TST (58 page)

However, instead of the lethally destructive inferno that should have been released from such a spell, the fireball burst into a huge swarm of multi-colored, brightly luminescent butterflies. One of the sparkling insects landed on the nose of one of the creatures causing it to go cross-eyed trying to focus on it.

Tarth gasped at the effect his spell had created. “Oh, how pretty!” he squealed and clapped his perfectly manicured hands.

“For crying out loud, Tarth!” Maude shouted in frustration.

The warrior woman charged the group of fallen priests with a battle cry so shrill and full of malice that the hate-filled creatures before her paused in surprise. Maude savagely tore into the ranks of cursed creatures, cutting a path of destruction as she went. Her three companions followed behind, engaging any enemies that managed to avoid the enraged woman’s brutal assault.

Maude finally cut a path through to the rear ranks of the cursed priests and saw a lighter patch of darkness ahead.

“I think I see an exit!” Maude shouted to her companions.

Something sliced through the air near her head that caused one of the dark-skinned creatures behind her to cry out in pain. Several more objects whizzed past like a swarm of angry hornets, dropping and slowing their pursuers. A torch flared near the end of the passage revealing a lithe muscular shape wielding a bow.

“Kar’Rok!” Maude cried joyously.

“Run past me, quickly!” the wood elf ordered.

Maude grabbed Tarth by the hand and pulled him along, forcing him to move faster. Maude felt the wizard try to pull away but she jerked him forward forcefully.

“Come on, Tarth, what are you doing?”

“I lost my hat!” the elf wailed as he looked forlornly over his shoulder.

“Forget the damn hat!”

“I’ll never forget the hat,” Tarth whimpered as Maude half-dragged him towards the exit.

The party had to wade through a large pile of leaves that had accumulated at the base of the ramp that led the way to the surface. They barreled up the slope then came to a halt at the top, urging Kar’Rok to follow them.

“I’m right behind you,” he called up to them and dropped his torch into the pile of leaves that he had poured two flasks of oil on moments earlier.

The elf jogged up the ramp as the dry leaves erupted into a bright orange wall of fire, casting a bright flickering light into the faces of both the adventures and the evil former priests and their minions. The blue-black skinned creatures were forced to stop at the edge of the inferno and could only howl in futility as the desecrators made their escape.

“Kar’Rok, how did you find us? Did you settle the problem you had with your people?” Maude inquired as they jogged through the forest trying to put as much distance between them and the cursed temple as they could.

“Not exactly,” their guide answered vaguely.

Maude did not pursue the issue until they slowed to a walk once they reached the open ring of grass that circled the pyramid’s grounds. Even then, Kar’Rok avoided the question until they stopped for the remainder of the night, several miles away from the pyramid.

“So what happened to you? What kind of trouble are you in with your people?” Maude demanded.

Kar’Rok let out a long slow breath before answering. “I ran out on a marriage contract several years ago and the bride-to-be’s family were bent on enforcing it.”

Borik burst out laughing. “You left some elf maiden standing at the altar and that’s why you have been hiding from your people?”

“It is not a laughing matter. Her family is very well respected and my refusal to marry their daughter was looked upon as a grave insult,” Kar’Rok insisted.

“So why didn’t you want to marry her?” asked Malek.

The wood elf slowly shook his head. “It is complicated. It was arranged when we were both still children. I had other interests and goals when the time came for us to be joined. It just wasn’t going to work.”

“She’s ugly isn’t she?” Borik asked with a straight face.

“Extremely.”

Borik rolled onto his back, holding his stomach, and laughing in hysterics.

“It’s not funny! She was hideous, her hair was thin and stringy, her front teeth stuck out, one ear was twice as big as the other, and her right eye tended to wander around looking in every direction but forward!” Kar’Rok defended seriously.

Borik and Malek were both rolling with laughter at the elf’s plight. Even Tarth had to hide his mouth behind his hand to conceal his amusement.

“So how did you manage to get away this time?” Maude inquired.

“Same way I did last time, I snuck out so we had best move quickly. So did you find what you were looking for?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Not exactly, Borik, let’s see that mask.”

The dwarf opened his pack and pulled the heavy metal mask out. The mask was solid and heavy.

“That is all you found?” Kar’Rok asked incredulously.

“Yeah, it’s not what we hoped for but at least it’s something valuable,” Maude justified.

Borik handed Kar’Rok the mask as the elf leaned towards him for a closer look. Now it was Kar’Rok’s turn to burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Maude demanded.

The wood elf leaned forward cradling his forehead in his hand trying to subdue his mirth. “It’s worthless! You risked your lives for a worthless trinket!”

“Worthless?” Borik exclaimed. “That thing is solid—,”

“Brass!” Kar’Rok finished for him.

“Brass? Impossible. Who sets gems in brass?”

“They’re only semi-precious stones and crystals,” Kar’Rok pointed out.

“Unbelievable,” Borik muttered. “Not only were they evil and twisted but they were a bunch of cheap bastards to boot!”

The party went to sleep angry and dejected at the wasted trip that could have cost them their lives. Fortunately, their luck turned around and they made it back to Borne’s landing without further incident. The party welcomed even The Murder Hole’s substandard beds and warm food. Kar’Rok received the second half of his promised fee and disappeared back into the jungle.

They found the ship they had hired to bring them here still moored at the dock being loaded with fresh cargo and arranged passage back to Southport the next day. Maude found Tarth and Malek eating a simple breakfast of oatmeal and joined them.

“So how are we going to get Borik on the ship today?” Maude inquired of the two.

“We’re going to have to find him first,” Malek replied.

“Find him? Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He was already gone along with his gear when we woke up,” Malek told her.

“You don’t think he deserted us do you?”

“I think so. I think he finally cracked and ran off. You know how he is about boats.”

The remaining three members of the party searched the town for as long as they could until they had to board the ship before it set sail with the tide.

 “Should we stay here and look for Borik and catch a later ship?” Maude asked the cleric as they made their way to the docks.

“I don’t think so. We would have found him if he wanted to be found. We’ll just have to hope he calms down and comes back on his own.”

The party, smaller by one, walked down the dock towards the ship that lay at anchor. They had nearly reached the end of the dock when a familiar voice shouted down to them.

“There you all are! I thought I was going to have to leave ya behind,” Borik called down to his friends from the deck of the ship.

Maude looked up into the dwarf’s grinning face. “Borik, what are you doing up there? You hate ships!”

“Nuh uh, not this one. This is a beautiful ship! This is the most beautiful ship ever to sail the seas!” Borik grandly pronounced.

“What makes this ship so special?” Maude demanded, frustrated at the troublesome dwarf.

“Because this ship is leaving this thrice-damned place behind in just a few minutes!” Borik shouted gleefully. “Now hump your rumps on up here so we can leave!”

The party could only shake their heads in disbelief as they crossed the gangplank. As they boarded they could hear Borik shouting orders to the crew.

“Hoist the main sails, raise the anchor, swab the decks, ya lazy slouches, it’s time to go!” Borik shouted.

The dwarf started blowing as hard as he could into the sails in an attempt to get the ship moving faster until his face turned purple and he grew light-headed. He then hugged the center mast tightly and kissed it several times, drawing stares from the crew.

Azerick vs. the Giant

 “You stop now,” came the slow, rumbling command.

Azerick looked up and could not help but stare at what stood before him. Standing just in front of a bridge that crossed a narrow but deep river was a huge ugly man. He was not just huge but gigantic, far bigger than any human could possibly be.

The sorcerer ran through the veritable library inside his brain for any reference of such a creature. Just as the enormous creature jammed a thick finger nearly two knuckles deep into its left nostril, Azerick pieced together the creature’s identity. It was a giant, and not just any giant but a lowland giant, the most stupid of the elusive giant races.

The giant stood close to eleven feet tall and carried a club the size of a fencepost propped up on one shoulder. The giant pulled its finger out of its nostril and grinned stupidly, obviously pleased with the results of its nose mining.

Azerick felt his lunch rise to the back of his throat as the giant popped the large digit into its wide mouth then extracted it with a loud satisfying smack of his overly large lips. The lowland giant wore the skin of what appeared to be a bear that, judging by the smell, he had not bothered to cure before donning it.

Azerick stopped and stared at the slow-witted brute for several minutes until he realized that the giant had apparently forgotten the reason for ordering Azerick to stop. The lowland giant snapped back to reality as the human began walking towards his bridge once more.

“You stop now. You pay toll to use Bracknar’s bridge or you get squished,” the giant, apparently Bracknar, demanded.

Azerick’s first instinct was to blast the foul creature out of his way but quickly released his hold on the Source. The fact that his first instinct was to unleash his lethal power against this simple being deeply disturbed him. Lowland giants, like most giants, were not notoriously cruel as the fables and wives tales would have you believe. Perhaps they once were, but as humans grew in number and became a serious threat, the giant races receded from human populations and were rarely seen.

Azerick decided he would try his wits and words first. He could always rely on his magic if those failed.

“You can’t collect tolls on bridges,” Azerick informed the giant.

Bracknar scratched his head in confusion causing a host of fleas to jump about and seek refuge in his filthy bearskin. “Why not I cannot collect tolls?”

“Because everybody knows that only trolls can collect tolls and that is because they live under the bridge.”

Bracknar’s jaundiced eyes widened in fear as he quickly bent down and peered under his bridge for any sign of trolls. Having found none, he stood back up and turned his attention back to Azerick.