west.
“George, you foolish boy! Do not go off by yourself!”
“We are not the first ones!” the thief yelled back.
The others ran up to him and saw a grisly scene.
“Careful now,” said Britt. “Whatever killed them may be nearby.”
Bard walked over to one body. Even though the body was stripped of armor, he was sure that this was a fighter like him. A broken sword, sheared off about six inches from the hilt, lay near the body.
Balon paled when he saw the second body. He and Johanna walked over to it. “Nobody I know, but still a bad way to die.” The human magic user was impaled against the wall, a sword thrust through his body and lodged in the wall. “Something powerful must have done this.” He pulled at the sword, “Somebody, help me remove tis!” With effort, Bard and Britt were able to dislodge the sword from the wall and the dead magic user. His body crumpled to the floor.
“Well, this definitely is the place,” Britt said, as they stared at the blood-stained writing on the wall. It read “The Caverns of Kildun Aalda: The Home of Stephan and Joban.”
“There is a trail of blood,” George said, pointing. They followed the trail a short distance to the east. A dwarf fighter lay face down, his right hand still clutching his war hammer.
“It looks like he was wounded and crawled here to die,” Britt said. He stared at the body in silence, then noticed another body in the shadows. “At least he did not die in vain.” Another creature lay dead, his head bashed in from the blow of a war hammer.
Bard walked over to its body and noticed that it was a human warrior wearing a coat of bear skins.
“Is it possible that he belonged to the others?”
“It is possible,” said the dwarf. “However, he looks like a human berserker. They are very powerful and are normally used as guards.”

 

"Do you, see anything son!" Britt yelled up into in the tree.
"Nothing! Just other trees!" yelled a voice far above their heads.
"Better come down before you fall."
There was a quick scrambling as George climbed down the tree. "I think if we go further north, we may have better luck. It seems the tops of the trees were rising; it is like we are in the bottom of a bowl. Either the trees are getting taller or we are approaching another hill."
"Massacharamar how is the food situation?"
"We still have enough standard rations for at least three days."
"We will walk for three more hours then set up camp. I want to start hunting for food, to make the standard rations last. I am glad you thought about bringing your bows and arrows."
"Did you hear that," the elf suddenly asked, turning her head around.
“Hear what?" asked Johanna.
"I hear it again," she said as she keenly listened with her pointed ears. "This way," she said and headed quickly up the hill.
A short distance away they stopped. A pathetic creature was sitting against the trunk of the tree. It sounded like it was crying. They cautiously approached it and realized that it was an old man, a very old man. (
Massacharamar approached him and asked, "Can we help you."
The old man stopped crying and looked at them. "Sylvan is grateful that these people are caring."
They looked around but did not see anyone else.
"Who is sylvan?" Johanna asked.
"Why Sylvan is the poor old fool sitting in front of you! Sylvan has been wandering this forest for years. He has been cursed."
"How old is Sylvan," Balon asked.
"Sylvan is five hundred years old."
The old man stood up. His body was nothing more than a skeleton of loose skin. "Are you lost?" he asked. "Sylvan knows this forest. Sylvan has been from one end to another a countless number of times."
“We are looking for…”
“Can we trust him?” George whispered to the dwarf.
“I think we can,” Britt whispered back. “We are looking for the caverns of Kildun Aalda.”
“Sylvan knows exactly where that is! Sylvan was there when Stephan and Joban built their fortress. Sylvan wanted to help but they did not want an old man annoying them. Sylvan even entered the caverns, hoping the monsters would kill him. However, the monsters ignored Sylvan”
The old man sat down again. Listen to Sylvan’s story. If you help Sylvan, Sylvan will tell you how to get to the caverns.
*************************************
Sylvan walked down the overgrown dirt path in the forest. Stopping to rest, he uncorked his flask and drank his water. It was hot and growing more so as the morning turned into afternoon.
He sat down within the shade of the trees, checking his bow and arrows and seeing that they were still in good condition. Well, they should be; he had tested them a few times since he bought them. However, he never used them. He only had one purpose for them.
His boots were another story. There were holes worn in them, with his toes starting to show through. He should have purchased another pair before he started on his quest.
He checked his sack, making sure he had enough food. He was good for a few more days. If he didn't find a town with a marketplace-or at least a house where the owner was willing to sell him some food-he would have to use the arrows to hunt for food. However, he did not want to use them for this purpose. He was on a quest and he needed the arrows for this.
Sylvan reached down into the bottom of his sack. It was still there, safely wrapped up in a cloth-the silver cup. If this got lost-or was stolen-he would not be able to complete the quest.
Sylvan's quest was for unicorn's blood. It could not be from just any unicorn; it must be from a black unicorn. Once he had slain the unicorn, he must pour the blood into the silver cup and drink from the cup.
Sylvan realized that finding a black unicorn would be difficult-they were rare, with only a few seen in the forest. The thought of drinking the blood made him slightly shudder. However, the rewards were great.
Eternal life was what he wanted.
"I love living," Sylvan told a cleric in town a short time ago.
"I do not want to die. I have so many things I want to do. I wish I could live forever."
"Unicorn's blood is the answer," the cleric replied.
"What does unicorn's blood have to do with this?"
"The black unicorn has magical qualities in its blood. When you slay the unicorn, pour the blood into a silver cup and drink it, you will be rewarded with eternal life. However, be careful what you wish for," said the cleric wisely. "Sometimes you get what you want. Yet, it may not be what you wanted."
After speaking to the cleric, Sylvan knew he had to hunt for and slay a black unicorn. Then after drinking the blood, he would be able to live forever. He ran back to his room and grabbed what money he had.

"I do not have enough money to buy one of these," Sylvan thought to himself as he looked at the silver cups on the shelf at the marketplace. "Even the smallest one is too expensive." Stroking his chin, he stood there thinking. He had already bought his arrows and was now at the marketplace getting food and supplies. "I know what to do."
He turned to the shopkeeper. "Sir, I just remember. I need to get a drinking flask. Do you have any?" He knew where they were in the market. Luckily, he forgot that he would need to get one.
"Of course! I will get you one."
As soon as the shopkeeper had turned his back, Sylvan reached out his hand, grabbed one of the cups and put it in his sack.
"Here you go sir," the shopkeeper returned with a flask. "Are you going to be traveling far?"
"I am just doing some hunting. I may be gone for a few days."
"May I interest you in a new pair of boots? Yours look like they are getting worn."
"Oh no thank you. Mine will do."
Wanting to get out of the market before the shopkeeper noticed the missing cup; Sylvan quickly paid for his supplies and left the shop.

Now sitting in the shade, Sylvan regretted not buying a new pair of boots. Rubbing his feet, he thought he would be only gone for a couple of days. Still he had seen no signs of the black unicorns. He should have seen at least one by now.
"What am I doing wrong?" Sylvan asked himself, running his fingers through his black curly hair.
He sat and thought some more. A slight breeze was moving through the stillness of the day's heat. It was as if the breeze was singing to him.
"Wait a minute," Sylvan said. "Somebody is singing!"
Sylvan listened and certainly heard somebody singing. Well, it really wasn’t singing; just a person, sounded like a female, going "La, La, La! La, La La!"
The person was singing the words over and over. Sylvan walked through the trees towards the sound of the singing. He came upon a stream and, there filling a water bottle, was a beautiful young woman singing, "La, La, La! La, La, La!"
"Oh," she said jumping up, placing her hand over her heart. "I did not know anyone was here!"
"That is okay," Sylvan said. "Do you live near here?"
"Yes." My parents and I live just down the road. Come and have something to eat."
"I will carry these for you," Sylvan said, picking up the water jugs. After the days traveling in the forest, these felt as heavy as boulders. Yet, he wanted to prove that he was a man to this woman.
"My name is Sylvan."
"I am Leelah."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen. And you?"
"Twenty-one."
"Maybe I should forget about the unicorn quest," Sylvan thought to himself, "and think about a new one. Leelah is beautiful; maybe we can get married."
"So how long have you been traveling in the forest," Leelah interrupted his thoughts.
"Almost three weeks."
"Here we are," said Leelah, when they came up to a small shack. "Come in, my mother is cooking a roast. She always makes extra in case we have visitors."
"Do you get many visitors?"
"We get a few each week. It is just people passing through from one town to the other."
"Why are you living in the forest? There are not other families living nearby, are there?"
"We just want a simple life. We hunt and grow our own produce. We do not like the bustle in the towns. We only go there to sell our produce and buy supplies. Come inside and meet my father."

"So what brings you to this part of the forest," Leelah's father asked.
Sylvan had just finished his second helping of roast. He leaned back in his chair, satisfied. He had not eaten this good in days.
"I have been looking for a black unicorn. So far I have not seen any sign of them."
"Oh I love unicorns!" Leelah exclaimed delightedly. "They always come up to me as I sing when I am fishing."
"Of course!" Sylvan said to himself. "Unicorns only come up to virgin women. Leelah must be a virgin."
"I would like to see a unicorn," Sylvan said. "Maybe you can show me one."
"That will have to wait until morning," Leelah's mother said. "It is getting dark outside. We have an extra room you can spend the night in."

The next morning, after a meal of eggs and ham, Leelah and Sylvan set out. She was carrying a fishing pole.
"Unicorns always come to me when I am fishing. I am not sure why, but when my father is with me, they never show up."
"Maybe they are attracted by your beautiful singing. Then maybe, they just like to approach one person. If I want to see them, I better hide in the trees."
"Are you a hunter?" Leelah asked, indicating Sylvan's bow and arrows.
Sylvan had not told Leelah what he had been planning to do. He was not sure if she would be willing to help him if she knew. Yet, once he got the unicorn's blood, he was going to offer some to her. They both could have eternal marriage bliss. He planned to ask her father as soon as they got back.
"I do a little hunting," Sylvan replied, "mostly for food." In a way he was telling the truth. Unicorn's blood can give him the same amount of nourishment as a piece of meat.
They came to the stream and sat down on a boulder. She cast her line into the water and, while waiting for the fish to bite, Leelah started singing, "La, La, and La! La, La La!"
"How long does it take for a unicorn to show up?" Sylvan asked after a few minutes.
"Usually after I start singing."
Sylvan stood up. "I am going to go over there and see if I can hunt something for your supper; to pay you and your parents back for your hospitality."
He walked away from the stream and hid behind some trees. He watched, waiting in anticipation.
Within minutes, Sylvan heard a rustling of leaves. Could it be? Yes! It was a unicorn. From the tip of its horn to the bottom of its hooves, it was black.
The unicorn cautiously looked around. It slowly approached the singing figure sitting by the stream. Entranced by her voice, it lowered its head into her lap.
Leelah reached out her hand and stroked its neck.
Sylvan slowly fitted an arrow on the bowstring. Making as little noise as possible, he drew back. Being sure that he would not hit Leelah, he let the arrow fly.
"La, La, La! La..."
Leelah's eyes popped open in surprise as the unicorn suddenly jumped up. It ran around wildly for a few seconds, and then collapsed on the ground.

 

Chapter Three
Kildun Aalda
"Can't that lad keep up? We are never going to make it at this rate! We will all be dead of old age!"
The group stopped walking and looked behind them. A lone figure was struggling to catch up. They had only traveled three miles and had to stop and wait for him each mile.
"When he catches up, we can rest," Britt looked up at the sun. "It is time we eat lunch."
George laughed, "It is a good thing I wear leather armor. It is very light; I feel that I have nothing on. Hey! Did we forget to do something?" he asked Massacharamar.
"This is right! I forgot! When he catches up, we will fix it."
Eventually, Bard reached the group. "I am sorry," he panted, trying to catch his breath. He took off his helmet and poured some water over his head. "I forgot that plate armor is so heavy to travel in. How are Britt, Johanna and you able to travel so quickly?"
"It is my fault," said the elf. "I was so excited about traveling that I forgot to prepare you."
"Prepare me for what?"
"This," said Massacharamar, pulling a spray bottle out of her backpack. "Now stand still while I spray your armor. This is a lightening formula. Soon your armor will weigh less and it will be easier for you to travel."
Within minutes, Bard felt the pounds melt away. He checked himself to see if he was in fact still wearing the armor. "This is excellent! It will make it much easier to fight monsters."
"Unfortunately," said Massacharamar, "it wears off during a conflict. It is only intended for traveling. This was made by an honest magic-user; he feels that it would give an unfair advantage to those using it during a conflict. He does not like cheating; even when it could save somebody's life."

Bard glanced up at the stars as he and the others sat around the campfire. The stars were out in full glory.
"You know, Bard said, "with the exception of the last time I went to the Catacombs, I have never camped outdoors. This night is so beautiful, I wouldn't mind if it never ended."
"You better get some sleep," George said, yawning. "We are leaving at dawn; for some odd reason, we have to make up for lost time." He jumped up and got out of the way as Bard half-heartedly threw a punch at him.
Even though George was annoying, he had to admit that he was starting to like the lad. Though George was five years younger than him, he seemed to express a wisdom that far surpassed his years; except when he was playing silly pranks. However, his foolishness always seemed to keep the morale of the group high, even when Britt looked like he was going to rip the thief's head off.
"Do not worry," the dwarf said. "I think George's antics are very funny. Yet, I want him to think I am angry with him; that way he will not be encouraged to do any more pranks." The dwarf chuckled, "However, I believe George is on to me."
"Oh, Bard," said George. "Massacharamar gave me this to give to you. It is a protection blanket."
Bard looked at the blanket. It was nothing special, just a wool blanket that could keep him warm during the night.
"What does it do?" Bard asked jokingly. "Protect me while I am sleeping?"
"Yes! Too bad we cannot cover ourselves while we are fighting monsters. However, that would be cheating!"
"It was probably from the same magic-user that made the lightening formula," Bard thought to himself.
George walked away, ready to go to sleep. Balon and Massacharamar went to join him. Britt and Johanna were sitting by the fire, gazing at the stars. Bard joined them.
The dwarf thoughtfully smoked his pipe. "We did make up some time this afternoon. According to the map, we went three miles this morning and five after we fixed your armor, Bard. I think we did well."
"That formula worked great," Bard admitted.
"I did notice that some of us are carrying more than others," Johanna said. "I think if we divide the supplies more equally, we may be able to travel further."
"That is a good idea," Britt said. "Before we leave, we will make sure each of us has an equal amount to carry."
"I can take some extra weight on me," Bard said, in case the load is too heavy for somebody. He noticed Johanna's stormy look in her eyes. "I am thinking about George. Even though he is eighteen, he is very thin."
She blushed, "You are right Bard. Balon is not a physically strong person either. I can help him out."
"We will divide the weight equally," said Britt, "and see how each person does. I can help Massacharamar." He was miffed when Bard offered to help George. He shrugged his shoulders; at least Bard was finally warming up to the thief.
Britt continued to gaze up at the stars and smoke his pipe.
"Whatever happened to Stephan and Joban?" Johanna asked.
"Killed in the Barbarian lands," answered Britt.
"I had no idea," said Johanna. "They seemed so invincible."
"When did this happen?"
"About ten years ago. Do you remember the Barbarian invasion about sixteen years ago? My father fought in it.
"I remember that war," Bard said. "My father fought in it too. I was only five years old." He was silent for a few minutes. "My father was killed in that war."
"I am so sorry," Johanna said, touching Bard on his shoulder tenderly with her hand.
"Thank you." He turned to Britt, "I heard many brave people were killed in that war. Yet, the barbarians were still defeated in the end."
"True. Many people were surprised to see Stephan and Joban fighting."
"How is that?" asked Johanna. "You see, when they build their home, they became recluses. Everything they did, even planning, they did in their home. They would leave for occasional adventures. They wanted to build their reputations. However, not much of their deeds and adventures were known after they started living in their home. As I stated previously, they both kept their distance from other people."
"They must have been very brave," Johanna said.
"Brave, yes. However, they built their reputations for the wrong purposes. They were foolish and greedy. True, they fought in many battles. Yet, their purpose was not to fight for the lands, but for themselves. They would pillage innocent people's houses. They would take everything they owned. They even left people homeless; they would burn down the houses after they ransacked them."
"And people called them brave?" Bard commented.
"This basically is new information. The elders had learned this just a few days before we were assigned the mission. All we had was a crude map and a journal detailing their forages.
"There were two barbarian battles. The first you know about. The barbarians were planning to invade the land in the west. Their plan was to engulf the land and to slay everyone in the path.
"While the barbarians were crossing a valley, the people fought them in a narrow pass between two hills. However, they could not drive the barbarians back.
"Everything looked dark for the people. The barbarians slew the brave souls left and right. However, when things appeared the darkest and the people lost hope, Stephan and Joban unexpectedly showed up. The people welcomed this reappearance of two great men not seen in years.
"With Stephan's fighting and Joban's magic skills, both men turned back the invading barbarians. The battle was won by these two men and other fighters chosen by them. It is believed that these men with the warrior and the magic user were the same that helped build the Caverns of Kildun Aalda.
"Greatly rewarded with treasures, they returned to their home.
"I wonder," said Johanna, "why Stephan and Joban did not show up earlier in the battle? It would seem that fewer lives would have been lost if they had done so."
"Probably to make the people see that they could not fight the barbarians without them."
"Wow," said Bard. "This is different from the stories I remember. Is this true?"
Britt nodded.
"I cannot respect them the way I used to. You mentioned that Stephan and Joban were killed."
"Yes, it the second battle. The battle occurred in the barbarian lands. They decided to invade their land. They used the slaves and laborers that were used in building their home. Why they decided to invade the barbarian land, I have no idea."
"What about revenge for their invasion?" Johanna asked.
"It could be, but I doubt it. They were recluses for too long that they did not care for people. Most likely it was just greed or they were just over-confident.
"Stephan, Joban and their men met their demise in the barbarian land. One person managed to escape with the map and journal. When the elders found him, he was a raving lunatic. His experience was so traumatic, it would have been better if he had been killed along with his comrades."
 
Chapter Four
Unicorn's Blood
Bard watched George with interest as he sat down on the ground sketching on the parchment. In the three days they had been traveling, he noticed a curious pattern of the thief.
First George would count each step he made. As he reached a certain number, he would reach down and pick up a pebble. Whenever they stopped to rest, he would count his pebbles and make notes or drawings on the parchment. Sometimes he ran off and returned to make a quick note in the book. Finally, curiosity overcame Bard. He approached George.
"I am just wondering what you are doing."
"When we were in town," I tried to find a map of the forest. Unfortunately, none were made. So I am making a map.
"I normally walk one hundred meters in seventy-five paces. So, I have a basic idea how far we have traveled."
"That is interesting."
"I mark down on the map any key terrain features, such as paths, hills, valleys, streams and creeks. Sometimes I make notes in my book such as how difficult a path is to walk on."
"How will this help us get the mission accomplished?"
"The only map we have is the map you saw. It just shows the diagram of the caverns and the area surrounding it. By me drawing a more detailed map, we will know that we are not walking in circles. Plus if we get lost, we can use the map to get back on track."
"This is very detailed," Bard said, looking at the map. "Maybe you do not need to be a thief with this talent."
George grinned, "I learned my mapping skills in the Thieving Guild. You never know when you are going to need the floor plans of a castle."

They were on the move again. Johanna and Balon were in the front, Bard and Britt in the middle, with George and Massacharamar in the rear.
"George, adjust your pace count," the dwarf yelled back. "We are in hilly terrain."
"Got it," the thief yelled.
"Why does he have to adjust it?" Bard asked.
"When it is hilly like this, he has to take more paces to go the same distance. For example, he may take one hundred paces instead of seventy-five."
"Do you think we are going in the right direction?"
"If only I was sure," Britt admitted. "I have to say the terrain is right for the caverns. Yet, if we do not find any signs within the next couple of days, we probably should just turn around and head back to Antares." The dwarf sighed, "I just hate giving up."
"Then do not do it. I am willing to keep going. I think the others also do. However, we are running low on standard rations. We might want to do some hunting so we do not start using the Iron Preserves, even I can hunt. I have enough rope to set up snare."
"Thank you, Bard. I needed the encouragement. He told Johanna, "Once we get over the hill, we are halting."

 

"It is a risk we take. We basically are looking at what is known and what is unknown. What is known is these two great people existed. They built their reputations over the years. What is unknown is if this place exists."
"Why have you decided this forest holds the fortress?"
"Here is the map. Look on the top."
"The Caverns of K, ildun Aalda " Bard read. That is the name of the forest to the north."
"No other forests in the land have that name," George said.
"That explains it," Bard agreed. "I have never traveled much in it, except to hunt."
"From the journal that was found with the map, this fortress was built on a high stony hill. Apparently it took over twenty years to build, using both magic and man power from hundreds of slaves and laborers. Large amounts of rock were removed as the rooms were carved out of the stone. Look at the map."
"There are over fifty rooms!" he exclaimed. "This is amazing, running his fingers through his hair. "Even the houses in Antares took a long time to build. Yet, they are not nearly as complex as this."
"When are you planning to leave?" Bard asked.
"We want to give it a few days," Britt said. "First it will give you time to rest. Hopefully the weather will be a bit warmer; it seems than it is colder than normal for this time of year. Then we have business to take care of in town. We have to get supplies and food."
"I know I need to get a new sword. I have to replace the one that rust monster got. I hope it gets heart burn."
"We need to open up a bank account," Britt told Bard the next day.
"Why do you need to do that?"
"To keep our gold safe. We can not just keep traveling with the coins building up in our sacks. Eventually, they would get too heavy to carry around."
"I never thought of that," Bard admitted. "The last time I explored the Catacombs, the bags were so heavy that I barely had the strength to make it back to Antares."
"Open an account and put most of your coins in it. We have several bank accounts throughout the world. That way we travel with only what we need."
"How do you determine how many coins each person gets, when a mission is completed?"
"Everybody gets an equal share. Then each person gives ten percent of his earnings towards the rebuilding efforts."
"Even George gets an equal share?"
"I sure do," George said, joining the two. "I have no excuse to pick somebody's pockets."
"Where are the others?"
"They are at the library, researching. They are trying to see if they can find any history on Stephan and Joban. Reading is not my thing, so I decided to join you."
Bard went up to his room and gathered his coins. He would deposit them in the bank. They would be safe there anyway; too many thieves break into rooms and steal money.
"I am ready," he said, returning to the others. "We can open the account. However, how do we know one of us is not going to withdraw more than his share?" he asked, looking a George.
"Not to worry," George said, pulling out a ledger. "When you make the deposit, let me know how much. I will write it down here. That way you will know how much to withdraw. Mark you; I keep a strict eye on the books. I know how much each person withdraws. Therefore, do not try to swindle me."
Bard shook his head at the thief. "It is a good thing I am starting to like you George."

After completing the business at the bank, Bard, George and Britt went to Joe Smith's armory. "Back so soon, Bard?" the armored asked.
"I need to replace my sword. I lost it to the rust monster in the Catacombs."
Joe Smith grabbed his belly and laughed. "I can just imagine that excuse in school. 'I am sorry teacher. I did not practice because the Rust Monster ate my sword.' Well I have one you will like. It is much better than your old sword. Now, young man," he said to George, "keep your hands to yourself."
George stuck his hands into his pocket and began to whistle innocently.

After leaving the armory, the three walked slowly through the marketplace, discussing supplies.
"I have plenty of torches and oil," Bard said. "Plus I have a lantern. The only problem I had in the Catacombs was it was too hard to fight with a sword in one hand and protect myself with the shield in the other, while at the same time holding onto a lantern."
"I see well in the dark," said Britt, "just as good as the elf. However, human do not have that ability. Usually, when we go into caverns, one person is designated as the torch bearer."
"Don't you have a wooden pole?" George asked Bard.
"Yes. I bought one when we first met. I thought it may help make walking easier. Yet, I think I may have wasted my money."
"No, that was a good investment," said George. "It is useful in finding traps on the ground. Plus you can use it to poke around corners. "I even used one to poke at a suspicious looking box. It is a good thing I did. I found a trap."
"George saved our lives on our last mission. If we had walked onto the trap, we would have been impaled with spikes," Britt looked at George with respect.
"Let's go in here Bard said.”It seems that we are going to need food. I took some food with me in the Catacombs. However, the first time I never got a chance to eat until after I left."
"It is very important to eat and get rest," Britt said. "That helps you to stay strong and healthy. If you are hungry and tired, you will not fight as effectively."
"Are we going to get the usual?" George asked.
"Yes."
"What is the usual?"
There are two types of food we get. The first is standard rations. This is unpreserved food. However, these rations are not good in caverns. They become moldy and inedible if you stay overnight in damp places. From the look of things, if the caverns of Kildun Aalda exist, we may be exploring them for several days.”
"What would we eat when we are underground?"
"Iron preserved rations. They are foods that are stored in tin cans, such as ham and soup." "I always call them C-Rations. I think I heard some of the students in the warrior school call the food C-Rats for short."
"We will buy both types of rations, a weekly supply of each for every person in the party."
The three started looking through the shelves at the different food. The door of the shop slammed open. In the entrance, three warriors stood. The biggest one, a man in black plate armor, looked at Britt and started to laugh.
"Look at that midget over there! I am surprised that they make armor that small!"
The other two men laughed. They walked to a different part of the shop, the leader still cracking jokes about the dwarf.
Britt said nothing, but his face reddened. Bard clenched his hand over the hilt of his sword, ready to fight the antagonizers. He felt a hand on his arm. George slightly shook his head at Bard.
"I am going to look for supplies over there," he said.
Whistling nonchalantly, he casually walked over to the group of men, picking up a can here and there. The three men ignored them. He was standing right next to the bully. He picked up a can of food in his left hand. Bard saw George reach out with his right hand and touch the back of his armor. Then the thief hurried back to his companions.
"What was that about?" Bard asked.
"Cover your ears!"
Suddenly there was a loud crashing and clanging sound. They looked over to the warrior. Standing naked from the bottom down, the plate armor was scattered in the pile on the floor.
Two women stared at the man trying to pick up the pieces of armor with one hand while using his other hand to covered his exposed parts. They covered their mouths and started to giggle. The two men with him laughed also. Red in the face, the warrior ran out of the shop.
"It is good it is not cold today," George said.
The dwarf turned to the thief. "Just what did you do?" Seeing his face getting redder, Bard thought Britt would lose his temper.
"I just noticed this pin sticking out of his armor," he said, handing a small metal peg to Britt. "I thought I was helping him," he said innocently.
Britt barked out a laugh. "I do not know about you, George. You can be annoying at times, but you always look out for me."
The door opened again and the others had walked in. "We just saw the strangest sight," Johanna said. Britt, Bard and George burst out laughing. They quickly told them what had happened.
"Deserved them right," the elf said. "If I was in here, he would have been cracking jokes about me too."
"Why is that?" Balon asked.
"Some humans look down on individuals like elves, dwarves and halflings. We belong to the demi-human race. Even though we are distantly related to the human race, and are partially human, some humans do not see us as equals. They believe we are inferior to them."
"Maybe, some day, we will get the recognition we deserve," Britt said.

"We leave in the morning," Britt told the group later that night over dinner."
"I checked with the stables," Balon said. "There are no horses available. They are all rented out."
"Whoever heard of a stable in a stone city?" George said.
"People are renting them everyday," Bard said. "The local farmers sell feed to the owners. Maybe, when we complete our mission, we can buy some. I know a few people who sell horses."
"I forgot to pick up the iron spikes and hammer," Britt spoke up. "I have to wait until the markets open in the morning."
"That is right," George said. "You lost them on that last expedition. I also forgot to get a mirror and some rope."
"I have both," said Bard. "I got the rope to help me pull open doors."
"It also comes in handy if we have to tie up a monster," Balon said.
"I use rope to climb steep walls," George said. "The mirror will help us peek around corners. That way we will not be surprised if a monster suddenly appears in front of us."
"I have several hammers and spikes," Johanna said. "I use them to wedge doors open and to pry things loose. You can have mine, Britt."
"Thank you," the dwarf said. "I cannot climb well with a rope. What I usually do is the spikes into a wall. I use the spikes as grips for climbing."
"That reminds me," Balon said. "I stopped at the apothecary and purchased bottles of healing potion. I have four does for each of us."
"Do not forget the wolfsbane," Johanna said. "You never know if we will be attacked by werewolves.
"That settles it. We leave at dawn. Get your bags packed. Do not oversleep."
On the way up to his room, Bard noticed a man talking to the innkeeper.
"Are you sure you do not have any extra rooms?"
"I am sorry, Sir," the innkeeper said. "We are all filled up."
"I am going to be in town for a while. Do you know of anybody who is willing to rent a room?"
"Well, you can try..."
Bard interrupted. "I will be going out of town on business. He can have my room while I am gone. I can sleep in the stable tonight."
"Are you sure?" asked the man.
"It is no problem. I am leaving tomorrow. I just need time to pack my stuff."
"I appreciate your kindness."
"Bard," the innkeeper said. "I will need to reimburse you for the days you are gone."
"We can figure it out when I am return. If somebody still is in the room when I return, I can get a different one."
"Hey Bard!" yelled George. "You can stay in my room. I promise I will try not to take anything. Remember, I said try."
Bard laughed. Shaking his head, he followed George up to the room.

 

"Nobody asked you," Britt grunted.
"Sorry, Dad."
"For the last time, I am not your father!"
"George is something else," Bard thought to himself shaking his head. "If he was not so annoying, I would find his antics rather amusing."
"Well you are the father I never had. I honestly appreciate all you have done for me. If it had not been for you, I would have been at the mercy of an angry crowd."
Britt's expression softened a bit. He reached out his hand and patted the thief on his back. "Thanks, son. Why don't you explain a bit about yourself to Bard, Johanna and Balon?"
"As you already know," George began, "I am a thief. You probably do not respect me for who I am, but thieving is the only thing I know how to do effectively. I have been doing this ever since I was a child. It was something I had to do in order to survive.
"I was born in a village similar to the one you came from Bard. My parents barely had the food to feed themselves; there were times when I went days without eating. I never had an education; what I learned I knew from the streets.
"I began my thieving life when I was five years old. My parents went on a long trip and took me with them. We came to a town like this one. They left me at a market and told me to pick out some fruit. They would be right back.
"They never returned. They had abandoned me. Sometimes I am bitter because I think they had left me because they did not love me. Yet other times I believe they left me to give me the chance to live a better life.
"Therefore, I had to survive. I learned how to steal food without being seen. I studied people and saw how they carried their coins. Some were careless, such as having their pouches loosely tied to their belts. I could easily take coins from these people before they realized what was happening. Then, when they realized their money was missing, I would be gone, blended with the crowds."
"I understand," Bard said. He was starting to sympathize with the lad. Before he had entered the catacombs he also was poor. He had to fight for the coins he found.
"As I got older, I found a place in a bad part of town. This was a place where other thieves lived. It was at the Thieving Guild where I improved my skills. I learned things such as stealth, lock-picking and removing traps. While the other thieves were considered friends, they could not be trusted. I found that out one night.
"One thief was jealous of my progress. My master was planning to promote me from Apprentice to a Fox. This was because I was able to conceal myself in the shadows. Well, this thief did not want me to succeed. He set me up.
"He told me that for me to get promoted I would have to break into a prison and help another thief escape. While I was scaling the walls, another good talent I learned, the guards were tipped off.
"Here I was halfway up the wall, with arrows flying all around me. How they missed me, I have no clue. So I jumped from the wall to the ground. Then I ran through the forest. Thankfully this town did not have fortified walls like Antares has.
"I never was a fast runner and I was beginning to tire. The crowd of people chasing me had grown. If they had caught me, I am sure they would have drawn and quartered me.
"I fell to the ground, too tired to move. Then I heard a voice yelling, "Quick! Over here!"
With what energy I had left, I picked myself up and ran towards where the voice had come from. I found myself at the entrance of a mineshaft. For some off reason Britt hid me in the cart. When the mob asked if he had seen anyone, he pointed them in the direction of the river and said I had jumped in.
"I have been with Britt ever since. He treats me like his own son. You can say he reformed me. I am still a thief; I will always be a thief the rest of my life. Yet, since I get paid, I only thieve when necessary. I sometimes pick pockets for a prank. Yet, I think it is a habit that I cannot break."
"True he can be annoying at times,” Britt said. "Yet he is the one who got us involved with the goodwill missions. Before I rescued him, he had overheard that the elders of the town were looking for small groups of individuals to carry out these missions to help the poor in this world."
"I too was looking for a purpose in my life," said the elf. "I was brought up in a family where everybody was interested in feasting and dancing in woodland glades. Well, I wanted more. Therefore, I left my partying family to make a name for elves in the world.
"However, in the cities of men, I could find no work. Many people thought elves would be nothing but trouble, even though we are equal in strength and intelligence.
"I had met Britt a few days before. I knew that he was working in one of the mines outside of town. I decided to go and see him, to see if he had any work that I could do. When I found him, George was already there. He told us about the goodwill missions. We decided with our different skills, we can form an excellent team."
"I understand that elves have excellent vision," Johanna said.
"Elves have infravision and can see up to sixty feet in the dark. I can see if an item is warm or cold. Warm items appear red; where cold items appear blue."
"Aren't you immune to ghoul paralysis?" the cleric continues.
"Elves can also do the same spells as magic-users," Balon commented.
"Yes," said the elf. "We even speak different languages. I have been able to fool goblins when I speak in their tongue."
"She is almost as good as I am in finding traps," George said. "She and I usually work together if we have to look for secret and hidden doors."
"The missions are simple enough," Britt said. We explore different ruins, finding treasures. Sometimes we fought monsters, things like goblins and rats. The missions usually last no more than three days, though sometimes we spend more time traveling.
"Word got to us, thanks to George once again, that more extensive missions were being made. The elders told us of the one we are embarking on. We are to secure a fortress that is in the forest north of Antares.
"The main problem is we do not know where it is. The map the elders gave us just shows the fortress, with a little information of the surrounding area. However, it goes no further. We may spend many days searching for it. In fact, this place may never have existed.
"Well the mission is two-fold. The first is to fight the monsters and the treasures. The second is to change the fortress into a tourist attraction. The elders believe that if this fortress can draw in people, the profits can be used to help the poor.
"As we neared Antares, we realized that we needed more people. We would be fighting more monsters than before. We also had the feeling that Jeff would stand us up again. It is a good thing that we found you, Bard and both you two," Britt said to Balon and Johanna.
"While you and Britt have no magical skills,” said Balon, "I like all magic-users have poor fighting skills. Since we are forbidden to wear any type of armor, just robes, I always have to travel in the middle of a group, to be protected from attacks. I can help in battles by casting spells. I carry a dagger in case I need it in hand-to-hand combat.
"I was glad to be asked to join this mission. I am usually looking for spells. I write new ones down in a book and study them. The mission will give me the opportunity to become a seer or a conjurer.
"It is like me," Johanna said. "I want to become a priestess; I am still an Acolyte. While I can cast some spells, there are many more I must learn. While Balon and I are similar in many ways, the types of spell I use are for healing, protection and gathering information. While Balon usually used his spells during battles, my spells are either needed after battles, such as healing the wounded, or for detecting traps."
"Your spells helped in the Catacombs," Bard said. "You turned away the ghouls."
"That also may come in handy in this mission. From what I know about it, we may be facing ghouls and skeletons," Britt said.
"I can both fight and cast spells," Johanna continued. "As I told you in the Catacombs, I have to meditate to learn the spells. The details of the spell form in my mind. Then I am able to cast the spell any time after I learn it. Once I learn a spell it stays in my mind until I cast it. Then I have to meditate again to relearn the spell.
"Yet, I can only cast a couple spells a day. If I do too many at once, I have to rest and meditate before casting anymore. That was my mistake when we fought Trent. I had thought I could defeat him with my spells. However, it was too soon after I turned away the ghouls. I was too weak for him. Fortunately, I still had the energy to protect both of us."
"That is true," said Britt. "With the group of us on this mission, we may be better prepared."
"Speaking of which," said Bard, "what is this mission about?"
 


Chapter 2--The Mission

"It may be easier to give a bit of the history," Britt began. "Many years ago, there was a fighter and wizard from Antares. Stephan, the fearless..."
"I heard of him," Bard exclaimed. "People in the village knew of his reputation; my grand-father told me stories when he fought in the Barbarian Invasion. The elders and sages in town always talked of him with awe, respect and admiration."
"That is what our mission is about, to see how much of Stephan's background are facts and which are just stories. Stephan the fearless was one of the greatest warriors of all time. However, he did not accomplish this by himself. He became friends with Joban, one of the most powerful practiciner of the arts of magic and sorcery."
This time Balon smiled and nodded his head.
"No one knows what caused these two men to join forces. Yet they created a strong bond together. Their friendship created a union that lasted their entire lives."
"Shortly after their friendship began, the two disappeared from civilization. They were two individuals who, while they were close to each other, did not like other people. They decided to build a home that was also used as their base of operations. Since they did not like and trust intruders, they built this stronghold away from civilization. It was said that this hideaway was constructed as far away from traveled roads as possible."
"Does this place even exist?" Bard asked.
Unfortunately, no one knows for sure. That is what we are to find out on this mission. If it does exist, it is well-hidden in this forest."
"I see," said Bard, smiling. "Well, what does this fortress look like, being that it may not exist?"
"Leave it for us to get a smart aleck for a warrior," Britt grunted.
"Sorry," said Bard. "Just won't we just be wasting our time if we discover nothing on this mission?"

 

In the first adventure

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