All of a sudden, George yelled, “Shyla! Get off him!”
The creature dropped from Bard’s back and ran and cowered in a corner of the cavern.
“Shyla, it is me, George. There is nothing to be afraid of. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
“George?” a scared female voice answered. “It cannot be, George is dead.”
“No it is me. You had heard wrong. I got away. Please come out and we can talk.”
A female, smaller than George, timidly approached the two. She looked at him. She started weeping. “I cannot believe it! It is you. I was told that you jumped in a river and drowned.”
“My friend only said that to protect me.”
The girl stepped closer. Bard saw that despite her disheveled hair and haggard face, that she was very pretty. No wonder why George was in love with her.
“Is he your friend?” Shyla looked at Bard.
“I hope so,” George said.
“He actually is more like a little brother,” Bard replied.
“Shyla, what happened to you. I returned to the thieving guild and you were gone. How did you end up in the caverns? How have you been surviving?”
“When I though you were dead, I could not stay there. I decided to make it out on my own. You know how I was as a thief. Well, I decided to join a group coming this way and not tell them how bad I was.”
“We saw bodies when we first entered.”
“Yes, it is a shame that I never got to know them. I did not even know their names. I, more or less kept to my self. Well, it seemed that they knew less about their skills than I did about thieving. We were attacked as soon as we entered the caverns. I was the only one who got away alive.”
“Why are you still here?” Bard asked.
“I did not pay attention when we were traveling. The forest is so boi, I knew I would get lost as soon as I got one hundred yards away.My mind was always on you George and filled with bitterness for how that thief set you up.”
“I do want to find him some day and get even with him.”
“Oh, you do not have to worry about that,” Shyla said. “You may not realize this but you had many friends at the thieving guild. Joseph was caught with important confidential government papers. Now he is in prison and will nto see the sun for a long time.”
“Who set him up?”
Shyla grinned.
“You were not a good thief. However, you always did an excellent job in getting even with people.”
“Yes, I remember those pranks you played on me. Then I would always come up with something better.”
“How long have you been in the caverns?” Bard asked.
“Three months.”
“How have you been surviving? What have you been eating?” George shuddered as he picture her eating spider eggs.
“I have been getting food, mostly wheat and flour from the storeroom.”
“That must have been your footprint we saw.”
“Why are you in the lower level. It seems toi be dangerous. I even want to get out of here,” Bard said.
“How did you ever get down here?” George asked. “Bard was almost melted by the ochre jelly.”
“I fell through a trapdoor on the upper level,” Shyla said. “I landed in the pool of water.”
George embraced Shyla. “I am never going to let you go again,” he said sobbing, not ashamed that Bard saw him like this. “I love you Shyla. I wished I had told you this before.”
Shyla reached up with her hand and gently caressed his tear-wet cheek. “George, I love you also. I never told you because I did not think that you had the same feelings. I thought you just saw us as friends and nothing else.”
“Shyla, you are shivering.” He took a blanket out of his bag. He was thankful that Britt had suggested this before going to the lower level. He had known it would be cold and damp.”
Bard reached into his bag and pulled out several cans of C-Rations. “Before we move on, we should rest and get something to eat. I am sure shyla would want something better than stale food.”
They sat eating the food quietly. George kept his arm around Shyla’s shoulder, determined to protect her in what ever way he could. His fear of being in the lower level was gone now that he had his Shyla back. Bard stood watch while George and Shyla slept. While he knew the protection blankets would protect them from wandering mosters and other unpleasant things, he wanted to watch for Britt and the others. Still, it was getting colder down here by the second. Putting his own blanket on him, he sat down next to George. The warmth of the blanket chased away the chills.

“Wake up, Bard!” Bard slowly opened his eyes as a boot nudged him gently in the legs.
Britt was grinning down at him. The others were here with his im the chamber.
Bard rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He had not meant to fll asleep. “How did you find us?” he asked.
“Boy, your snoring is loud enough to wake the dead!” Britt laughed.
Bard reached over to the two snuggled up next to him. Gently shaking the thief, he said, “George, wake up. Britt found us.”
The thief mumbled, “Leave us alone, we are trying to sleep.” There was silence that a small snore. Then all of a sudden George sat straight up. “Was I dreaming or did you say Britt is here?”
“What am I going to do with you, George?” Britt asked. “You are always getting into trouble.”
George ran to the dwarf and embraced him. “I though that I would never see you again.”
“Please,” the dwarf said. “Do not scare us again like that. You had us all worried. It is a good thing Bard was with you.”
“Thanks to George, I was almost eaten by a spider.”
Britt looked over to George’s blanket and saw that it was trying to move. “Okay George, what are you hiding? I thought I told you that you can have no more pets.”
George ran over to the blanket and gently shook Shyla. “Shyla, wake up. We found our friends.”
A young woman, slightly smaller than George sat up and began rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
Britt was thunderstruck, “Is that...? It cannot be.”
“Yes this is Shyla. Those were her footprints we found upstairs.”
By now Shyla was standing and looking around.
“This is Shyla and these are my friends. You already met Bard and this is Britt, who is a father to me.”
Shyla smiled shyly at the dwarf and then her eyes fell on the familiar robes that magic users wore. She stared an Balon an began to back slowly away in fear.
George did not notice and continued to introduce the others. This is Johanna; she is a cleric and this…Shyla, what is wrong?”
She continued to stare at Balon. “It is you!” she hissed. “Stay away from me!” She ran and cowered in the corner of the cavern.
“Shyla!” George ran over to her. “Balon is my friend. He will not hurt you.” He looked to Balon and saw that he had lowered his head and slumped to the ground in despair.
“He…he…he…killed the others.” Shyla started sobbing hysterically and allGeorge could do was hold her and comfort her. He looked at the others. Even though he did not say anything, his eyes said, “Help me.”
Johanna approached and said. “Balon is kind and gentle. He will not hurt you.”
Balon stood and approached the others. He stopped a respectful distance away. Shyla saw in the light that he had tears running down his cheeks.
“Please,” said the magic-user dejectedly. “If I have done you any wrong, let me know. If I killed someone, it was an accident. I only kill what is evil.”
“He has a blue aura,” said Massacharamar. “That means he is good and lawful. We witnessed this ourselves. He he was anything but good, his aura would have been yellow.”
Shyla licked her dry lips. “A magic-user was the main cause of their deaths.” She quickly told the others of how she got involved with the unfortunate fighter and dwarf.
“The magic-user that was with them told the berserkers to attack. He spoke in some sort of language that sounded like souls burning in hell. It was horrid; I had to cover my ears.”
“But we found the magic user impaled with a sword. It had gone rigt through his body and into the wall,” Bard said.
Shyla, not taking her eyes off Balon, said, “He impaled himself. He took the sword in his hands and thrust it right through his own heart. He was laughing when he did it.”
Balon wailed and put his head in his hands. Sobbing, he fell to the ground.
“Balon!” George and Johanna yelled at the same time and ran to him. Shyla, seeing George’s gentleness as he tried to soothe the magic-user, helped get het composed. She know knew Balon was not like the evil magic-user. She walked over to him and knelt by his side and gently rubbed his back.
Britt helped the magic-user sit up. “Have some of my wine,” he said handing him his flask.
“I promise that I will never hurt you or anybody else in this chamber. I will die first before I do!”
Shyla sat next to him and held his hand. “I know now that you are good. I am sorry that I was too harsh.” Just as George had held her, she held Balon and comforted him.
Soon Balon had composed himself. However, his face was very pale. “I promise that I will die first before I hurt any of you.”
Johanna said, “Balon, I have known you all my life. You have been a father figure and a very good friend. In all these years, you have been nothing but gentle. You have never killed or hurt anything, unless if you found it necessary.”
Balon took a deep breath. “It may explain why I was able to communicate with the orcs.. I never was able to do that before.”
“I thought you new how to speak, in the orcish tongue.”
“I can speak to orcs in the common language and they can hear me in their tounge. I spoke to the orcs in their own tounge, orcish. That is one language I do not want to learn.”
“How did you communicate, then,” Johanna asked, dreading the answer.
“I have been affected by the dead magic user’s spirit. I am afraid that his evil has entered my body. There is only one thing I can do, but leave.”
“You cannot leave us,” Johanna said. “You are our friend; you have to stay.”
“If I stay, I may bring harm to the ones close to me.”
“Your aura is blue.”
“True,” he said. “I will stay. If I leave, if the evil overtakes my goodness, I might be protecting you. However, I may be bringing harm to others. There is a way, I can protect you.” Balon, once again became the calm and gentle magic-user his friends grew acquainted with. “George, can I speak to you for a few minutes.”
The thief went to Balon and they stood to the side.
Balon reached into his robes and pulled out a dagger with jewels and carving etched on the handle. “I am giving you this. If you never have to use it, that will be good. It will be yours to keep.”
George stared at the beautiful knife. Alone, it was worth more in gold pieces than any of the other gems they had already found. “Why are you giving this to me? I do not deserve something like this.”
“Even though you are nothing but a thief, you have more courage than any other person I see. You are always alert and jump into action immediately. If you see me, or even expect me, trying to harm others in the group, you must stab this through my heart. Not only will it set me free, it will also kill the evil spirit. The blade is long enough where you can stab me right through the back.”
“I cannot do that,” George said.
“I hope you never have to do that,” the magic-user returned. “You may wonder why I am carrying this knife.”

 

I worked on a previous chapter and edited it. Even though the word count is higher, I am going with 2,000 extra words I added

Johanna looked around. “It is so dark, our lanterns are not casting enough light for us to walk easily in.”
“That is why we did not notice the ochre jelly lurking over our heads,” Britt said.
“I think I may be able to help,” Balon said. “Give me a minute.”
He closed his eyes and his body became rigid.
“What is happening to him?” Bard whispered to Johanna, startled.
“He is meditating, trying to bring one of his spells to the surface.”
Balon breathed deeply, slowly exhaling and inhaling with each breath. A flicker, just for a moment expelled from his body. Then it was gone. However, he continued with his breathing rhymth. The flicker came again and this time it did not disappear. His entire body soon had a faint yellow line outlining his body. Once the outline was completed, the line expanded from his body until the magic-user was consumed by a globe of light that expanded sixty feet across.
“Wow,” whispered Bard, surprised. The light emitted from Balon’s body, bounced off the walls around them. They were not finished and smooth like the rooms in the upper level; they were unfinished and irregular. From where they were standing, the passageways were about ten feet wide.
“No wonder it is had to read the map for the lower level,” George said. He looked to the ground, whch was covered by rock and debris. “We would have tripped on something, if we only relied on our lanterns for a source of light.”
“Remember,” said Britt, “there probably are not any doors down here. IF we are looking for a cavern, we may have to look for areas where rock has fallen and blocked a passage.”
Soon Balon started breathing normally and he opened his eyes. He looked around.
“It worked,” he said smiling.
“You are a seer,” said Johanna.
“I thought you were a medium,” said Balon.
“As I use more magic, I build my experience. It is like you Bard, you build your experience by fighting. Even though you are just a veteran fighter, I see in the near future that you will become a swordmaster.”
“How do you know when you can use a spell?”
“My own self tells me when I am ready. I meditate and learn all spells. If I try to perform a spell and I do not have the experience to do it yet, my self warns me.”
“What happens if you still try to perform a spell after you have been warned.”
“The spell could possible work. However, my body may not be ready to perform the spell and I can die doing it.”
With the steady globe of light coming from the magic-users, the group were able to walk down the passageway without stumbling into each other. They keft the chamber where Bard almost met his end and followed a passageway that winded first to the south then went to the northwest.
“We can either go down this one,” George said, “or continue up the one we are on.” They had reached an area of the passage way where it continued to go north. It also branched back to the east.
“Let’s go down this one,” Britt said, indicating the one that branched to the east. “If there is nothing down there, we will come back to the main one.”
They traveled a short distance and an open cavern stood to their left. “I would not be surprised if we are close to the entrance back to the upper level,” Balon said.
George glanced down at his map. “You are right, Balon. All we would have to do is dig through the wall and we will be back right where we started. Since we found a room, we can explore.”

They were standing in an ante-chamber that was empty except for a large piece of green rock that was glowing.
“Be careful,” Balon warned, as Britt reached out to touch it.
“It is only mica,” the dwarf replied. “Still I wonder what is making it glow.”
“Let me see,” George said and picked up a piece that had peel off from the main foundation.
“From what you taught me, I think you are right, Britt. Yet, there is one way to find out.” He put the piece in his mouth and bit down.
“George! What do you think you are…”
Bard reached out and grabbed George’s arm.
The two disappeared into thin air.
“doing!” finished Britt.
“What happened?” Johanna asked.
“They teleported to another part of the Caverns,” Balon said.
“George is alone!” Britt yelled. “He will not be able to defend himself! We have to find him!”
“Bard went with him,” Massacharamar said. “He will protect him.”

George looked around. “This definitely mica,” he said. “Mica with magical properties.” He bit down on the stone again. However, nothing happened.
“Where are we,” George said drawing his sword.
Bard held his lantern up and looked around. “This look like a cave. What is this stuff?” Bard asked pulling sticky stuff from his hair.
“It looks like web.”
“How do we get out of here?”
“It looks like an entrance over there. It is all covered with web. We have to cut our way out…”
A scurrying noise cut off George’s sentence.
“Be quiet,” Bard whispered. “I think there might be sp…”
In the next instance Bard was covered with a web.
“I cannot move!” he yelled. “Get out of here, now!”
A large spider approached Bard, unaware of George standing a few feet awaw.
George, with his knife in his hand, sprung on its back and sank it into the spider’s back. The creature fell to the ground, dead.
He ran over to Bard and started cutting the robe like-web from the warrior. “At least he did not have a tail to grab me.” Finally, Bard was freed. George looked at him and shaked his head. “How do you get yourself into these situations.”
Bard did not say anything but drew his sword. “We have to cut through this web to get out of here. There may be more spiders, so be careful.”
“Bard, we may be expecting parents.” George pointed to a section of the cave. Ten giant eggs, laying in the web, looked like they were starting to crack.
“Help me over here. Then we will take care of those.”
They finally cleared an entrance to get them back into the corridor.
“Hold my lantern,” Bard said. He started to feel around in his backpack
“What are you doing?”
“I am looking for my tinderbox. If those eggs hatch, we are going to have problems.”
“No. Please do not do that,” George pleaded. “They will not hurt us. Once they are hatched, they will go outdoors. The one spider was just looking for food.”
“You call me just food?” Bard laughed.
“Probably bad tasting as it is.”
Bard pretended to punch him.
“Spiders are not evil and I do not think it would be right to kill them, especially since they are babies. Let’s save the killing for the evil ones.”
“Let’s go and find the others,” Bard said, putting his tinderbox back in his bag.



“Shouldn’t we try to find George?” Britt asked. “If we bite down on another piece of stone, we should be teleported to the same place.”
“I would not do that,” Balon warned. “This type of stone is unpredictable.”
“What do you mean?”
“This stone does things at random. You may bite down on it and nothing happens. Sometimes the stone will help you. For example, it may heal you or make you wiser. However, it can also curse you. One person, I remember, went into a deep sleep for several days until the curse wore off.”
“So it is better just to look for George?” Massacharamar asked.
“Yes.”
“What if he tries the stone to teleport back to us?”
“The stone is useless now. Once it is used, the magical properties are gone.”
“What do we do, wait for them or look for them?” Johanna asked.
“I say that we look for them,” Britt said. “Who knows what trouble George got himself into.”
The left the chamber and started walking south.
There is a cavern up ahead.
“Be careful,” Balon said. “There are only four of us.” When he saw Britt’s face became pale, he added, “that is until George and Britt join us again.”
He hoped that he was right.

George and Bard walked a short distance and came upon another cavern. However, there was nothing in it. “I wonder how far we are from the others,” the thief wondered.
“We are still in the lower level.” He knew this just by looking around the walls. They were irregual, rough and unfinished.
“I do not think Stephan and Joban ever got around to getting this fortress of theirs finished.”
“I see what you mean, said George. “The upper level, from what I can see is complete. Even though, all the rooms are full of dust, they can be lived in. However, on this level, only the museum and are finished. I wonder what their plans were for the rest of the lower level.”
“That may be a mystery to us, forever. Still, if the elders are planning to make this a tourist attraction, they may want to consider sealing off a majority of the lower level. It can be dangerous.” Just as he said this, Bard tripped on a piece of uneven floor and fell to the ground.
“Are you okay, Bard?” George asked him. For once, there was no laughter in his voice and even had a hint of fear.
“Yes,” he said getting up. “How about you?”
“To be honest, this is the first time I have been underground like this. When went on missions, when we were underground, we were always near the entrance. This is different; it feels like the walls are closing in on me.”
Bard understood. Even when he had ventured into the catacombs, he was not this far underground. If he did not get out of here soon, he could go mad.
“I wish Britt and the others were here.”
“Just keep going, George. Things will be fine.” He took one of his knives out and laid it on the floor of the cavern, with the blade pointing to the west.
“What are you doing?”
I am hoping to leave a sign for them to see. It shows the others which direction we went.
“Good thinking, Bard.”

“This one is empty,” Britt said, disappointedly looking around.
“They can be anywhere,” Balon said. “We will just continue as we have been before. Knowing how George is, he can be around a corner ready to pull a practical joke on us.”
“True,” said Britt, unconvinced.
“He has the best sense of direction,” Massacharamar said. “He probably will make it back to the library. I bet when we get back up there, he will be sitting in that divan, reading from one of the books.”
“When I get a hold of him,” said Britt, “I am going to knock some sense into the boy. Then I will buy him all the books he wants out of my own cash.”
“I think we will all do that,” said Johanna.
After coming to antoher empty cavern, Balon said, “Let’s get back to the main passageway, and continue traveling north.”


Bard looked at the pile of stones in front of him. It looked like some had fallen away, leaving a hole. “I think there may be a cavern. Stand back and watch my back.”
Within minutes enough rocks were cleared away and they were able to crawl into a small cavern.
Bard shone his lantern and the light reflected off the sunken eye sockets of a corpse.
“George, be careful,” Bard warned as the thief approached the body. “You remember wheat had happened in the throne room with the ghouls.”
George found a pole laying near the body and prodded it with it. However, the body, sitting propped against the wall of the room, fell over to its side.
“No, it was somebody unlucky enough to not survive the caverns.”
Bard approached George and cast more light on the body.
“This happened a long time ago.” The body only contained bones and the tattered remains of leather armor. All the flesh had decayed away.
“A thief,” George said. “I wonder if he was belonged to the party that the beserkers killed?
“No this happened before that,” Bard answered. “It must have been at least a year.”
George suddenly wanted to get out of the the room, out of the caverns and as far away as possible. “I wondered what happened to him.”
Bard looked closely at the neck bones and saw two marks. “It looks like he was bitten by a giant spider. They are very poisonous and he probably did not have a healing potion with him. It appears that he just crawled in here to die.”
George caught a glitter on the remains of the thief’s cloak. He bent down and removed decorated silver stud that was used to fasten it.
“I wonder how many times the caverns have been explored.”
“I believe that he just came in by himself,” George was looking through a purse that was lying near the remains. Some thieves will go through extremes to get extra money. They do not have any regard for their own safety.” He removed eight gold and eight silver pieces and handed them and the silver stud to Bard. “I personally would rather leave these. It is one thing when you find treasures that monsters are guarding. However, when if comes to a fellow comrade, even one I do not personally know, it is different.”
“I understand,” Bard said. He looked at the skeletal hands of the body of the thief. It was still grasping a crossbow. “This is still in excellent shape,” he said picking it up and looking at it. “We may need this.”
“Here is a quiver of arrows,” George said.
Bard fitted an arrow into the crossbow and handed it to George.
“This will be better that your knife. Have you ever used one before?”
“Massacharmar taught me. But I have only used it while we hunted. It has been a while and I might be a little rusty.”
“Just make sure that I am not in the way.”

“There is another side passage just ahead,” Massacharamar said. Thanks to the light coming from Balon, she was able to make it out easily.
Britt did not see any thing, but made a silent plea, “Help me find George. And also Bard, I keep forgetting about him.”
The corridor sloped downhill and at the bottom was a cavern. The walls were went with water, which glictened like diamonds and the light reflected off the droplets.
“A sunken cavern,” said Britt.
While the small cavern next to it was empty, the one across from these two was considerably larger. The floor were even and level. However, when they approached the center, the floor sloped downwards. The middle of the carven was about twenty feet lower than the even surface of the floor.
“Look at the slope,” said Balon. He sat down. “I believe these are seats that have been carved from the rocks.”
Balon and the other sat next to him.
“I wonder if this was some sort of arena,” Johanna said.
“I think it is,” said Massacharamar. “However, was it an arean for men to train in. Or was it just for entertainment?”
“Are you thinking that Stephan and Balon put some innocent human down there and watched in enjoyment as he was torn apart by some vicious beasts?”
“Hopefully,” said Balon, “we will never find out.”
“I agree,” said Britt. “If we ever did find that was the use for this cavern, I would totally lose respect for both of these men.”
“That also goes for me,” said Balon.
When they left the arena, Johanna asked, “What is that glow?”
“It is coming from Balon,” said Britt.
“No, there is something glowing from over there,” she said pointing to the left.
“I see it too,” said Massacharamar.
Sure enough, there was, coming from another cavern, a soft purple phosphorescent glow. They walked to the cavern and all the walls were illuminated. Balon did not have to use his own light source in this cavern, there was enough light. n However, where was it coming from?
Massacharamar walked over to the wall. “There is a purplish mold on the walls.” She looked up. “It is even on the ceiling. The light is coming from the mold.”
“We better leave,” said Britt, remembering the mold in the garden room. “It could be dangerous.”
“This one is harmless,” said the elf. “We have this in my homeland. I just cannot remember its name.”
After making sure the room was secure, Britt said, “While I want to continue on and look for George and Bard, and believe me I would if I was alone, I think we will do better if we eat and rest for a while. I think we will do better if we have a clear and fresh start.”


After they left the hidden cavern where they found the skeletal remains of the thief, Bard and Geroge traveled up the northern passageway.
“They can be anywhere,” said George. “Who will take care of Britt, if we can not find him!”
“The others are with him,” said Bard. “Do not worry, we will find them.”
George halted. “What’s wrong?” asked Bard.
The thief held up his hand and waved for Bard to be quiet. Tilting his head, he listened.
“I hear running water, like a stream. It is just ahead. Come on! What are you waiting for?”
Keeping his sword ready, Bard followed George. Just ahead of them was a large pull of water. It was twenty feet across and approximately eight feet wide. A nearby stream was feeding it.
“I wonder if this was the pool that Johanna almost feel into,” Bard said, remembering the trap she had stumbled across on the upper level.
George looked up towards the ceiling but could not see anything through the darkness above their heads. “I can not tell…” All of a sudden he saw a figure sneak out from the shadows. “Bard! Look out!”
Even as George yelled his warning, he felt something leap onto his back. Whatever, it was, it was small and light. It was striking at his back with a weapon like a rock or a small knife. However, whatever weapon it was using, it was not doing any harm.
Reaching back with his arm, he tried to grab at the creature. However, he could not grab it effectively. Hopefully, George would not try to use the crossbow on the creature. With his luck, he would miss his target and impale him instead.
However, George only stared at the attacker in shock. Why was he not doing anything to help him?

 

“Fire!” Balon yelled and fire surged out of his fingers. The omega stopped constricting and started to burn.
“You are going to burn Bard alive!” Johanna cried.
Balon stopped the fire. “See if you can pull him from the jelly.”
Johanna reached into the substance, grabbed Bard’s arm and pulled. Even though, she felt a slight tingling from the jelly, most of the acid was destroyed by Balon’s fire. “I cannot move him!” she yelled.
“Britt, stand by with you hammer! Johanna, let go of Bard! Freezia!” he yelled as ice now shot from his fingers. The omega was frozen into a giant chunk of ice.
“Break Bard free!” Britt, Massacharamar started hitting the ice around Bards head with their hammers. George grabbed his knife and started chipping.
Soon Bard was free from the ice. However, he was unconscious. His exposed skin was burned beyond recognition. George ran to his bag and pulled out his healing potion. “Here you go buddy. You gave me yours so you can have mine.”
“Do not expect me to kiss you,” Bard said weakly.
“Let him rest,” Britt said. “He nearly had a close one. Bard’s damaged skin was almost healed. While the acid could have dissolved the armor, the omeba was removed in enough time to save him.
“George, let me look at that burn on your face,” Johanna said, taking about the mark where the omeba had struck him.
“It is only a scratch,” George said. “Let’s save the healing potions for emergencies.”
Balon once again used his fire spell to melt the remains of the Ochre jelly. As the ice melted down he noticed several stones fall away from the ice. He picked them up and returned to the others.
“It appears that while the acid eats away metal and flesh, it does not harm rocks.”
“That is why it was able to lurk over our heads,” Massacharamar said. “It did not eat the rock away.”
“Nor did the acid eat these rocks,” he said handing Britt several Amethyst and Peridot gems. Nor this one,” he added, handing the dwarf a giant Garnet.”
“These are worth over 1,000 gold pieces,” Britt said. “What we found so far is worth the trip here. We can return our findings to the elders and just call this mission completed.”
“What about this place and their plans for it?” George asked.
“We will just say that it is too dangerous,” Britt said.
Bard, getting stronger by the minute said, “We should all agree whther to give up. If one person wants to leave, then we all leave. I have the first vote. Not me.”
“Not me,” said George.
“Not me,” said Johanna and Balon together.
“Not me,” said Massacharmar. “That leaves you Britt. If you want to leave, we will respect your decision.”
“Not me,” said Britt. He looked around, they were is what looked like a mining shaft. Even though there had been no work recently, the equipment was like it was just brand new. He picked up a pickaxe and handed it to Bard. “You are going to need this, since you lost your sword.”
“I can just hear Joe Smith when I tell him that a jelly monster ate my sword. He never let me forget about the rust monster.”


Chapter
CAVERN OF THE MYSTICAL STONE.

They were standing in an ante-chamber that was empty except for a large piece of green rock that was glowing.
“Be careful,” Balon warned, as Britt reached out to touch it.
“It is only mica,” the dwarf replied. “Still I wonder what is making it glow.”
“Let me see,” George said and picked up a piece that had peel off from the main foundation.
“From what you taught me, I think you are right, Britt. Yet, there is one way to find out.” He put the piece in his mouth and bit down.
“George! What do you think you are…”
Bard reached out and grabbed George’s arm.
The two disappeared into thin air.
“doing!” finished Britt.
“What happened?” Johanna asked.
“They teleported to another part of the Caverns,” Balon said.
“George is alone!” Britt yelled. “He will not be able to defend himself! We have to find him!”
“Bard went with him,” Massacharamar said. “He will protect him.”
George looked around. “This definitely mica,” he said. “Mica with magical properties.” He bit down on the stone again. However, nothing happened.
“Where are we,” George said drawing his sword.
Bard held his lantern up and looked around. “This look like a cave. What is this stuff?” Bard asked pulling sticky stuff from his hair.
“It looks like web.”
“How do we get out of here?”
“It looks like an entrance over there. It is all covered with web. We have to cut our way out…”
A scurrying noise cut off George’s sentence.
“Be quiet,” Bard whispered. “I think there might be sp…”
In the next instance Bard was covered with a web.
“I cannot move!” he yelled. “Get out of here, now!”
A large spider approached Bard, unaware of George standing a few feet awaw.
George, with his knife in his hand, sprung on its back and sank it into the spider’s back. The creature fell to the ground, dead.
He ran over to Bard and started cutting the robe like-web from the warrior. “At least he did not have a tail to grab me.” Finally, Bard was freed. George looked at him and shaked his head. “How do you get yourself into these situations.”
Bard did not say anything but drew his sword. “We have to cut through this web to get out of here. There may be more spiders, so be careful.”
“Bard, we may be expecting parents.” George pointed to a section of the cave. Ten giant eggs, laying in the web, looked like they were starting to crack.
“Help me over here. Then we will take care of those.”
They finally cleared an entrance to get them back into the corridor.
“Hold my lantern,” Bard said. He started to feel around in his backpack
“What are you doing?”
“I am looking for my tinderbox. If those eggs hatch, we are going to have problems.”
“No. Please do not do that,” George pleaded. “They will not hurt us. Once they are hatched, they will go outdoors. The one spider was just looking for food.”
“You call me just food?” Bard laughed.
“Probably bad tasting as it is.”
Bard pretended to punch him.
“Spiders are not evil and I do not think it would be right to kill them, especially since they are babies. Let’s save the killing for the evil ones.”
“Let’s go and find the others,” Bard said, putting his tinderbox back in his bag.



“Shouldn’t we try to find George?” Britt asked. “If we bite down on another piece of stone, we should be teleported to the same place.”
“I would not do that,” Balon warned. “This type of stone is unpredictable.”
“What do you mean?”
“This stone does things at random. You may bite down on it and nothing happens. Sometimes the stone will help you. For example, it may heal you or make you wiser. However, it can also curse you. One person, I remember, went into a deep sleep for several days until the curse wore off.”
“So it is better just to look for George?” Massacharamar asked.
“Yes.”
“What if he tries the stone to teleport back to us?”
“The stone is useless now. Once it is used, the magical properties are gone.”
“What do we do, wait for them or look for them?” Johanna asked.
“I say that we look for them,” Britt said. “Who knows what trouble George got himself into.”
The left the chamber and started walking south.
There is a cavern up ahead.
“Be careful,” Balon said. “There are only four of us.” When he saw Britt’s face became pale, he added, “that is until George and Britt join us again.”
He hoped that he was right.

George and Bard walked a short distance and came upon another cavern. However, there was nothing in it. “I wonder how far we are from the others,” the thief wondered.
“We are still in the lower level.” He knew this just by looking around the walls. They were irregual, rough and unfinished.
“I do not think Stephan and Joban ever got around to getting this fortress of theirs finished.”
“I see what you mean, said George. “The upper level, from what I can see is complete. Even though, all the rooms are full of dust, they can be lived in. However, on this level, only the museum and are finished. I wonder what their plans were for the rest of the lower level.”
“That may be a mystery to us, forever. Still, if the elders are planning to make this a tourist attraction, they may want to consider sealing off a majority of the lower level. It can be dangerous.” Just as he said this, Bard tripped on a piece of uneven floor and fell to the ground.
“Are you okay, Bard?” George asked him. For once, there was no laughter in his voice and even had a hint of fear.
“Yes,” he said getting up. “How about you?”
“To be honest, this is the first time I have been underground like this. When went on missions, when we were underground, we were always near the entrance. This is different; it feels like the walls are closing in on me.”
Bard understood. Even when he had ventured into the catacombs, he was not this far underground. If he did not get out of here soon, he could go mad.
“I wish Britt and the others were here.”
“Just keep going, George. Things will be fine.” He took one of his knives out and laid it on the floor of the cavern, with the blade pointing to the west.
“What are you doing?”
I am hoping to leave a sign for them to see. It shows the others which direction we went.
“Good thinking, Bard.”

Bard looked at the pile of stones in front of him. It looked like some had fallen away, leaving a hole. “I think there may be a cavern. Stand back and watch my back.”
Within minutes enough rocks were cleared away and they were able to crawl into a small cavern.
Bard shone his lantern and the light reflected off the sunken eye sockets of a corpse.
“George, be careful,” Bard warned as the thief approached the body. “You remember wheat had happened in the throne room with the ghouls.”
George found a pole laying near the body and prodded it with it. However, the body, sitting propped against the wall of the room, fell over to its side.
“No, it was somebody unlucky enough to not survive the caverns.”
Bard approached George and cast more light on the body.
“This happened a long time ago.” The body only contained bones and the tattered remains of leather armor. All the flesh had decayed away.
“A thief,” George said. “I wonder if he was belonged to the party that the beserkers killed?
“No this happened before that,” Bard answered. “It must have been at least a year.”
George suddenly wanted to get out of the the room, out of the caverns and as far away as possible. “I wondered what happened to him.”
Bard looked closely at the neck bones and saw two marks. “It looks like he was bitten by a giant spider. They are very poisonous and he probably did not have a healing potion with him. It appears that he just crawled in here to die.”
George caught a glitter on the remains of the thief’s cloak. He bent down and removed decorated silver stud that was used to fasten it.
“I wonder how many times the caverns have been explored.”
“I believe that he just came in by himself,” George was looking through a purse that was lying near the remains. Some thieves will go through extremes to get extra money. They do not have any regard for their own safety.” He removed eight gold and eight silver pieces and handed them and the silver stud to Bard. “I personally would rather leave these. It is one thing when you find treasures that monsters are guarding. However, when if comes to a fellow comrade, even one I do not personally know, it is different.”
“I understand,” Bard said. He looked at the skeletal hands of the body of the thief. It was still grasping a crossbow. “This is still in excellent shape,” he said picking it up and looking at it. “We may need this.”
“Here is a quiver of arrows,” George said.
Bard fitted an arrow into the crossbow and handed it to George.
“This will be better that your knife. Have you ever used one before?”
“Massacharmar taught me. But I have only used it while we hunted. It has been a while and I might be a little rusty.”
“Just make sure that I am not in the way.”

 

It spoke, “Brave adventurer, Joban, you hav made it this far. You passed the tests and obstacles I have set out. You got through both the seen and the unseen. Even where your strength failed you at times, your determination allowed you to succedd.
“Many people ran at the first sign of danger. You did not do that. Even though you used magic to help you throughout the tasks, you realized the key to reaching your destination was by using a clear mind.
Gallapas’s ghost floated behind me. As I turned to face it again, it spoke, “You are the only one who made it this far. You are my soul heir.While you found many valuable and magical objects throughout my castle, the most valuable treasure is within you. All that I have learned throughout the years is now within you. You will have more magical powers that you ever though it was possible to obtain. I give you all my knowledge and wisdom.” In an instant my mind became a universe that I had no idea how I would be able to handle everything that entered into my mind at once. Then it organized itself into different parts of my brain. When I needed that information, it would come forth, then receed back into the blackness of my mind and be retained until I needed it again.
“There is nothing more that you can do in this castle. I will depart this place and go to the heavenly realms. This place will eventually decay and rot in age. Never return to this forsaken place. However, you will leave you my ring to show you that you are my rightful heir.”
The ghost slowly disintegrated into air. The breeze that was flowing around me disappeared. On my ring a sterling silver ring appeared; there was a body of a tiger engraved on it. I decided there was nothing more I could do in this castle. Already the walls started to become black and moldy with age. I stepped out of the room.
All of a sudden everything turned black. I did not lose consciousness and was aware of my surroundings. It was not even for a second. Then once again I could see once again. I was no longer in Gallapas’s Castle, but standing next to the fireplace at the Stoneville Inn. Patrons were too busy talking and laughing over their mead and ale that thye did not seem surprised to see me suddenly appear. However, one person noticed, the man who told me ablout this marvelous place.
He walked up to me. “Congratulations, Joban! I knew you could do it!”
Clasping my hand, he shok it. Then he noticed the ring on my hand. Do you know why you were able to survive the castle?”
I never thought about it.
“Gappalpas has chosen you to be his heir. This ring is his gift to you. Even though it is worth over a thousand gold pieces, do not sell it. It will be worth more to you throughout your entire life!”
I smiled to myself. Yes. I am finally happy. I have found worth and a purpose in my very existence.

Note: To the intruder who found this journal: Do not expect to become my heir. I am not generous like Gallapas was. I am and always will be selfish, even when I am dead. Also, the ring that I was given was given to me alone. Once I die it will become a piece of worthless junk. Once I die it will be teleported back to this fortress. If you have found it, that means that I am dead.

“That is the end of the journal,” said George.
“That ring I found in Joban’s laboratory,” Johanna said, “was that possibly the ring?”
“I believe so,” so said Balon. “He was right, it is not worth anything. What do you think, Britt?”
There was no answer from the dwarf. He had closed his eyes and was starting to snore.

Chapter ?
The Entrance to the Lower Level

“I remember there was another hallway to the east of the throne room,” Johanna said. It was the next morning. They were awake with the effects of the ale worn off.
The left the captains quarters and headed back to the throne room. The hallway winded and they were in a room that had chairs stacked up against the walls.
“This must be a storage room,” Britt said looking at two tables that were stacked upon each other.
“It may have be used as a carpenter’s area,” Bard said. In the corner stood a table that looked like it was made for woodworking. A vise was attached to one end. Saws and other equipment were on the table. Woodchips and sawdust covered most of the floor about the table.
“Didn’t their mother tell them to clean up after themselves?” George said. Then he noticed that, like the other room in the fortress, a footprint impression was made in the dust.
A second door in the room opened into a small hallway. Just a few steps away was another room.
“A female stayed here,” Johanna said. They were staring at a beautiful walnut bed that had decorations carved throught the wood.
“This is beautiful and skillfully made,” Massacharamar said running her hands over the bed’s canopy. The fabric was blue with many different designs embroidered of the cloth. Green tassles lined the entire border of the canopy. “I wonder if the female we saw in the picture is the one who lived here.”
“I believe she is,” Balon said. He spoke in a strange voice and stared in the corner of the room.
“What is wrong, Balon?” Bard asked. Then he saw he. A beautiful ghoshtlike female was standing next to the red cedar dresser. She looked at them and acknowledged their presence with a shy smile. She looked hopeful when she saw Bard, then, when she realized that he was not the one she was waiting for, her face became sad.
“She died of a broken heart, waiting for Stephan to return,” Johanna said. “I wish there was something we could do for her to help appease her.”
“I think I have an idea!” George said suddenly. “Britt and Bard, come with me real quick.”
“Where do you think you are going?” Britt gruffed.
“Back to Stephan’s chamber. I do not know if it will work, but there is no harm in trying.”
“We will be right back!” he called to the others.
“Her name was Michelle,” Massacharamar said, looking at the headboard. Her name was carved in it.
Michelle did not seem bothered that there were people in her room. She had be alone for so long, she welcome the prospect of company.
She floated to the nightstand. It was covered by a lace doily. On top were several bottles of perfume and silver combs. She smiled at Johanna, who was the closest to het. “Take them,” she seemed to stay.
She floated to the full length mirror in the room and looked in it. Unable to see herself she floated and stopped in front of a carved walnut plaque. It read:

My Michelle,
I love you
You are beautiful,
You are king.
I have collected
Many great treasures
All my Entire life.
However, my best treasure,
The one that I will
Always cherise is you
My beautiful Michelle.
My love I give to you
Will be for eternity.
Love, Stephan.

“That is so beautiful,” said Johanna.
“And so sad,” said Massacharamar.
“I believe I know why George went back to Stephan’s chamber for,” Balon said. “If it works, she will be happy again.”
Soon George, Bard and Britt carrying the tapestry of Stepah and Michelle. They hung it next to the mirror. Michelle looked at the picture and broke into a beamful smile. A ghostlike form of Stephan emerged from the picture. Smiling, he took her hand, and they both disappeared.
“A love story with a happy ending,” Massacharamar said.
“She knew that he would return for her,” Johanna said.

Leaving Michelle’s room they headed back the way they came. “This covers this part of the fortress,” George said, looking at the map.
“What gets me is we have not found any way to get to the lower lever,” Britt said.
“Maybe there is a secret door that we missed somewhere,” Balon said.
“We might even have to go back outdoors. There may be an entrance out there,” Johanna said.
By now they were just passing the trophy room that George and Britt had explored while the others were traipsing around the dance floor. “Wait!” he said.
“What is it wrong?” Britt said, drawing his sword.
“Oh, nothing like monsters to worry about,” the thief said. “Just when we went to the Captain’s chamber, we went down this hallway. There is another hallway above the trophy room.”

“There is nothing in this room,” Bard said looking around. It was just contained bare walls, with no sort of decorations on them, and contained no types of furnishing in it.
“It probably is a room that never was finished,” Balon said.
The group turned to leave. However, Britt noticed a large stone slab in the corner. A heavy chain was attached to an iron ring.
“Bard, help me with this,” the dwarf said.
Bard and the dwarf pulled on the chain. Even though it seemed heavy, the stone slab moved easily.
“That is a staircase,” George exclaimed.
“This must be the entrance into the lower level,” Britt said. “It is going to be dark down there. Get you lanterns ready. Oh you okay, George? You look pale.”
“I am fine, Britt,” the thief answered. For once there was no joking in his voice. George did not look like a joking and cocky adventurer; he look like a scared teeneager. He glasped his knife tightly in his hand.”
“We go down single file.”
The stairway seemed to descend forever. The group moved slowly, with Bard in the lead. With each step down, he tested to make sure he was on solid footing. Soon the light from the room above was gone, a rock outcropping was over their head.
“It should not be much further,” Britt whispered quietly.
Bard paused. He had felt a drop of liquid on the bare skin of his arm. Nothing unusal about this since there was always misture in underground caverns. That was one of the reasons why unpreserved food went bad so quickly. However, where the liquid hit his, his skin began to burn. It was a if there was acid on his skin. He looked up.
A giant amoeba-like liquid creature fell from the outcropping. It wrapped its liquid tenticles around his body and constricted.
His one arm holding his sword was free. He cut through the liquid. However. the amoeba was not killed. Its body was spitl into two living forms. Now Bard’s body was entirely consumed. Bard screamed. The acid was eating though his armor. His bare skin was already burning.
“Bard!” George screamed. He ran up and sank his knife into the liquid. His knife melted away. The last thing Bard saw before he passed out was the amoega stiking George away with one of its tentacles and the thief crashing against the walls of the cavern.
“No!” Balon, yelled as Britt ran up to Bard with his sword. It will only eat metal. Johanna! Get ready to pull him away!”
“Fire!” Balon yelled and fire surged out of his fingers. The omega stopped constricting and started to burn.
“You are going to burn Bard alive!” Johanna cried.
Balon stopped the fire. “See if you can pull him from the jelly.”
Johanna reached into the substance, grabbed Bard’s arm and pulled. Even though, she felt a slight tingling from the jelly, most of the acid was destroyed by Balon’s fire. “I cannot move him!” she yelled.
“Britt, stand by with you hammer! Johanna, let go of Bard! Freezia!” he yelled as ice now shot from his fingers. The omega was frozen into a giant chunk of ice.
“Break Bard free!” Britt, Massacharamar started hitting the ice around Bards head with their hammers. George grabbed his knife and started chipping.
Soon Bard was free from the ice. However, he was unconscious. His exposed skin was burned beyond recognition. George ran to his bag and pulled out his healing potion. “Here you go buddy. You gave me yours so you can have mine.”
“Do not expect me to kiss you,” Bard said weakly.
“Let him rest,” Britt said. “He nearly had a close one. Bard’s damaged skin was almost healed. While the acid could have dissolved the armor, the omeba was removed in enough time to save him.
“George, let me look at that burn on your face,” Johanna said, taking about the mark where the omeba had struck him.

 

George knew what Britt was asking. “I give it time, because he just does not know. Looking at Johanna’s eyes, I can tell she is in love with him. However, he is completely blind or just is not ready. I have been trying to nudge them on when ever I can.” George became silent, thinking about his own true love, Shyla. He left out a heavy sigh.
Britt reached out his hand and patted him on the shoulder. “Do not give hope, son. I believe you will meet with her again one day. Just promise me one thing, George.”
“What is that, Britt,” he asked with renewed hope.
“First you need to stop thieving and live a honest life.”
“Oh I already know that,” George said. “I do not want to jeopardize losing her again. The only thing is thieving is the only thing I am good at. I do not know any other skills.”
“You can learn something from what you already know,” the dwarf said wisely.
“I see what you mean,” George said. “I even have an idea. I also am good with numbers. Hey! I might be a good banker. What was the second thing?”
“When you get married, I want to be your best man.”
“You got it!”
Balon and Massacharamar were amused watching the two dancers.
“The king and queen of the ball,” the magic-user said. When he saw Bard accidently step on Johanna’s toe, he laughed. “He has a lot of learning, but he is catching on quick. Shall we join them?”
“With pleasure,” the elf said. The shortly joined the dancers on the floor.
George looked over at Britt. “Do not even ask.”
“Do not worry; I was not going at ask you to dance. I wanted to know if you wanted to check out the room over across the hallway.
“I do not see any reason why we should interrupt the partiers.”
They got off the thrones and walked to the first door.
“They must have collected something from each of their adventures,” Britt said, after making sure the room was secure.
“Do you remember the tapestry in Stephan’s room?” George asked. “Maybe this is the dragon he had slain.” On the northern wall was a dragonskin. Britt wan his hands over the green scales. “After all these years, and this skin is still in very good condition.”
“What is the sense of having something like this? It has no use, handing on this wall. I am sure it would sell. Somebody, could make shoes and clothes out of this.”
“I agree,” said Britt. “If I have to kill something, I do not keep parts of it to brag about it. True, something will provide me with food and clothing. But to have something just for the sake of it,, it just means that I have more stuff to carry. Even if I did have a home, I do not think I would litter it up with worthless junk.”
“My home,” said George, “will have a roomful of books.” His eyes opened wide. “How did he even managed to do that?”
Looking where George was pointing, Britt saw a stone basilisk.
Maybe this is just a sculpture. They walked over an rans his hands over it. “No, this was alive at on time. Do not worry, George,” he said when he noticed the thief was trying not to look in the creature’s eyes, “it will not harm you or anybody again.”
“Still, how did Stephan manage to do this. He would have turned to stone when he directly looked into the basilisk’s eyes.
“He must have been using a mirror. The creature probably saw his reflection and it turned to stone.”
“We were wondering where you disappeared to,” Balon said, when Britt and George returned to the dance floor. “Did you find anything?”
“No it was some sort of trophy rooms. There were bear rugs, antlers from a moose or an elk. Then he told them about the dragon skin and the petrified basilisk.
“Interesting,” the magic-user said. “I wouldn’t even want to tangel with one of those.”
“There is a hallway to the south,” Bard said.
They followed a short hallway. “I hope this is not another maze room,” said George after they made three right turns.
“No it is a room,” Massacharamar said, when after they made the final right, she walked right into the door. The plaque on the door read:
“Thomas,
My friend,
My Captain,
My comrade in arms.
You are my best fighter,
Trusted Among Friends
Feared by your enemies
May you prevail
In all that you do!”

“This must be the captain’s chamber,” Bard said.
“I would have thought that this would have been a more elegant room,” George said.
“All the chambers have been like that,” Bard said. “It seemed that the people who lived here have been frugal.”
“Sure,” Britt said, “we have found gems and gold coins throughout the fortress. However, it is nothing different of the other missions we have been on. Joban did put more of his money in the furnishings in his rooms.”
A bed sat in one corner of the room. There was nothing special about it. It looked like somebody had hammered some planks together and suffed a mattress with straw. The table was built crudely in the same way. On top of the table was a chipped stoneware dish and mug. “Maybe he was the one who turned the basilisk into stone,” Balon said holding up a mirror.
George unlocked a wooden trunk that was found under the bed. He was disappointed when he did not find anything valuable in it. “Nothing but a coat, cloaks, boots and a broken knife.”
Britt came, with a grin, carrying a barrel. “Let’s take a break and have a drink.”
“What is that?” Bard asked.
“Ale! And it is still fresh!”

“It is getting late,” shouldn’t we get back to the library?” George asked, looking around the room.
“No,” hiccupped Britt, “it would be safer to stay here.”
George shook his head. He and Balon were the only sensible ones. He had filled his flask once. When he had finished his, he had no more. Balon did nothing, he just sat on the bed, smiling and watching the others in silence. Even though they were no where near what you would call intoxicated, their judgement would be off if they encountered any monsters on the way back. Well, at least the barrel of ale, was finished. After a solid sleep, and a good breakfast, they would be one their way once again. According to Stephan and Joban’s map, there were other rooms nearby.
“George!” Britt suddenly exclaimed.
“What?” the thief asked startled, thinking that an orc suddenly materialized in the room.
“What happens next?”
“Oh,” knowing what Britt was talking about. He pulled the journal he had found in the dry pool out of his bag, and began reading as soon as Balon deciphered it with the read spell.

I see you have found my second journal. I see that you are getting deeper and deeper into into my cavern since you found the dry place I told you about. Congratulations. You are brave explorers, or foolish ones. However, if you make it through the Caverns of Kildun Aalda, do not expect any magical rewards from me. You may find trinkets scattered throughout the room. Some as you can see are worth something in gold pieces. Others may protect you. That is all I am going to tell you, since you are intruding upon my and Stephan’s privacy.

I will not bore you with details of all the rooms I explored while I was in the tiger castle of Gallapas. I defeated many monsters throughout the different rooms. Whenever, I rested I read from the magic journal and learned different spells. Within a short amout of time I went from being a medium and advanced to a conjurer. Maybe that was what I intended to do in the first place. However, I still felt that my life was unworthy. I had no choice but to continue.

I found myself in the castle longer than I intended to be. Once I left the castle, I had an eight or nine day journey back to Antares. My food supply would run out efore I got back. I would either have to end my quest now and head back with my belt tightened around my stomache. Or I could continue and worry about finding food later.
After several days of exploring, killing monsters, finding treasures, meditating and building up my magical skills, I found myself in a room that was lit with a glow and I did not need my lantern. When I saw the glassware that lined the shelves, I realized that I was in Gasllapas’s laboratory. On the west wall there were two windows that were shaped like tiger eyes. However, when I went to look at them, I could neither see out of them or break them
Where was this glow coming from? On the west wall were two furnaces. Coals were in them and even though they were giving off light, there was no smoke. They were not even hot; I was able to hold some in my hand without getting burnt.
In the center of the room was a spiral staircase, just like one of many spiral staircases throughout the castle. The glow from the furnace lit it entirely and I could see above my head. A trapdoor was in the ceiling above my head. Somehow, I knew that what I was seeking was up there. I pulled on it and the door came down, revealing another set of stairs.
I entered the room and as soon as I climbed through the hole in the floor, I heard a hissing to my right. A pit viper was coiled up, ready to strike. With the spells I had already used, I had to wait until I was rested. There was one I had not used yet. The snake, suddenly relaxed and went limp. I imagine it snoring as I walked by its still body. “Let it sleep,” I told myself. There was no reason to kill it. It would still be dreaming, what snakes normally dream about in their tiny pea-sized brains, when I left this room.
I looked around the thirty foot circular room. Shelves loaded with books lined most of the walls of this castle. I was standing in Gallapas’s private study. Even if I did not find this rumored treasure by surviving the quest into the castle, the greatest wealth would be in these books. However, after I looked through a couple, I realized they were just general books, the types you can find in different towns such as Antares. There did not seem to be any journals or books on spells.
A cool breeze started blowing through the room. I became aware of a presence in the room. I did not see it but felt that something was watching me as I moved.
I turned slowly around and I saw a cloud of dust. There was a strange light source within the dust. Soon it formed into a translucent being. I was facing Gallapass’s ghost! He slowly raised his hand. How would I fight and defeat a ghost? I raised my hand to use whatever power to distract this being and escape.
“You cannot attack me!” the ghost laughed. It was not an evil laugh. In fact, he chuckled gently. “You are mortal and I am immortal!” With no power to defeat this presence, my unworthy light would be ended. “Joban,” the ghost said, gently, “There is need to be afraid of me.”
A cool breeze that was blowing around me had now turned into a fierce cold wind. It sent chills up and down my spine. The ghost was floating a foot above the floor. I realized that I had no need to fear it. This one had no evil in it; it was a benevolent ghost.

 

Soon the aura disappeared from Balon. “I had to do that just to make sure,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Massacharamar asked.
“I am sure that I am a lawful magic-user,” he explained. “However, I have been tempted to cross to the chaotic side. Then I had commanded that orc and he obeyed, I wanted to make sure I was not falling victim to turn evil. If that aura had been yellow, I would have no choic but to leave.”
“Why leave?” Bard asked.
“I would not want to cause harm to fall on any of you,” the magic user said quietly. Without saying anymore, he walked over to the next pool that had a liquid that had different shades of green. The image showed a lion drinking from it. Then all of a sudden it yawned greatly and laid it head in its paws and went to sleep. “A pool of sleep.”
“Does anybody have a fishing pole?” George asked. In the next pool, trout and bass were swimming around. No image appeared when Balon waved his wand. I guess this is how the orcs survived in here, by eating fish.
Steam was coming from the next pool. They went over to investigate. “Ice,” said Britt “dry ice. Do not touch it. It is so cold that it will burn you.”
“I think we are going to be rich,” George said looking at the bottom of the final pool. Looking down into the clear water, the bottom of the pool was covered with gold coins.
Balon smiled, “I do not need my wand to tell what this one is.” He reached his arm into the pool and as soon as the surface of the water was touched, the image disappeared.
“Oh shoot,” said George, disappointed “Another illusion, just like the one in Joban’s chamber.”
Balon walked over to the west wall of the pool room and looked at it. It was bare except for some rune markings on it.
“I think there may be a secret door,” he called. In less than a minute they were standing in a small but quaint room. It too had the perfectly layered floor in ceramic tile, forming a beautiful checkerboard pattern of reds, browns and black, just like the pool room.
“I wonder who stayed in this one,” Johanna said, looking at the simple bed, chairs, desk and table. They had no worth, since they were commonly made and were worn.
Massacharamar walked over to a painting that was hanging on the wall over the bed. A strong warrior, wearing plate armor, was wielding a sword. “If this actually is Stephan,” she said, “he is very handsome.”
Standing next to the warrior in the picture was a magic-user wearing purple robes. Power was coming out of his fingers. “He too looks very impressive,” Balon said. He looked closely at the painting, “What does that say?” There was writing in the lower left corner.
“Of that is written in the elfin language,” Massacharamar said. “It says:

‘To Luten
Advisor
Counselor
Friend.’”

Underneath, in the common language, Stephan and Joban’s names were signed.
George looked at the gold frame surrounding the painting. “I bet this could sell for at least three-hundred gold pieces. However, I think it would will be too heavy to carry back to Antares.”
“We will leave that up to the elders,” Britt said. “I never heard of this Luten fellow. I wonder what he advised them on.”
Johanna walked over to the desk and picked up the book. Opening the book, she said, “I think I know.” She pointed to a page with a drawing on in. It was of a room that they had already explored. There were notes of what supplies were needed for the construction, how long it would take and how many laborers were needed to complete the room on time. Different pages showed similar drawings of other rooms.
“He must have been the major planner of this fortress,” Bard said, looking through the pages. “However, there is nothing about the lower lever.”
“Maybe that never got done,” Massacharamar said. “What are you doing, George?” she asked as he pulled out his lockpicking kit.
“I just wonder what is so important that the desk drawer had to be locked.”
“Be careful,” Britt warned. “You remember what happened before.”
“This one is safe,” George said. “I already checked I dismantled the trap.”
“Was it the pin one again?” Bard asked.
“No. It more or less was a harmless one, something like my laughing gas prank. However, if it was set off, we probably would have left the room quickly, holding our noses.”
“What was it?” Britt asked
“A gas one. You know what happens after we eat too many beans.”
“George!” Britt barked out laughing. “I am so glad you dismantled that trap! If that gas is anything like your bean episodes, we would not be able to come back into this room for at least four hours!”
George grinned, evilly. “Pay back, Britt if I find any laughing gas in this drawer.”
He finished skillfully using his kit and had the drawer open. “Maybe I might be in luck,” he said holding up a bottle, filled with a clear liquid. He handed the bottle to Balon. “You are the expert in this.”
“This is a potion of levitation.”
“It there anything else?” Bard asked.
“Yes and they may be worth something. He held up a gold necklace and a ring.
“Let me see the ring, for a second,” Balon said. George handed it to him. “This is a ring of protection.”
“Just like the one Joban had,” Johanna commented.
What is that you are holding, George?” Britt asked. “Something you are going to pocket?”
“No. I actually do not know what it is. Though the gems might be worth something.”
“That is a moonstone, Johanna said, looking at the stone with the blue gems embedded in it.
“What are they used for?” Bard asked.
“These are magical gemstones. Do you see how it shimmers with different light when you rotate it one way or another. They are used for different purposes. Sometimes they are used to predict weather. Some woman use them to become fertile. Farmers use them to bring an excellent harvest. However, I think this one was used as a dream stone. By turning it where you get the right color, you can have beautiful visions at night.” She handed George the moonstone. “I think you should have this,” she said. “You were tossing and turning last night, maybe you need a good dream.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. He was not shocked that she was generous with this find. Everybody, was kind and generous. What surprised him was that Johanna was not off the mark. He had that dream about Shyla again. She kept calling out to him during slep. He would think he would find her. But then it would turn into a dead end. “It is dark in here, George! Please help me!” Everytime he thought he was in reach, Shyla was no where to be found.
The dream he had last night was worse. She let out a blood curdling scream. Then she was silent. “Shyla!” he yelled to her. “Where are you!” However, there was nothing but silence.
He woke up sobbing in his blanket, thankful that nobody was awake to witness his weakness.

Chapter Twelve
May We Dance?

“Is this Stephan’s’s chamber?” Bard asked, looking around the circular room.
“If it is,” said Britt, “he rather liked to live a simple life than like royalty.” Still this is a nice room.”
The had taken left the pool room and went back down the corridor where they had encountered the orc. Then they followed the next one to the west. At the end was a room that was different from the others they had so far explored on the upper level. First the walls of the room were curved. Second, the walls were covered in tephan strips of finished pine wood.
George ran his hand over one of the strips, “I like this. While, it is simple and nothing fancy about it, I think it is very beautiful.”
“Yes, I think this is Stephan’s chamber,” Johanna said, studying a tapestry in on of the corners of the room. Measuring approximately seven feet wide and nine feet high, it showed a dragon with green, blue and red scales. A warrior had thrust a sword into its belly.
“Did tephan actually kill a dragon?” George asked with his eyes wide opened. “Then he looked at the dragon again. “Is it me or does that dragon look like it is only three feet long.”
“There are dragons,” Britt said. “However, they are not the large monsters, people tell stories about. Three feet is actually large for a dragon.”
“Why do people fear them?” Bard asked.
“Because of their fire breath. Did you ever wonder why Antares is a town that is made of stone?”
“I never thought of it,” Bard asked.
“Fire does not burn down stone. Antares was built that way to protect its residents.”
Johanna spoke, “Different dragons have different types of breath. Some breath wind, some ice and I even saw a horde of dragons destroy a village with water.
Now it was Britt’s turn to be surprised. “I did not know that,” he said.
“If dragons are so small, why do people fear them?” George asked.
“Because they are like bees, they swarm. Luckily for us, they only travel in groups of two or three.”
“I have never seen a dragon,” said Massacharamar.
“They usually keep to themselves,” Britt answered. It is said that they are a dying breed. It is rumored that fewer that a hundred still exist. They usually attack if they are provoked. They are not necessarily evil.”
The second tapestry showed a battle in a mountain pass. “This must be the barbarian invasion,” balon said. He ran his finers over the colorful threads showing the great detail. “This is very beautiful work. Whoever, did this put a lot of time and effort into this.
“Hello,” said George, doing a wolf-whistle. “Who is this?” He was standing in front of a third tapestry.
“She is beautiful,” said Massacharamar. The picure showed a woman and warrior standing by a lake, holding hands. The wind was tossing her blond hair. She had a look of love and admiration of her face. The warrior was smiling, happily.
“I would not think of Stephan having a wife or even a mistress in his life,” Bard said. “Maybe he was not a self-centered as we thought him to be.”

“Look at this!” exclaimed Bard. They had left Stephan’s personal chamber and walked down a short hallway. They were standing in a large open area that had a floor made of smoot slate. At each corner of this room were four marble columns. However, this was not what had attracted his attention. At one end, sitting on a stone platform, stood two large chairs made of red granite.
“I say,” said George, “they must have actually thought they were rulers! I wonder which one was the queen and which was the king.”
He went to one of the thrones and sat on it. “I am the king!” he called. “Britt, you are my queen!”
“Keep dreaming, son,” Britt growled. However, he walked over to the empty throne and sat on it. They kept an eye on the other.

Johanna and Bard walked around. “Do you think this was used as a ballroom?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” the warrior answered. “I have never been to a ball before, let alone dance.”
“Me neither,” said Johanna. “I mean I never have been to a ball, but I know some dances. Here, I will show you a few simple ones.”
“Shall we dance,” ask Bard.
After a few minutes, he learned a few simple steps. Soon they were dancing around the room, keeping step to unheard music.

Britt and George watched and Bard and Johanna were twirling around the ballroom.
“He is a fast learner,” George said. “Maybe I can teach him how to thieve.”
“With that big and clumsy body of his, he could not scale a wall,” Britt gruffed. He would get a few feet, then he would fall to the ground!” He barked out laughing. They watched in silence for a few minutes, then he leaned towards the thief. “How long do you give them?” he whispered.

 

After checking to make sure the door had no traps, he unlocked it and peered inside. It looked like this was another hallway and not a room. He listened, thinking he heard something.
“What is it, son,” Britt whispered.
“I think there is something in this corridor.” There was another sound, like a grunting.
“Balon and George, you stay in the middle. Britt, you cover the rear.”
They moved slowly and quietly down the hallway. After a few silent minutes, Britt halted the group and he peered around the corner. “I can see them up ahead. There are three orcs and they are fighting each other over something. One of them looks sick.”
“Should we try to talk to them?” asked Bard.
“No they are never good to try to persuade unless if you are involved in the black magic,” he said looking at Balon.
The magic-user shook his head. “ I know the dark arts but I avoid using them. There are always serious consequences when you use them. If I did, I would putting all of us at a great risk.”
“Do they have any weapons?” Johanna asked.
“One has a crossbow and the other has a battleaxe. If we attack, I must warn you they are like berserkers and like fighting in close combat. They will fight to the death and rarely retreat or surrender. They are not like goblins, who are cowardly.”
A smell reached Bard’s nose. “That smells like wine,” he said to himself. “Hey!” he whispered to Britt. “I think they have been drinking.”
“That will give us the advantage,” Britt said. “I do not see any chieftains; the look like they have been separated from their tribe. If things go wrong, we will retreat back the way we came. Massacharamar, get ready with your bow. When we turn the corner, we will rush them.”
When they stepped the corner, the three orcs did not notice them. The were fighting over a piece of fish. The one that look sick, just sat there with his back against the wall, sending grunting remarks to the other two once in a while.
“Massacharamar, take out the one with the crossbow.” The elf shot the arrow and the orc fell down dead, with the shift protruding from his heart.
The sick orc leapt to its feet and the one holding the battleaxe let out a blood thirsty yell and rushed towards the group.
Britt and Bard attacked the stronger orc. When it swung at Britt, Bard protected the dwarf. At the same time, Balon used his magic to fight the sick orc and Johanna used her mace against it. “Fire!” Balon yelled an the orc was consumed in flames. It screamed at it burned but continued to burm. Johanna struck it head and it fell to the ground, dead with a crushed skull.
The larger orc was harder to handle. It swung its battleaxe, trying to cut into the fighter and dwarf. Even though they were able to defend against themselves, they were unable to strike effectively against it.
George, holding on to his knife, could not get into striking distance. He was trying to attack the creature from the rear and, every time he had a chance, the orc swung at his direction with the battleaxe. When he did this he left an opening for the fighter and dwarf to hit him. Still it would give him the satisfaction of killing somebody.
“Hold back!” Balon yelled with a fury in his face that nobody was expecting. Even the orc was stunned for a second before it started in on his rage again. “You have your orders vile loathsome creature!’ The orc snarled and grunted at Balon. “Be one your way. Go back to your leader and await further orders!” The orc snarled and slithered away.” Shaking Balon fell to the ground.
Johanna was the first to reach him. “Are you okay?” she asked with concern.
Balon stood slowly to his feet, his face a pale as a sheet.
“Are you okay?” Johanna asked again.
“Yes,” he said, wiping his hands on his robe as if he was removing dirt and grime from his hands. “Let’s just get out of this hallway.
“There is a door up ahead,” said George. “Let me see if it is safe first.” The looked over at the magic-user, “Balon are you sure you are fine?”
“Just check the door, please,” said Balon.
Britt walked over to George and pretended to help him check for traps.
“What did Balon said to the orc? All I heard was a bunch or grunting and snarling.”
“That is what I heard too. Remember that he did not like to perform the dark arts.”
“It is safe to enter,” George called. He looked into the room and exclaimed, “We have hit the mother load!”
“Did we find treasure?” Britt was the second to follow him. The rest of the group quickly followed suit, looking for monsters.
“No I am just thirsty and my flask is empty,” George said.
The group stared in surprise. They were standing in what was, of what the had explored so far, the largest room in the Caverns of Kilda Aalda. Although the floors in the rest of the cavern were of stone, with the exception of the moss covered floor in the garden room, the floor in the room was perfectly layered in ceramic tile, forming a beautiful checkerboard pattern of reds, browns and black.
“Very beautiful,” said Johanna.
“I agree,” said Massacharamar.
“Excuse me,” said George, as he walked up a pool that was in the floor. “I have to fill my flask..” The room contained fourteen pools that were each fifteen feet wide and five feet deep.
“Wait, George!” Balon said, regaining his composure, approaching the thief with his wand out.
George stopped walking as the magic-user approached him. “We need to see what these pools contain. We don’t want you to get poisoned or grow horns, do we?”
“Thanks. I never even thought about that.”
Balon took out his wand and waved it over to the first pool. A translucent image appeared over the pinkish liguid. It showed an elf driving a drink to a sick elf. The second elf stood up on her feet, completely healed. “Ah a pool of healing,” he said.
Bard walked over with a flask. “I have an extra one; we should fill it up and keep it in case we run out of healing potions.”
“No,” said Balon. “I know these pools. You have to drink from the pool to get healed. Once you fill the flask, the liquid will lose its healing powers. However, it still has a pleasant taste, if you are getting tired of water.”
He walked to the second pool and once again a translucent image appeared over the fizzing liquid. George turned his head and almost vomited as he saw a person wishing to take a swim. As soon as the person dipped into the water his skin began to bubble and melt away. He screamed soundlessly as his body changed into a glob of human flesh. Soon his bones only remained, then they too melted away.
“A pool of acid,” Balon said. “Do not worry, George. Your flask would have melted away as soon as it touched the liquid.”
“Why would Joban and Stephan even have such a pool? Britt asked.
“Maybe just to get rid of unwanted items. Just think, if they had a weapon, like a sword that was rusting. All they would have to do is throw it in this pool. It would be gone.”
The third pool contained murky gray mud-like liquid. “I would not even drink from that,” Bard said.
“It is a good thing,” Balon said as the image showed a goblin becoming sick after drinking it. “A pool of sickness. I winder if that orc we encountered outside this room had drank from this. He did not look like he was healthy. It was holding his stomach while fighting.
“Now that is gross,” Johanna said, looking at the next pool. Even Balon could tell without using his wand that it contained green slime. Even though the pool was not filled with this liquid the bottom and walls were covered with the slime. Britt went close to the pool to get a better look.
“Look out!” Johanna yelled, as a tentacle came up and grabbed the dwarf’s sword. It started pulling him towards the edge of the basin.
Geoger ran up and pulled on Britt’s other arm and broke him from the slime’s grasp. The fell backwards with the dwarf falling on top of the thief.
The dwarf looked at George and said, “As much as I appreciate you helping me, I hope we do not get this close again.” He looked at the slime pool and said, “Of course, I could have let go of the sword.”
“Here you go, George,” Balon said, after the image over the next pool, with revealed wildlife drinking from a pool of clear water. George went over and filled his flask. “This is the best and coldest spring water I have ever drunk! It sure beats the warm water we have been carrying in our flasks. “Come on everybody, this is delicious.” All, but Britt went to drink. He was staring at the pool next to it. This one contained a liquid that had a deep red color.
“Balon,” he said hopefully, “I think I know what is in this one. Just can you check for me?”
The image showed a group of dwarves laughing and carrying on, drinking wine. “This pool is for me!” Britt yelled rushing to it.
“Careful, Britt,” George said, as the drawf dwarf drank his flask and went to refill it a second time. “You do not want to become intoxicated. Still this is good wine,” he said after taking a sip.
“I know,” he said. “I am saving this flask for later. Hey, everybody fill your flasks; we will have a party later on tonight in the library!”
Balon went to the seventh pool. “This one is completely dry.” Even after waving his wand over it, no image appeared.
“This one I guess is going to be a mystery to us.”
Geroge peered over the side and looked down. “There is a book down there! Britt, help lower me down so I can get it!”
Britt looked down, “It looks safe to me.”
Britt lowered George to the bottom of the pool. He opened it and looked inside. “It looks like one of Joban’s missing journals!”
“Good, now we can find out what happens,” Britt said.
They helped pull him back up.
The next pool looked like the fresh water pool. However, its clear liquid was boiling. The image showed servants carrying buckets of water and filling a tub. Several other images showed either a magic-user or a warrior sitting in the tub, taking a bath.
George looked at Bard and held his nose. “I think somebody stinks a little. Just kidding Bard, I am only talking about myself.”
Bard grinned, “I think I might need a bath soon, too.”
“This is beautiful, Balon said, as he approached the next pool of water. It was only half full but the water was shimmering, glistening and sparkeling in a variety of colors.
“Is that an aura pool?” Johanna asked.
“Yes.”
He reached down with a silver cup that was lying near it. Filling the cup, he drank the liquid. As soon as he swallowed it, he felt a strange sensation come over his entire body.
“What is he thinking of?” Britt asked. “What is happening to him?”
After the tingling ended throughout his body, Balon felt a warmth surround him. A blue circle of color surrounded him.
“The color shows what type of magic-user he is. Since it is blue, it means that he is lawful.”
“What if somebody evil like trent swallowed it or somebody like me?” bard asked.
“A yellow color would surround Trent. That shows tat he is chaotic or evil. If somebody who does not have magical abilities drinks it, they would be surrounded by white.”

 

In both the southwest and northwest corners of the stables were two spiral staircases. They were each standing outside a door. There were also two dors on the north wall and three on the south. Which way was I to go?

. George stopped reading.
“What happened next?” Bard said.
“Yes,” said Britt. “Do not leave off here. Just when it gets interesting.. Are you too tired to continue?”
“That is not it, said George. “This is the end of the journal. I am on the last page.”
“You mean to tell me that he never finished the journal?”
“Maybe he did not have time to write any more in the book,” Balon said. “Once he was in the castle, he probably did not have time to do anything except thinking about surviving.”
“What is that paper on the floor?” Massacharamar said.
George reached down and picked up what looked like a letter. “It must have fallen from the journal.
George opened it up and saw that it was written in the common language. It read:
“If you are reading this journal, you used a read spell on it and are obviously reading it in the common language. If you read it in the hobgoblin or ogre language, you mostly likely did not get past the first few sentences and were too embarrassed to read any further.
“Obviously you have intruded in my and Stephan’s abode. If you have survived my traps so far, congratulations. In my first entry, you will notice that I mentioned that I packed journal’s in my unworthy backpack. I have filled them with my adventures in that haunted castle and have them hidden throughout the caverns of Kilda Aalda.
“If you find the other journal, even though I never liked intruders, you are worthy adventurers and deserve it. The only thing I am going to say is to look for the journal in a dry place.”
“Joban, the Powerful.”
“Well,” George said, miffed. “That was a very sneaky thing for Joban to do. What did he think, that people would just take his things without asking.”
“Joban, the Sneaky, that name does fit him,” said Britt.

Chapter Ten
?

“Where do we explore next?” Britt asked the group the next morning after they woke up and ate a small breakfast.
“We should start from where we first entered the fortress,” Balon said. The lounge and the dining room are just to the east of there and the Wizard’s annex is to the north. Still there are other areas to the north and south of these. Then we still have the entire west wing.”
“Let’s get down to the main entrance,” Britt said. “Don’t worry George, we will not have to hear that warning again; we will not go outside.”
“I am so glad that we are now sleeping in the library. I was starting to get a headache from hearing that same warning each time we camped outside.”
Within a few minutes, they gathered their gear and were standing outside the kitchen. George was studying his map. “Let’s go north of the wizard’s chamber,” he decided.

“Here are some stairs,” Johanna said. “They may go down to the lower lever.”
“Good job,” Britt said. “I never thought we would find it.” They climbed down the steps. “The funny thing,” Britt said, “I thought they would be steeper and dangerous that these. I also thought it would be darker. It seems just like we never left the first level.”
By then, they reached the landing and were on the lower level. “Um, Britt,” George began.
“What is it, son?”
“We are still on the upper level.”
“What do you mean? We just climbed down a flight of steps. Maybe the lower level is finished. It was rumored that it was never completed, they were mostly caverns and hardly any rooms.”
“Britt,” George said, trying not to laugh, “over there is Joban’s chamber.”
“George, you are right,” is this another teleporting room or something.
“Let’s try the stairs once again.” As they climbed, George looked at his feet while they were walking.
“I am sorry, George, for not believeing you,” Britt said as they walked.
“Oh, I am not mad. I think I know what is happening.”
They were once again standing on the landing, not far from Joban’s chambers.
“It is the way the steps were constructed,” George said. “I noticed that they do start by slanting downwards when we first started climbing them. We were actually going down.”
“So how do we happen to still be on the upper level,” Bard asked.
“I did not notice it the first time we climbed the stairs,” explained the thief. “However, this time, I noticed that after about five stpes, the steps started to slant upwards. This change is so slight, if you are not paying attention, you will not notice it.”
Britt barked out a laugh, “I would have been climbing steps all day and not getting anywhere if you were not here, George.”
A female’s scream pierced the fortress. Thinking it was a pahtom, they were surprised to see Johanna grabing at thin air as the floor under her feet opened up. She grasped with her hands and grabbed a corner of solid floor.
“Johanna!” Bard and Balon yelled and ran up to her. She was hanging by her fingers, trying to pull herself up. However, she was too weak.
“I can’t hold on!” she cried.
Forty feet below her was a pool of water that was about eight feet deep. If she fell, her equipment would weigh her down and she would drown.
“I got you!” Bard yelled, grabbing her wrists. Even though he was strong, he could not get enogh leverage to pull her up. “Somebody help me!”
Balon ran to his side and lay next to him. Grabbing the cleric’s hand they slowly pulled her up. Britt, Massacharamar and George got behind the magic-user and Bard and pulled them away from the hole in the floor. Soon Johanna was safely in Bard’s arms. He held her until she calmed down enough to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks Bard, I knew you would be my hero.”
“I wonder if this is the way to the bottom level,” Britt said. “George, you are the lightest one. Maybe you can rapeel down on a rope and scope things out.”
“Sure. Now which one of us has the rope?” he asked. “Never mind, I think we have to find another entrance down below,” he said as the doors suddenly sprang back up and closed. George, carefully tapped the area where the trap was with his foot, ready to spring back to solid floor if it sprung open. However, the floor did not open again.

“I bet my life this is where Stephan and his men did their training,” Britt said looking around the room
“This look like the room at the warrior school,” Bard said.
Against two walls were large archery targets. Massacharamar looked at the holes in the walls where arrows had pierced when their shots were off. “I guess they needed all the practice they could get.” She walked a distance away and put her arrow on the bowstring. The arrow took flight and made it mark, dead center in the bullseye.
“Your shot are always on,” George said.
Bard walked over to some bars lying on the floror. Trying to pick one up, he gave up before he hurt himself. “These men must have been very strong,” he said.
“What is this bar for? Johanna asked. There was a bar attached, seven feet off the ground, between the east and west wall. Bard walked up to it, reached his hands upwards and jumped. Grabbing the bar with his hands, he started doing pull-ups and chin-ups. “This is more my style,” he said.
“This is for me,” said George. A rope was hanging from the ceiling that was twenty-five feet over their heads. He grabbed the rope and shimmied up it to the ceiling.
“We always knew that you were part monkey,” Britt called, when the thief reached the top of the rope.
Balon looked at different weapons that were lying around the room. “I guess they were also trained to fight.”
Bard walked over and picked up a shield and battleaxe. The shield was similar to the one he carried. However, it weight twice as much. “This was an excellent way to build their arm muscles quickly,” he said, as he noticed that the other weapons were just as heavy.
To the right of the training area were three rooms.
“This is pretty boring,” George said when they stood in the middle of the first room. Sparsely furnished it only contained a simple bed, table and chair. Even the walls were not decorated.
“Let’s go to the middle room,” Britt said.
Once again they were standing in a room that was a duplicate of the first one they were in.
“Is this another teleporting room?” Bard asked.
“I do not think so,” Balon said. “ I did not have that feeling that I experienced in the teleporting room.”
“Me neither,” said Johanna and Massacharamar said at the same time.
They left the room and were standing outside the door of the middle room. The third room was identical to the other two.
“I am just wondering,” Bard said. “If Stephan and Joban had all these people helping construct this fortress and fighting in the Barbarian Wars, where did they all stay.”
“These look more like guest chambers,” Britt said. “There must be an area on this upper level that we have not explored yet. We should go back to the library and look at the map. Maybe there is a room that we have to return to.”



33. BARRACKS. This large, open room is the dwelling place
for the guards and men-at-arms of the stronghold (most of
whom left on the last adventure with Rogahn and Zelligar).
Scattered throughout the room are about 40 common beds,
and about half that numbr of chairs and stools. There are
several large wooden tables along various walls, and at the
south wall is a large wooden chest of drawers which is empty
except for a few old socks, some common footwear, a few
cloth vestments, and other similar items of no special value.
In the southwest corner of the room the floor slants toward the
wall steeply and an opening (too small to give any access)
leads into the wall. From the faint smell, it is apparent that this
is some kind of crude toilet area.
The walls of the room are rough stone, but there are wall
sconces designed to hold torches, and various pegs upon
the wall. There are some odds and ends hanging from several
of the pegs: an old battered shield, an empty canteen,
a 20' section of light chain, a sheathed sword (old and rusty),
and a bearskin.
Monster:
Treasure & Location:
34. ARMORY. This irregularly-shaped room is designed to
house the arms supply of the stronghold. It is mostly empty
now, however, since many of the arms were taken along on
the last forway of the inhabitants of the hideaway.
When the room is entered, a slight whistling sound can be
heard if the adventurers stand quietly. If the door is closed
(unless spiked open it will close automatically one round after
everyone has entered, and even if so secured, there is a
50% chance that it will close anyway) and the second exit is
likewise closed, a howling wind will immediately result, with
an 80% chance of putting out any torch carried by the adventurers,
or a 50% chance to extinguish each lantern carried.
The wind will cease whenever either or both of the exits
is opened. Upon examination of the ceiling of the room
(which is a full 20' from the floor), two sizable vents will be noticeable
(neither providing usable access) to show that this is
a natural, rather than magical, phenomenon.
The rock walls of this room are mostly smooth, and there are
carved ledges within several of them. Wooden pegs also
abound, and there are some items still left in place on the
wall: a number of battered shields (several broken and in
otherwise poor repair), bits and pieces of body armor (in uniformly
poor condition), several crude bows (-2 "to hit" if
used), a quiver of normal arrows, two swords (one in good
condition), a dozen spears, two hand axes (one with a split
19
handle), a flail, a two-handed sword with broken blade, and
a dagger. None of the items appears remarkable, although
the flail, the dagger, and one of the swords seem to be usable
and of normal value for such an item.
In the extreme southwest corner of the room are two locked
chests, but they are empty. Both are large and bulky, as well
as heavy.
Monster:
Treasure & Location:


Chapter Twelve
George’s Dreams
After checking to make sure the door had no traps, he unlocked it and peered inside. It looked like this was another hallway and not a room. He listened, thinking he heard something.
“What is it, son,” Britt whispered.
“I think there is something in this corridor.” There was another sound, like a grunting.
“Balon and George, you stay in the middle. Britt, you cover the rear.”
They moved slowly and quietly down the hallway. After a few silent minutes, Britt halted the group and he peered around the corner. “I can see them up ahead. There are three orcs and they are fighting each other over something. One of them looks sick.”
“Should we try to talk to them?” asked Bard.
“No they are never good to try to persuade unless if you are involved in the black magic,” he said looking at Balon.
The magic-user shook his head. “ I know the dark arts but I avoid using them. There are always serious consequences when you use them. If I did, I would putting all of us at a great risk.”
“Do they have any weapons?” Johanna asked.
“One has a crossbow and the other has a battleaxe. If we attack, I must warn you they are like berserkers and like fighting in close combat. They will fight to the death and rarely retreat or surrender. They are not like goblins, who are cowardly.”
A smell reached Bard’s nose. “That smells like wine,” he said to himself. “Hey!” he whispered to Britt. “I think they have been drinking.”
“That will give us the advantage,” Britt said. “I do not see any chieftains; the look like they have been separated from their tribe. If things go wrong, we will retreat back the way we came. Massacharamar, get ready with your bow. When we turn the corner, we will rush them.”
When they stepped the corner, the three orcs did not notice them. The were fighting over a piece of fish. The one that look sick, just sat there with his back against the wall, sending grunting remarks to the other two once in a while.
“Massacharamar, take out the one with the crossbow.” The elf shot the arrow and the orc fell down dead, with the shift protruding from his heart.
The sick orc leapt to its feet and the one holding the battleaxe let out a blood thirsty yell and rushed towards the group.
Britt and Bard attacked the stronger orc. When it swung at Britt, Bard protected the dwarf. At the same time, Balon used his magic to fight the sick orc and Johanna used her mace against it. “Fire!” Balon yelled an the orc was consumed in flames. It screamed at it burned but continued to burm. Johanna struck it head and it fell to the ground, dead with a crushed skull.
The larger orc was harder to handle. It swung its battleaxe, trying to cut into the fighter and dwarf. Even though they were able to defend against themselves, they were unable to strike effectively against it.

 

“If it was not so gross,” George said, “I would lie down and take a nap.”
“I wonder why it is like this,” Bard said.
“Nobody tended these plants for a long time,” Balon said. “It basically went out of control.
“Wouldn’t the plants die then?” Britt asked.
“I believe that some plants did die,” the magic-user replied. “However, the stronger plants have been able to thrive off from the weaker ones.”
Not only were the floors covered with the mold, the walls and ceilings were also covered.
“In a way, I think it is very pretty,” Johanna said. The molds formed a beautiful pattenr of different colors including greens, pinks, blues and reds.
“I think we better turn back,” Britt said. “It is not healthy to breath in all this mold.”
“I can’t see!” Balon yelled all of a sudden.
Johanna started towards the magic-user and she started coughing from breathing in some of the fungus that was in the air. She collapsed to the ground.
“Johanna!” Bard yelled.
With his hand over his mouth and nose he ran to her body. She lay there coughing and retching. Reaching into his bad, he pulled out his second, and last bottle, of healing potion. When the liquid was poured down her throat, her coughing fit ended. “We have to get out of here! Something is spraying mold at us! Where is Balon!”
George came up leading the magic-user by the hand. The thief had done the same thing Bard had done, by covering his mouth and nose. “Whatever it is, it is over there,” he said pointing.
Britt stood looking around, with his sword dwarn and Massacharamar stood ready with her bow and arrow.
Ten feet in front of them a large brown grub-like creature rose in front of them.
Bard felt the flesh of his skin crawling.
Massacharamar shot the arrow and it sunk into its body. She shot three more and the creature fell to its side.
“Come on, Bard!” Britt yelled, running toward the creature. “Just do not breathe.!”
Bard and Britt stabbed at the creature with their swords until they were sure it was dead.
“What was that creature?” Bard asked once everybody was out of the room. Johanna was sitting next to Balon, pouring a healing potion in his eyes.
“It is a fleshcrawler,” the dwarf answered. “When you saw it, didn’t it seem like your own flesh was crawling?”
“Yes, it did.”
“Mine too.”
“I have seen more dangerous monsters and this one gives me the creeps most.”
“Thanks, Bard,” Johanna said coming over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Bard blushed and all of a sudden he wanted to hold her and never let go.
Britt did not seem to notice and continued. “Fleshcrawlers are like buzzards. They eat something that is already dead. However, they are tricky. They can paralyze their prey and think that the unfortunate creature is already dead.”
“Is that why it was blowing those spores at us?” Balon asked.
“Most likely it was trying to confuse you so it got close enough to stun you. It has to physically touch you to do that.”
“I hope we do not run it any more of those,” George said, nervously brushing himself. “That thing gave me the creeps.”

Chapter Nine
Joban the Sneaky

“George, are you finding yourself comfortable?” Britt asked.
The thief once again was in his favorite divan. “As much as I love sleeping outdoors, this is the life.”
“Are you okay?” the dwarf asked, as George rubbed his shoulders. “Is you flesh still crawling from that creature?”
“No, dad, my arms are sore from all of that sawing I did earlier. For some reason, we had to free some monkeys from the zoo.”
“The others laughed.”
“Do you want a healing potion?” Johanna asked.
“Oh, no thank you. I would rather save them when I actually would need them. How are you feeling Johanna?” She did have a brush with death earlier that day.
She smile at Bard, who blushed. “Thanks to Bard, I am much better.”
“George, we have covered the entire western part of the upper level” Britt said, “haven’t we?”
George looked at the map. “Yes. I have all the rooms marked on the map. However, the eastern half is larger. I still don’t know how we are to get to the lower level. I cannot find any stairs or passageways that will take us there.
“Do not give up hope,” Britt said. “I am sure there is a way. We just have to find it.”
Johanna sat next to him. “Are you up to reading from Joban’s journal?”
George sat right up. “With all that happened today, I forgot about all about it.” He looked over at Bard, who was standing next to Britt. He smiled evily. “Move over next to me,” he whispered to Johanna. She slid closer to the thief. “Hey Bard!” he called to the fighter. “There is room for one more over here!”
Without saying a word, Bard came over and sat next to Johanna. “I am going to kill, George,” he thought to himself. However, he was greatful, especially when she took and held his hand.

Daga 11, 3045

Keeping a respectful distance from the castle, I circled the walls of the castle, looking for an entrance. An entire wall enclosed it. If I was more than a medium, I could have levitated over the walls. I could have passed through the walls with my potion of gaseous form. This allows me to turn into a gaseous form and pass through solid objects easily. However, I only had one portion and might need it when I was in the castle.
(“Smart thinking,” said Britt.)
Finally on the east wall, I found an entrance. It looked like a gatehouse. On the other side a narrow path wound its way along the body of the castle. If I got past the gatehouse, I could find a way into the castle.
I decided to rest and get some sleep before entering into the castle. I could have entered yesterday, when I arrived. However, the late afternoon’s light was failing and I was advised no to attempt to enter during the night. Still, I had to be on the lookout, since it was rumored that there were wild animals and monsters outside of the castle. I thought to myself that if I ever built a fortress such as the one Gallapus build, I would only contain the monsters within my walls. I do not care if people walked by my humble abode. However, if somebody intruded on my privacy, I would want to teach them something.
(“That is why we did not encounter anything before we entered the Caverns of Kilda Aalda,” Johanna said.
“True,” said Britt. However, on the missions we have been on before, we never met any encounters, until we entered.”
“That was the same way with the Catacombs,” said Bard. “Still I did not stay around until nightfall.”)
I awoke at dawn and removed my invisibility ring. Nothing had disturbed me during the night. After a quick breakfast, I started on my way.
I was standing towards the back of the castle walls. I decided to go through the gatehouse. The gate was opened, raised above my head. It was probably where carriages came and went since the entrance was high and wide enough.
Still, I wondered, why was this opened?
I put on my ring of visibility and stepped through. I head a noise above my head and I looked up. Immediately I jumped backwards. Not a second too soon, for the gate came crashing to the ground. If I had hesitated for even a fraction of a second, I would have been crushed to death. My unworthy life would have been over. Still that is an idea I will keep if I ever build my own fortress.
(“I think that is how he got that idea for the cage trap in the tool room,” Balon said.)
I tried pulling on the gate but it would not budge. It was too heavy. I realized that even when I was invisible, the traps in the castle would still be set off. With the gate closed, I decided to look for anther way in. If I needed to, I would use the gaseous form potion. I only I had a rope to scale these walls.
I walked back the direction I followed last night night. I got to the part where the north and east walls intersected. There was another gatehouse. I could see the back of the castle. It did look like a tiger’s tail. Would I have better luck with this entry. If I had lept forward before, I would have been on the castle grounds.
In this gatehouse, I could see two sets of woden doors that were open. What was beyond that, I could not tell; it was too dark to tell. I looked above me and saw that there were now gates that would crash down on me.
Still I did not want to use the gasous potion just yet. Plus my ring of invisibility’s power was getting weak, since I wore when I was sleeping last night. I would have to wait a while before I wore it again so it could regain its full powers. I decided to walk through this gate house without using any from of magic.
I got past the the entrance to the gatehouse and beyond the first set of wooden doors. I stopped and look around. Then, all of a sudden, a rock fell to the ground ahead of me. I looked up towards the ceiling. Rocks were coming through a hole, raining down on me. I ran forward towards the second set of doors. On sharp rock had hit me on the arm while I was running.
I got past the doors and they slammed shut behind me. I tried to open them, but they were locked. I had no choice now but to go forward.
It was dark, I could not see my hand in front of my face. I filled my lantern with oil and lit it. I checked my arm where the rock had hit me. It was bleeding, but the cut was nothing more than a scratch. In a few minutes, the bleeding had stopped.
I looked around. It looked like I was in a dark tunnel. The lantern threw an errie light off the walls. Then I realized that I was in the castle! I was in the tiger’s tail!
I started walking down the tunnel. Even though it seemed much longer, the light of the lantern was not throwing off enough light to see the entire tunnel and I was taking small cautious steps, the tunnel was only a little more than fifty feet long. Just ahead it opened up into a semi-circular chamber that was about twenty feet wide. One the opposite side of the chamber was another tunnel.
I decided to cross the chamber and continue on down the other tunnel. All of a sudden a giant ferret jumped in front of me and blocked my way. I would either have to fight this creature or go back down the tunnel. That would mean I would have to find another way to get in. No way I was going to do that. I would fight and win and continue on my quest to find some worth in my life. Then I could lose and find an end to my unworthy life.
While I can only carry a dagger, I am not allowed to have weapons that have a blade. However, there is one I can create by magic. I held out my hand and a small ball og glowing yellow light emerged from it. This light formed itself into an arrow. It hovered by my side. I did not have to physically touch this arrow. All I had to do was flick my hand and the arrow followed the motion of my movement. The ferret fell to its side, dead, with the arrow sticking from its body.
I crossed the chamber and saw that the tunnel was actually a hallway. I followed it until I reached the do at the end. As I neared it, a familiar smell of maneur and straw reached my nostrils. I walked through the doors and I was standling in the stables. Gallapus must of owned many horse, since the entire east and west walls were the cubicles that held the horses.

 

“Ooh,” said George. “That is very pretty.” Once they had left the library the walked down the corridor to the west. There was a door at the end of the hall. After checking for traps they opened another door and found themselves in a shorter hallway.
“There is a room to the right,” Johanna had said. The corridor branched to the left.
When they opened the door, it was dark at first. Then a light coming from the furthest corner of the room caught their eye. After making sure there were no monsters, the room was bare of any furniture or other things they could lurk behind, they entered the room to investigate further.
“Did you feel something?” Bard asked Johanna.
“Like what?” she asked.
“It was a weird feeling,” he answered. “It felt like I had blacked out.”
The source of the light was a set of crystals embedded in the wall. There was no distinct pattern to it, just a display of a variety of reflecting colors.
“Though it is pretty,” Balon said, “there is nothing magical to it.”
“There is no value, either,” said Britt. “This is common ordinary crystal, something I can mine in any cave. Come on, George. You have the map, lead the way.”
They left the room and followed the hallway that led away from it.
After the had travel a hundred yards, George stopped and looked at his map. Something did not look right. Maybe Joban and Stephan’s map of the stronghold was not accurate. He checked his compass.
“Sorry guys, I must have went the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?” Britt asked.
“We should be going south and we are going north.”
“Do not play games with us!” Britt thundered. “You know that the only direction the hallway went after we left that room was south. We started walking down the hallway as soon as we got out of the room!”
“Come see the compass for yourself,” said George, miffed. It was one thing to get yelled at when he joked around. It was another when he was totally serious.
Britt brushed passed the others and grabbed the compass out of George’s hand. “We are going north. Maybe we just turned a corner and did not notice.” He put his hand on George’s shoulder. “I am sorry, George. Let’s head back the way we came.” They turned around and headed back down the hallway.
“There is a room to the right,” Bard said.
“That is funny that we did not see this before.”
“I believe we have been here before,” George said, looking at the crystal decoration on the wall.
Once again Bard felt that strange sensation again. This time he did not say anything.
“Maybe we needed to go north in the first place,” Britt said. “George, turn left when we leave the room.”
“There is a room to the left” Massacharamar said.
“I cannot believe it,” Britt said hitting his head with the hand. They were once again standing in the room with the crystal decoration on the wall. “It is not funny!” he said as Balon started laughing.
“I think I know what is going on. Come on everybody. Step outside of the room.”
Once they were outside, he said, “Britt go back in the room, wait a minute and come back out.
The group waited and in a minute they heard Britt yell in the northern part of the corridor. “What is this some type of joke! Where are you guys hiding.”
“Follow me,” said Balon. “They walked north up the corridor and soon saw Britt standing outside a room looking miffed.
“Sorry if you thought we were pulling a joke,” the magic user said. “There are two rooms that are identical. I thought it was me, but I felt something as we teleported from one room to the other.”
“I had felt something too,” said Bard. “What is the purpose of these rooms.”
“They most likely were used to confuse the unwanted intruders. They would get confused by entering one room and teleporting to the other and get lost. George see the door of the northern room has a B on it. This is the room on the map.”
“I think that I saw an A on the other door.”
“At least we know where we are now.”
They went back to the first teleporting room. George scratched his head. “Now which way are we heading, north or south?”
Britt playfully threw a punch at the thief.

“Well, that was a bit boring,” George said as they stood once again in front of the first teleporting room.
“I agree,” Britt said.
There was nothing interesting down the southern corridor. They first came to a room that was full of soot and black dust.
“This was probably used for the room across the hall,” Bard said. “I think this was used as a blacksmith shop.” It reminded him of Joe Smith’s shop in Antares. It contained an anvil, bellows, black smith tools and irons. “The only thing there are no chimneys.How were the fumes vented from this room?”
Johanna pointed to the ceiling. There were holes in the walls and a wind whistled through them. “That is how the fumes were vented,” she said.
The one interesting room was one that had a corridor in it.
“Maybe it is a maze,” Geroge said as they followed its winding path, “or maybe a dead end,” when they got to the center of the room.
“Or maybe it is a trap!” Britt exclaimed.
The walls of the center of the room were covered in spider webs. The skeletal remains still hung there. “I guess these are not your ordinary daddy long legs spiders,” Bard said, as he looked at the remains of a deer.
“It is best to get out of here,” Britt said. “Giant spiders usually hunt in packs.”
“Before we go,” said George, “you might want this.” He handed Britt a bag containing some silver pieces.
“I guess this is the reason why we have not run into any orcs or goblins yet,” Bard said, picking up a goblin ax and an orc knife.
Massacharamar picked up a longsword and looked at it. “This looks like it is elven made,” she said quietly. She could not help but wonder if an elf had fallen victim to a spider attack.

“Which way do we go now?” Massacharamar asked, standing in front of the first teleporting room.
George looked at the map. “There are a couple of rooms to the north of the second teleporting room. Then it seems that is the most northern part of the fortress.”
“We still have not even checked the west side yet,” Bard said.
“At least we have plenty of food, thanks to Massacharamar.”
The elf had cooked a delicious dinner of snake. Knowing which parts were edible, she removed all of the poison sacs.
However, George being the jokester that he was, pretended to keel over after the first bite. He did not fool anybody. He even went back for seconds.
They found themselves in some sort of tool room. Britt went to look at a box of mining picks. He picked up one and but it back down. “Totally useless,” he grunted as the one he put down crumbled into runst. “Still there may be something that we can use.”
“These are in perfect shape,” Massacharamar said inspecting a box of arrows. She picked up several and put them in her quiver. “Mine are almost gone.”
Bard saw a length of rope lying near the far wall of the room. Even thought it was about fifty feet long, he recognized the weave. It was light enough to carry, maybe about ten or fifteen pounds put strong enough to hold two hundred pounds. This would come in handy if they had to scale a wall. He walked toward it. Britt spied more mining tools lying towards the rope and followed Bard.
George, who was examing some hacksaws glacnced up. To his right and to the front he saw, hiden by cob webs a lever. He glaced at the ceiling and saw the bottom of what looked like a cage.
“Look out!” he yelled. “It is a…”
Too late, a grate with vertical bars dropped down to the floor.
“Trap!” George finished.
Bard and Britt were trapped on the other side of the grate. Balon had also recognized the trap and pulled Johanna to safety before the grate fell on top of her.
“George, thanks for the warning,” Britt growled.
George looked pale. “This trap has no wires that I can see. This one is set underground. When you stepped on one of those rocks, it set off a spring. The spring tripped a wire and the lever released the trap.” He shuddered thinking of what could have happened to Johanna.
“That is okay, son,” the dwarf answered.
“No, it is not,” the thief answered. “I should have seen the lever.”
Johanna went over to the lever and looked at it. “There is no way you could have seen this, George. It is totally covered with webs. It is also possible that the wire just got rusty and broke.”
Still George looked pale. “But you almost got killed. It would have been my fault.”
Johanna smiled, secretly. “I actually was practicing a spell that was putting a force field around me. I had succeded in having one over my head, thought not the rest of my bpdy. That is why Balon was able to pull me out of the way.
“You mean to say…”
“If Balon had not pulled me out of the way, the grate would have stopped five feet over my head.”
“I thought I was saving your life,” Balon said.
“You did and I am very greatful for it. Now we must see what we can do for these two. Now remember, George, do not feed the monkeys.”
“Hey,” he said, back in a joking mood. “That was what I was going to say.”
Bard had his hands on the the bars, examining them. “We might be able to pull on these and break them.” However, when he pulled on them, even though they moved slightly, they did not give.
“Tie the rope around one,” Britt said. “It might give them more leverage.”
Geroge ran back to the hacksaws he was looking at. Two were still in very good condition.
With each person taking turns sawing and using the rope to pull on the bars, they were able to create an openin big enough for Bard and Britt to crawl through.

“I think this takes care of the western part of Joban’s and Stephan’s humble abode,” Britt said. After sawing their way out of the cage trap, they needed to rest. Eating his iron preserved rations, George was looking over Stephan and Joban’s map. “I think we missed two rooms,” he said.
“What do you mean,” Britt asked.
George pointed to the map. “There is a hallway from the kitchen. I do not think we went down that one.”
“Isn’t that the hallway that led to that maze room.”
“No, actually this is the hallway, said pointing. “Remember how we followed this one from the library and came to the one with the teleporting rooms,” George pointed to another hallway. “This is the hallway that led us to the maze room and we are here,” he said, pointing again at the map.
“George,” Britt said, clapping him on his back, “I do not know what I would do without you. I think I could get hopelessly lost,” he added in a hearty laugh.

“This would be great if the elders ever set this place up as a tourist attraction,” Balon said as they stood in a large room filled with benches. George had walked over to what looked like a stage and climbed upon it.
“Does anybody want to hear a joke?” he yelled.
“Boo! Get off the stage!” Britt said, pretending to throw fruit at him.
George got off the stage and walked to the group. “Were Stephan and Joban entertainers.”
“It was rumored that Joban did demonstrate his magical abilities for an audience,” Balon said.
“Do you mean to say that he entertained here?” Massacharamar asked. “It is had to imagine with them not liking people.”
“According to lengend, he did most of his demonstrations in taverns,” Balon said. “Maybe he just entertained here for his laborers. Then again, maybe they entertained for him and Stephan.”
“The door to the other room is over here,” said Johanna.
“It seems that this is the only entrance,” George said looking at the map. “I ws thinking that there was a secret door somewhere.”

“Where are we?” George asked. “Is this some sort of tropical rainforest.”
“No this is where they, well most likely where Joban, kept his garden.”
Expecting to find the ground under their feet stone, like the rest of the upper level, Massacharamar was surprised to find out that the surface was soft, like grass. She reached down and tounched the carpet-like growth.
“This is mold,” she said.
“I think it covers the entire floor of this room,” Johanna said. Sure enough everywhere they stepped, the mold made a soft carpeting.

 

They were standing inside a room, filled with barrels.
“There must be over sixty,” Johanna said.
Balon walked over to one and looked inside. “This must be the storeroom. These contain flour.”
“This one has wheat,” George said. He tasted some and made a face. “It is still edible, but a bit stale.”
“Well, I hope we will not have to resort to eating any of this,” Britt said.
Bard saw where some flour had fallen on the floor. “I think somebody has recently been in here.” He pointed to a boot prints leading to the door.
Britt bent down and looked at it. “George, is that your print? They looks like the boots that you wear.”
“No, the prints are smaller that my foot.”
“I wonder if some monsters wear boots,” Massacharamar suggested.
With weapons drawn they searched the room. However, there was nothing in the storeroom, not even the rats, except for barrels containing wheat, flour, pickles, meat, fruit and vegetables.
“The supply room is over there,” George said looking at the map.
“These are still in good shape,” Britt said looking through a box containing iron spikes and metal nails.”
“Joban and Stephan probably had not completed building this stronghold,” Bard said. Stone blocks lay in a corner. Wooden doors were stacked against one wall in the room. He walked over to a 200 foot long coil of rope. “This is too heavy to carry.
Johanna said, “The laborers probably suspended from this when they worked on the outside.”
The elf returned with several boards of wood. “These will help get the holes boarded up and keep the rats out.”

After covering the rat holes in the kitchen, they walked up the corridor past the store and supply rooms. Two beautifully oak doors were ahead of them.
“I should have known this would be the library,” Balon said.
George looked down at thee dust covered floor. There were those mysterious footprints again. It was as if they belonged to a female, the prints were delicately small. Maybe one person did survive the berserker attack. But who was it and what happened to him or her?
Britt ran his fingers through the dust. “This is excellent craftsmanship!” he exclaimed. Though the floor was covered in years of dust, it was like it was newly done. The floor was made of polished marble. Large blocks of the stone were uniformly laid out. The stones were all even and the lines of each block lined up perfectly.
“It must have taken years to do this,” Massacharamar said, as she looked at red gems in the center of the floor. “Look at that,” she said, pointing. “The gems are their initials!” Everybody gathered about and noticed that the gems actually read S & J.
“I notice that they both liked oak,” Bard looked at the three large tables in the east west and north wings of the library.
“Believe it or nor,” George said, when I am not thieving, my next best acivity is reading. He looked at the plush divans in the corners of the room. “I could make myself at home here,” he said running his fingers through the fleece upholstery. “It is a shame that they are as dirty as they are.”
“We can take care of that,” Johanna said. Within a few minutes, all the dust, dirt and grime were gone. The room looked like it was built just the day before.
“Now this is living,” the thief said as he jumped onto the divan and lay on his back. “Give me a good book and I will be happy.”
“Wait a mnute,” Balon said. “Where is all this light coming from?” The rooms that they had previously explored were outside rooms. Light came in either through windows or cracks in the walls. This was an inner room; there was no way the sun ray’s had penetrated this far. The light was much more than what their lanterns were giving out.
George looked at the sconce that was mounted over his head. Instead of holding a torch, it held a small cage. Similar sconces hung around all the walls of the library. Each cage gave off a red glow.
“Fire beetles,” Britt said.
“How have they survived after all these years?” Johanna said.
“Nobody knows how they live and eat. Yet they live many years,” the dwarf continued.
“Should we free them?” Massacharamar asked.
“I do not think these cages can be forced open,” Britt said. “However, it is better to leave them be. Once they are captive, they are not able to survive if they are released from their cages.”
George went over to look at some books on one of the shelfs. He picked up one and the pages fell away into dust. “It probably was not interesting anyway.”
“George,” Britt spoke suddenly and quietly, “whatever you do, do not move.”
George started to laugh. “You cannot fool me…” A hissing noise stopped his words. He turned slightly towards the noise. A giant snake was gliding towards him, eyeing his prey. Even if he wanted to run, he was not able to; he was frozen by fright, hypnotized by the beady eyes. The snake was so close that its tounge flicked out and touched George’s face.
“He is tasting me!” he whispered despartely. “He thinks I am his dinner! Please help me!”
“Keep calm, George,” Britt whispered drawing his sword. “We will save you. Both the dwarf and Bard slowly approached the snake on both sides. Massacharamar got her bow and arrow ready.
“One three,” Britt said. “One, two…”
“Three!” yelled George.
The snake, seeing the attackers, forgot about its dinner and coiled as if to attack. However, it did not go for either of them. Seeing the creature with the stick that had a point on the end, decided to go for that instead. It leapt and passed between the two and attacked the elf.
Massacharamar had no time to react. Her bow was knocked out of her hands as the snake landed on her and coiled around her body.
“Stun!” both Balon and Johanna yelled as power shot out of their hands. The snake stopped restricting and began to uncoil from the elf’s body. Bard and Britt pulled the snake off her body and slew it.
Massacharamar breathed a sigh of relief. “It goes to show that you never know what to expect. I did not realize that would happen and let my guard down.”
“That is why we always have to be on our highest alert while in these caverns,” Britt said. “We have had too many close calls.”
After making sure there were no more snakes in the library, they felt the room was secure.
“We can stay in here, for the night. Now that the kitchen is clean, we can cook in there.”
“I wonder if snake tastes good,” George said.
“What do you have there, George?” Britt asked. They were back in the library after eating dinner and getting settled for the night. George was lying in his favorite divan and had pulled out the journal he had taken from Joban’s chambers.
“It is that one journal. The one I cannot make any heads or tales of.” He kept turning the book one way and the other.”
“You took that without permission. What if the elders found out?”
“I would have returned it. I just forgot about it until now. I thought it might give some clue about these two men of legend.”
“Let me look at that,” Balon said, sitting down next to George. “I think if I cast a read language spell, we may be able to decipher this.”
“How does that work,” Bard asked. “It will decipher these runes. The only problem is if Joban spoke in different tongues, which he most likely did, it may take a while to find the interpretation in the common language. Well it will not hurt to try.” He waved his wand over the book.
“I recognize this one,” the magic user said as the runes started to form. “This is the ogre language.”
“You know ogre?” Massacharamar asked.
“Just a few words and ones I do not want to repeat; they are that vulgar. I do not recognize this one, however,” he continues as the runes once again formed on the pages of the book.
“Let me see,” said Britt. “Oh yes this is hobgoblin. I can speak it fluently but I only know a few written words and ones that I do not want to repeat etiher.”
“Here we go,” Balon finally said as the runes were deciphered in the common language. He handed the book back to George. “It is all yours.”
George started reading. “It looks like a jounal of one of his adventures from his younger days.”
“Even though they had been getting ready to sleep, they were interested. “Please read it, son,” Britt said.

Dage 1, 3045

I Joban of unworthy parents, unworthy heritage, unworthy ancestry am going on a mission to, hopefully end my unworthy life. While I can end my life by drinking from that poison I made, I do not want to die the coward’s way. I, an unworthy medium, want to die fighting for my life, my unworthy life.

(“Wow,” said George. “I seems that Joban was a very bitter person. “Maybe that was his goal in the barbarian lands and he dragged Stephan along with him.
“Maybe,” said Britt. “From that date, he must have been a young man, maybe even younger that you, George.)

Before I start out, I pack all my unworthy possessions. There are not too many of them. These include (all unworthy, of course):
1 Knife
1 Flask for water
Lantern
Oil
My Personal Journal
Magic Journal
Ring of invisibility (why I would even have one of these, I do not even know)
Ring of Protection
My Robes
Potion of Gaseous Form
Tinderbox
Iron Rations for Three Weeks
Several Small Sacks

All of these unworthy items go into my unworthy backpack.
Now I go to my mission and hopefully my death.

I had been traveling the world trying to make something of my unworthy life. After months of acquiring nothing, I finally returned to my home town of Antares.
(“I did not know that,” Bard said.
“This is probably his personal journal that I am holding,” George said)
I stopped at the only tavern in town, The Stoneville Inn, hoping to drink my sorrows away. How it mad me angry or sad (I am not really which one it was) when I passed through the tables and heard people laughing and breaking out in gleeful songs. With the mood I was in, I did not feel like laughing and singing. I just wanted to forget about my unworthy life.
I made my way to a table away from the others. It was near the back exit in case I wanted to leave quickly. There was a table unoccupied next to me. I thought I was lucky and that I would be alone. However, after I took the first sip of my mead, several patrons came in and sat next to me. One man turns to me.
“I see you are a magic-user,” he says noticing my robes.
Great now he wants to talk to me. I just want to drink my sorrows away, crawl in a hole somewhere and hopefully not wake up.
I nod my head without saying a word. Maybe this man will leave me alone. Of course I know that is not the case.
“Have you heard of the wizard, Gallapus?”
Who has not heard of Gallapus, the greatest wizard of all time. Maybe if I was a famous as Gallapus, I would not feel that I was so unworthy.
“Yes,” I decide to answer him. “No wizard was able to defeat him. Their power,however great it was, could not harm him. Only when Gallapus used magic against his own body, it worked.” Now I am starting to warm up. “Is that how he met his demise? Did he use his powers to kill himself?” Maybe I should rethink about using my powers to end my unworthy life.
“No he only used powers to let people think he was defeated. From what I heard he lived a long life and died of old age.”
That will be my curse in my unworthy life, live for a long time.
“People are afraid to go to his castle. It is rumored that his ghost still wanders the hallways. Many magic-users, including warlocks and wizards are afraid to go their. They believe they will lose all their powers.”
I am interested. Maybe if I go to this castle and if the stories are true, I can either find some meaning in my unworthy life or find a way to end it. “Where is this castle?”
“Sir, it would be too dangerous for you!”
This makes me happy to hear.
“I am just curious,” I answer.
The man looks relieved. “The castle is ajourney of eight or nine days from here. You will find it easily. It is built on the plains and it is in the shape of a lion.”
(“I remember that castle,” Britt said. George do you remember that dead-end mission?”
(“Yes,” George said. “The castle was abandoned and there was no ghost. We did not even find one gold coin.”
(“The castle was starting to fall into ruins,” Massacharamar said. “The elders did not think it was worth any effort to try to restore it.”
That is interesting. It looks like this wizard put great detail into his home. Maaybe someday, if I find so worth in my life, I will build a fortress that people will talk about.
(“I think he did find some worth in his life,” George said.)
“What can you tell me about this castle?”
“It is a very dangerous place. He haunts his castle day and night, waiting for somebody worthy.”
That leaves me out.
“There are monsters with him guarding his home.”
“Has anybody ever entered it before?”
“Yes. There are rumors of great magical rewards. I do not know what they are because, most how enter the castle, do not return.”
Ah a way to end my unworthy life.
“The ones who do return turn into wild animals.”
At least if I was an animal, somebody can hunt me for food.
“I even remember one time an entire army tried to enter the castle. All but one was destroyed. That is when an important secret came known.”
“Which secret is that?”
“Only one person at a time can pass through the magical boundaries of the castle. If you are planning to explore the castle, do not bring anybody else. That is your only chance. With you being a magic-user, you may survive the castle and be greatly rewarded.”
I really do not want to survive. I want my unworthy life to end.
The man pulls a book out of his bag and hands it to me. “I know you are going to attempt to explore this castle, so you should have these. It is a magic journal and there are maps of the castle.”
“What if I do not survive in there?”
“I will know your fate if this book appears back in my bag and you do not return. Others who entered the castle and did not return were able to map areas they explored. If you survive in the castle, you will be a hero.”
If I were a hero, maybe I would not feel that my life is so unworthy.
“How to I find this castle?”
“Do you know where the Moosegrove River branches to the east?”
“Yes.”
“Follow it until it branches to the north. That is about six days traveling. Then you walk in a southerly direction for two days. By then you should be able to see the castle on the plains. It looks like a tiger getting ready to strike.”
“Just be careful,” said the lady sitting next to the man. “When you get near the castle, there may be creatures lurking on the outside.”

Dage 10, 3045

The next day, I left on my mission with all my possessions. The man, whose name I never found out, walk with me to the edge of Antares and wished me luck.
“Before I frget, never enter in the castle during the night.”
“Thank you,” I said and went on my way following the river. While I could have rented a horse from the stables, I preferred to walk. I never liked or trusted horses.
Six days passed and it was a lonely journey. I met no people along the way and very few animals. It did not matter much to me; I did not feel like talking to anybody. I did not need people trying to convince me to turn back. On the six day, just as the man had said, the river branched to the north. I started walking south.
After two days of crossing the grasslands, I could see a faint outline of the castle on the southern horizon. Even though I could not see the outline of the tiger, I knew it was Gallapus’s castle. It looked like it would take me at least one more day to reach it. I decided to sleep the night and start out early the next morning.
At dawn, I started once more towards the castle. Even though the past eight days had went quickly, this last day seemed to drag. Even after walking ten minutes, it seemed that two hours had passed. The castle just did not seem to get any closer.
I finally reached the castle today in the late afternoon on the ninth day. I am going to rest here for the night and try to enter the castle in the morning. Whatever it takes, I have three days to complete my mission, unless it is my fate not to survive. Then I have to make it back to Antares before my food supply runs out.
George yawned.
“Son,” said Britt, “that is a very interesting story. However, put the book away, you need to sleep.”
“But I want to find out what happens,” the thief said.
“We will, just get some sleep.”
George did not answer. His head was leaning against Balon, already asleep.
Johanna gently took the book from George’s hands and put it back into his bag. Gently covering him with his blanket, she said, “Sleep soundly.”

 

“How can humans be so cruel?” Britt said picking up the jar. “How is it possible that it is still alive?”
“The fluid is a preservative,” Balon said. “It leaves something in suspended animation until it is released. Even if over a hundred years had passed, the cat would be the same age as when it was put in the jar.”
“Why would Joban do this?”
“Maybe he needed the cat alive to study. I have known wizards who would remove parts from an animal and then would keep them alive in the fluid. The poor creatures would writhe in agony, welcoming for death to come. However, it never would until the wizard was completed with his studies.”
“I even respect Joban less than I did before,” Bard said. “One can only go so far.”
Balon carefully examined the jar. “This cat looks unharmed; in fact it looks satisfied and comfortable. Most likely this was a pet. He probably put it in this fluid to protect it while he was gone.”
“Joban is not coming back,” said George. “Can we just free the cat?”
“Help me with the lid,” Britt said. “It is on tight.”
George and Britt unstopped the cork lid. The liquid instantly evaporated. As soon as Britt set the jar on the ground, the cat opened its eyes and looked around. Stretching its body, it jumped out of the jar. It looked at the group of people and meowed at them. Then it turned and ran out of the door.
By the time the reached the hallway, the cat had vanished from view.
They went out into the hallway to continue on. However, Balon was not with him.
“Where did he get to?” Britt asked. They entered into the Wizard’s Chamber. Still there was no sight of Balon.
“There is a door over there?” Johanna said.
“I do not remember seeing that before,” George said.
“It probably was another secret door.” They walked through the door and found Balon looking around in amazement.
“This is Joban’s laboratory,” the magic user exclaimed. “Who would have imagined it was this big. “They were standing in a room that was fifty feet long and thirty feet wide.
“I do not think the stories about the barbarian invasion were false,” Bard said. Hanginf from the ceiling was a skeleton of a barbarian.
This room was like the workroom, with three wooden tables and a heavy stone table. A smell of incense still hung in the air.
“George! Watch what you are doing!” Britt yelled as he thief picked up a glass bottle filled with a smoky substance from the floor and trying to remove the cork.
The warning came too late as the cork popped out and there was a swooshing noise as the substance poured out of the bottle.
Bard all of a sudden had the urge to laugh, even though he found nothing funny about a thief getting into a trouble.
Starting to giggle, he thought the entire situation was funny. Soon he was bellowing with laughter, clutching his sides. He could not stop.
“George! I am going to kill you,” Britt yelled as he rolled on the floor laughing his head off. Soon the others were joining in.
“I do not even know what we are laughing at,” Johanna said.
“It is laughing gas!” Massacharamar yelled.
Drawing deep breaths, Balon managed, between bouts of laughter, yelled, “Dispel!”
Within a minute the laughter died down.
George grinned, sheeplishly and put the bottle down.
“Do not play innocent with me, George!” Britt yelled, wiping his tears. “How many times have you played that stunt? Is it three times now?”
“No,” George replied. “Just four.”
“When are you going to learn? There may be monsters lurking around! What if they heard us?”
Bard walked over to George. “Did you know that was laughing gas?”
“Yes. I am a bit of a prankster. Yet, Britt is right; if monsters had attacked us, I do not think we would have been able to fight them. I guess this will be the last time with this prank. I will have to think of something different, something safer.”
“No you are thinking, son.” Britt said. “Well, there is no harm done. Just if you find another bottle, bring it back to Antares for a gift for those foolish warriers,” he said, thinking of the ones who taunted him.
“Now that is an idea,” George said.
Now that they were composed, they looked around the room. Balon walked to a shelf that contained empty vials and bottles, which some of them were broken. “This one still has something in it.” He peered at the thick silvery liquid. It appeared to be glowing. “This is a potion of Sanctuary.”
“How does it work?” Britt asked.
“You drink it and it protects you against attacks. For example, if you are struck by a sword, you will be unharmed.”
“You should keep that, Balon,” George said. “You are the least protect person here. You, most likely will need that the most.”
“Well, I was going to give it to you, George. Maybe it will make you immune to playing practical jokes.”
A glitter by the stone table caught Bard’s eye. He bent down and picked up a silver figurine. It was in the form of barbarian wearing armor.
Britt looked at it. “I wonder if Joban made this. It is finely crafted and has to be worth two and fifty gold pieces.
Johanna looked at a pile of logs stacked in the corner of the room. “This might be worth something,” she said returning with a gold ring.
Britt looked at it and noticed gold paint was chipping of, revealing nothing more than ordinary metal. “This is worthless. However,” he added, handing the ring to Balon, “it has magical properties.”
“No it just an ordinary ring, cheaply made,” he said handing the ring back to the dwarf.
Massacharamar walked over to the wall and looked at a rack. “I believe that Joban tortured people who intruded on his privacy.” They walked over and saw the rack had chains and there were still signs of blood on the front of the rack.
George noticed a leather skin stretched against the other wall. He walked over and saw there was writing on it. However, he could not understand the symbols. “Balon, I need your help.”
Balon waved his wand at the skin. The writing became readable to everyone:

“What mysteries lie within the caverns of Kilda Alda?
Only the bravest or foolish will know!”

“We are either brave or foolish,” Bard said.
“Which one, we do not know,” Britt agreed.


Chapter Seven
Joban’s Journal

They were standing inside a room, filled with barrels.
“There must be over sixty,” Johanna said.
Balon walked over to one and looked inside. “This must be the storeroom. These contain flour.”
“This one has wheat,” George said. He tasted some and made a face. “It is still edible, but a bit stale.”
“Well, I hope we will not have to resort to eating any of this,” Britt said.
Bard saw where some flour had fallen on the floor. “I think somebody has recently been in here.” He pointed to a boot prints leading to the door.
Britt bent down and looked at it. “George, is that your print? They looks like the boots that you wear.”
“No, the prints are smaller that my foot.”
“I wonder if some monsters wear boots,” Massacharamar suggested.
With weapons drawn they searched the room. However, there was nothing in the storeroom, not even the rats, except for barrels containing wheat, flour, pickles, meat, fruit and vegetables.
“The supply room is over there,” George said looking at the map.
“These are still in good shape,” Britt said looking through a box containing iron spikes and metal nails.”
“Joban and Stephan probably had not completed building this stronghold,” Bard said. Stone blocks lay in a corner. Wooden doors were stacked against one wall in the room. He walked over to a 200 foot long coil of rope. “This is too heavy to carry.
Johanna said, “The laborers probably suspended from this when they worked on the outside.”
The elf returned with several boards of wood. “These will help get the holes boarded up and keep the rats out.”

After covering the rat holes in the kitchen, they walked up the corridor past the store and supply rooms. Two beautifully oak doors were ahead of them.
“I should have known this would be the library,” Balon said.
George looked down at thee dust covered floor. There were those mysterious footprints again. It was as if they belonged to a female, the prints were delicately small. Maybe one person did survive the berserker attack. But who was it and what happened to him or her?
Britt ran his fingers through the dust. “This is excellent craftsmanship!” he exclaimed. Though the floor was covered in years of dust, it was like it was newly done. The floor was made of polished marble. Large blocks of the stone were uniformly laid out. The stones were all even and the lines of each block lined up perfectly.
“It must have taken years to do this,” Massacharamar said, as she looked at red gems in the center of the floor. “Look at that,” she said, pointing. “The gems are their initials!” Everybody gathered about and noticed that the gems actually read S & J.
“I notice that they both liked oak,” Bard looked at the three large tables in the east west and north wings of the library.
“Believe it or nor,” George said, when I am not thieving, my next best acivity is reading. He looked at the plush divans in the corners of the room. “I could make myself at home here,” he said running his fingers through the fleece upholstery. “It is a shame that they are as dirty as they are.”
“We can take care of that,” Johanna said. Within a few minutes, all the dust, dirt and grime were gone. The room looked like it was built just the day before.
“Now this is living,” the thief said as he jumped onto the divan and lay on his back. “Give me a good book and I will be happy.”
“Wait a mnute,” Balon said. “Where is all this light coming from?” The rooms that they had previously explored were outside rooms. Light came in either through windows or cracks in the walls. This was an inner room; there was no way the sun ray’s had penetrated this far. The light was much more than what their lanterns were giving out.
George looked at the sconce that was mounted over his head. Instead of holding a torch, it held a small cage. Similar sconces hung around all the walls of the library. Each cage gave off a red glow.
“Fire beetles,” Britt said.
“How have they survived after all these years?” Johanna said.
“Nobody knows how they live and eat. Yet they live many years,” the dwarf continued.
“Should we free them?” Massacharamar asked.
“I do not think these cages can be forced open,” Britt said. “However, it is better to leave them be. Once they are captive, they are not able to survive if they are released from their cages.”
George went over to look at some books on one of the shelfs. He picked up one and the pages fell away into dust. “It probably was not interesting anyway.”
“George,” Britt spoke suddenly and quietly, “whatever you do, do not move.”
George started to laugh. “You cannot fool me…” A hissing noise stopped his words. He turned slightly towards the noise. A giant snake was gliding towards him, eyeing his prey. Even if he wanted to run, he was not able to; he was frozen by fright, hypnotized by the beady eyes. The snake was so close that its tounge flicked out and touched George’s face.
“He is tasting me!” he whispered despartely. “He thinks I am his dinner! Please help me!”
“Keep calm, George,” Britt whispered drawing his sword. “We will save you. Both the dwarf and Bard slowly approached the snake on both sides. Massacharamar got her bow and arrow ready.
“One three,” Britt said. “One, two…”

 

After making sure there were no traps, the group stepped into the room, weapons ready. A smell like wet dog’s fur and stangnater water reached their nostrils. Standing just over two feet tall, two creatures were standing not too far from them. From Britt’s description earlier Bard knew that these creatures were Kobolds.They had scaley skin, heads and tails. While they resembeled lizards, the tails look like those of rats. However, their heads somewhat resembeled that of a dog.
“Are they related to dragons?” Bard asked.
“No, Kobolds are cold-blooded, where dragons are warm-blooded.”
The two creatures in front of them had hides that were a rust-brown in color.
It looked like they were planning on doing something.
“The one thing about Kobolds is that theare skillful planners. When you see one of these around, make sure to look for traps. They are very handy in these and setting up ambushes.”
When the intruders entered the room, they turned and looked at them with glowing red eyes.
“It is not good to come across a hungry Kobold,” Brit had said. “They eat anything and do not care about who or what they are eating. They have been know to start feasting on a fallen hero before he draws his last breath. They even eat their own comrades.”
“Will we run into these in the caverns?” Bard asked.
“The odds are possible. This is a perfect environment for them. Even though they can be found in all different sorts of climate, they would rather live in dark and damp places. So the most likely places you will fiund them are overgrown forests and caverns such as we are venturing into.”
“The worst thing about Kobolds is that they reproduce swiftly. When you find one or two, you most likely will find offspring and eggs as well.”
“Eggs?”
“Yes. Kobolds are egg layers. Since they hide when there are intruders, you will be surprised to know that the Kobold population is twice the size as the human population.
The Kobolds spoke in a voice that sounded like a dog yipping,
Tqo Kobolds were standing not too far from them.
“Please, we wish you no harm. We have been living here without our master for years. This is our only source of enjoyment. You can have it if you let us go in peace.” They stepped aside.
“Wow!” said George astounded. “I think we are going to be rich!” At the south end of the room, two large, jewel studded, wooden chests, were opened. Gold pieces overflowed both trunks and layed scattered over the floor.
As the group looked at this marvel, the two kobolds quickly ran out of the room.
“No, Bard,” said Britt. “They are just cowardly. They may lead us into a trap. Now that we are encountering monsters, we must be careful.”
“Careful, George,” said Balon, as the thief bent down to pick up some of the treasure. “It may be a trap.”
“I will say it is,” George said. As soon as he touched the first coin, the treasure disappeared in front of their eyes. “Those Kobolds tricked us.”
“An illusion,” huffed Britt.
Johanna looked around the triangular shaped room. “This is probably where Joban meditated, studied and practiced his spells.”
Balon ran his hand over the discolored floor near the south wall. His hand came up black as soot. “It is a good thing these rooms are made of stone. His spells must have thrown off such an intense heat that a wooded structure would have been burnt to cinders.
Bard bent down and picked up a piece of paper. “The kobolds must have dropped this.”
Britt opened it up and saw it was a crude map. “It shows two rooms just north of the kitchen. I rembember passing by it and thinking it was just a wall.”
“Do you think that the kobolds are trying to lure us there?” Massacharamar asked.
“It is possible, however, I feel that the kobolds just had the map for themselves. They are not the smartest creatures and probably would forget how to get in this room.”
“Shall we check it out?” said George.
“Yes, however, we still must be on the guard.”
For once Britt looked happy. “Up to know, I thought this was just a wasted trip. However, the future seems brighter.
He hummed, off key, to himself as they walked down the corridor.

“I could have sworn this was a room,” George said. “It shows right here on the map!”
Sure enough a room was shown jus a bit from the wizard’s chamber. They had reached a wall and followed it, thinking they would find a door. However, after turning one corner and the next, they ended up where they started at.
“Maybe it was a room that never was completed,” Britt said.
“Or maybe,” said Bard, “there is a secret door.”
Johanna started laughing, “I never even thought of that. Are you sure, your parents were not magic users?”
Balon took out his magic wand and pointed it at the wall. “Detect secret door,” he spoke to the wand. He looked at the wand and moved a short distance away. Then he gave the same order. Still, nothing happened.
“Maybe it is just a wall and no room,” Britt suggested.
“You may be right,” Balon answered. “However, this spell is only good for eight square feet. So we shoul check all possibilities before gibing up.”
They had rounded the corner and got halfway through the second wall, before Balon stopped.
The tip of the wand lit up. “The door is within this area,” Balon said. “We have to start looking for it.” He went up to the wall and started tapping on it. The other went up and started doing the same.
“Look,” Britt said, walking up to the wall and putting one hand on it, “I think this is just a waste of time. “I do not see how that wand can show us a hidden doooooor.”
The wall had given away and Britt fell into a room.
“Hey! You found the hidden door,” George exclaimed.
Stepping over Britt, they found themselves in a room that was obviously designed for various purposes related to the study and practice of magic.
“The Wizard’s Workroom,” said Balon. “No wonder he had a secret door. He probably even kept it hidden from Stephan.”
Several large wooden tables were in the room. The largest one, in the center of the room, was made out of stone. The top was made of smooth black slate. There were papers scattered throughout the room. A dressing gown was draped over a chair at one end of the room.
“This is still in good shape,” Balon said, holding it up. “Joban must have been very tall. This is too long for me.” He handed the gown to Johanna. “I believe that this can get at least five gold pieces.”
Bored, George kicked at a pile of papers. His foot hit something hard, like several stones. Bending down he moved the papers and his eyes widened in surprise. Whistling loudly, he appeared to be nonchalant as he put what he found in his pocket. However, he was making sure that everybody was watching him.
“Hand it over, George,” Britt said, holding out his hand.
“Who me?” asked the thief, innocently.
Britt said nothing, but kept his hand out.
“Party pooper,” he said as he handed what he found to the dwarf.
“Wow!” Britt said. “These must be worth two-hundred and fifty gold pieces!”
Bard looked at the silver stones in Britt’s hand. “What are those?”
“Rune stones,” Balon answered for Britt.
“What are they used for?”
“May I take one of these?” he asked Britt. The dwarf gave him one.
Balon turned the stone over in his hand until he found an inscription carved in the stone. He showed it to Bard.
“Each of these stone have a symbol carved into it. Each symbol is different from the other. Magic users use rune stones as guidance. I would not say that they are effective in predicting the future, since one individual has a totally different interpretation than the other.”
“How do you use them? Bard asked.
“Where did you find these, George?”
“Right over here.”
“There should be a bag or small sack. Oh I think this is it,” he bent down and picked up a small cloth sack, that had holes in it.
“Like I said, I do not use rune stones to predict the future. However, if I am forced with several different choices I use them. Let’s, for example, I am deciding whether to turn left or right and am not sure what to do, I have to clear my mind and focus. While focusing, I put the rune stones in the bag and mix them up.
“I then ask the question out loud or in my mind.
“Then I take a stone from the bag. By reading the symbol, I can know whether to take a left or a right. If I am not sure, then I take another stone and keep doing this until I get a clear answer.”
“So there is no magic in runestones?
“None. Even when I use them to make predictions, they do not always come true.”
Massacharamar came over with a piece of paper. “I found this in the wastebasket. It looks like a spell of some sort.”
“Let me see,” Johanna said. “This is a Spider Climb Spell.”
“How does that spell work?” asked the elf.
“When it is cast,” we can clim up walls without using ropes. “We can even move across ceilings just like a spider does.”
“That definitely would come in handy,” Britt said.
“Unfortunately,” said Balon, “neither Johanna not I are experienced enough to use this spell yet. To cast this spell, I must be a conjurer or Johanna a priestess. Still we can keep this spell for future use.”
The north wall had shelves containing glass and earthern jars. Each of the forty jars were approximately the same size, about a quart. However there was one glass jar that was considerable larger. It looked like it was about a gallon.
“They are probably still are full with different items that Balon may have used over the years.”
Britt looked around the clutter of the room, “George, do those jars have any traps?”
“No,” he said after examining several lids. “They are just used to storing things. Should we investigate the contents.”
“We each can look at two. Most likely, they probably just hold what Joban used for his art. Yet, you can never tell.”
He walked up and picked out two jars and opened them. “Mine have wood chips and metal fillings.”
“Maybe he was just a pack rat,” George said. “He probably was one of those people who did not like to throw anything away. Let’s see if I have better luck. Mine have salt and herbs. Maybe he was just a great cook and not a magician at all.”
“You are probably right,” Bard said laughing. His two jars contained tea and vinegar.
“This one contains sand,” said Johanna. “However, I am not sure what this one has. It has a weird smell.”
Bard came over and sniffed the jar. “I think that is sulfer.”
Massacharamar opened the one jar and ran her fingers through the substance. “I think this is stone. She caught the glitter through the fragments. This might be quartz. Bud did Balon crush the stone or did it just deterioriate with age?”
Balon answered, “Magic users use many substances with their spells. Crushed stone is one of them. What is in the other jar?”
“Let’s find out,” elf said removing the lid. “Oh boy that smells!” she exclaimed holding her nose. “I can’t believe it! This jar has dung in it!” She quickly put the lid back on.
Balon was the final one to pick up two jars.
“Is that what I think it is?” George asked.
“Yes, it is blood,” Balon answered.
“You mean to tell me that he killed something or somebody to get that blood?”
“From the looks of it, this appears to be orc blood. This does not mean that he killed this creature. It may have been already slain, before Joban got the blood.” He opened the second jar and saw that it contained body parts of bees, flies, beetles, and ants.
George stared transfixed at the large clear glass jar. “Hey guys,” he said, “oops and ladies,” he quickly added. “There is a cat in there!” The others gathered around the cabinet. Sure enough, the body of a black cat was floating in a clear, colorless liquid.
“I think I just saw it move!” Massacharamar said.
“You are seeing things,” Britt said. “How can that cat be alive after all these years?”
“He did move!” Johanna said. “Look at its paws!” The cats paws was slowly retracting its claws.

 

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?"