Tales of the Underworld Contest

Breathtaking locations like the Underworld are destined to inspire Bards to sing songs of bravery and adventure while others whisper warnings of mystery and dangers not meant for the timid.

So tell us adventurer, what story will you tell?

Post your ?Tale of the Underworld? right here, and include an excerpt in the comments; https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/?p=16474. And if you happen to impress this Bard, your Underworld Story shall be proclaimed throughout the land as the FIRST piece of Fan Fiction featured in our upcoming Community Spotlight!

And since many of you have requested guidelines, lets say under 3000 words and due no later then May 1st for consideration for the Community Spotlight!

 

"Tale of the Underworld" Story of FireLotus Flower Clan

Somewhere in the caverns live a clan of people. They are known as FireLotus Flower Clan. This village has been living in the caverns for 300 years. They go on raids to the surface to steal people for repopulating the village. They worship a FireLotus Flower due to its magical properties. They live near a river where they fish and gather water. They have a dislike of travelers who venture near their village. The village has a elder house in the middle next to a fire pit.There is a hidden room under the village elder's house that holds a book that has different recipes for cures, heals, summoning small animals, and gold. Then going in a circle is a three prisoner houses, a herbalist house, and then a jailor house. The next 2 circles are homes for the villagers. Near the cavern wall is where you see pile of bones from the prisoners that outlive there usefulness. This magical flower with its red petals and yellowish-orange stigma gives healing properties when you grind one of its petals, water from the river, and black moss from the cavern walls. This village is only inhabited by women and they are dresses in leather shorts and leather top. There is also rumors that somewhere near this village is a hidden path to another cavern. The passage that crisscross until it opens into a big cavern holds unknown creatures some are a cross between human and orc. While others are giant in nature but all who have seen this creature never lives to tell what it actually looks like. While rumors of treasure piles about 5 feet high and 40 feet long. This treasure some gold and some silver holds all sorts of weapons, armor, jewelery and pottery.

Further down the river is another village which is human but they leave it alone. Going the other way along the river is a town of goblins that ambush travelers along the river. Beyond this town is a series of webs from giant spiders that also live here. The green river has green glowing fish and giant clams with pearls in them. But in the deeper depths lives large river creatures with long necks, big bodies, and long tentacles. FireLotus Clan has made a hidden passage way to the surface for their raids. Due to drinking this potion from the flower the women look like 25 years old with athletic built, brown hair and green eyes. They get their armor and weapons from the raids besides the prisoners. The FireLotus Flower is inside a shrine near the village which is made from black moss and golden trinkets.

https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/?p=16474

 

Greetings, Fellow Bards...

I'll be following your tales and adventures here with deep interest. As I discover the legends, lore and mysteries of this new land, your own experiences will become a part of that tapestry defining the world.

So come, gathering of bards, and let us weave the fabric of our story from our threads together.

Edvard the Just
The Dragonsbard

 

Grandmaster Bard Holt Ironfell arrives with mead and mutton.

"A story of the underworld, you ask? Ah, we are in dark moods again this eve I see. Very well. Fill your bellies, to take the edge off my tale..."

 

*A rather doleful looking bardess moves to the stage, her head bowed and hidden by the cowl of her cloak. She simply stands there, awaiting silence from the crowd. When it is finally granted, then, and only then, does she begin in a clear voice heard throughout...*

Come, listen, a tale I doth share
of stalwart band with valorous goal,
who did long to slay a cave dwelling fiend
which would joy to steal adventuring souls.

Tis creature of the foulest spirit
made its home within the deeps,
where nary a soul would venture thus
for peril would they reap.

Six arms each holding stick and spear
six heads full of murderous teeth!
Its eyes aglow with evil intent
as death tis fiend would bequeath.

Our adventurous, brave and hardy band
chose the monster?s time with fate,
and together journeyed to the Deep -
hunting caverns for tis creature of hate.

Down, down, down into the dark
a journey not kind to the soul,
a test of sorts lie straight ahead
for our stalwart band with valorous goal.

Despite the warmth of torches glow
and flint with tinder to chase shadow,
the Deep doth grant a burdened tone
to depress e?en the most hallowed.

Glittering jewels so tug at greed
precious metals abound -
temptation left and right distract
with glamour from riches found.

There stood our valorous, stalwart band
mesmerized by treasures untold,
when silent as the dark can be
murderous intent be doled.

A head, a hand, an arm, a foot
bloody armor fell to earth -
for none had heard the silent stealth
yon monster sounds in dearth.

And last tis tale need be told,
of stalwart band with valorous goal -
twas of Scylla licking bloody fingers
from those lives that she hath stole.


*Despite the silence that follows, the bardess bows, completing her tale - and challenge - to those adventurous souls of the tavern.*

 

Report to the Lords and Ladies of the Court
Subject: catacomb entrance discovery
Submitted by: Knight Otha Livinded from the Knighthouse of Light,

.....

Sticky an' I have long held close th' whereabouts o' this secret grotto. Bein' farmers...mushroom farmers in particulars, we has our own trade secrets, and this was one o' them.

But, after th' events o' the past evenin', I feel I ought come clean and report to his lordship th' Knight some considerable strangeness we encountered in that confounded hole.

Gettin' really good mushrooms is an art in itself. It's easy enough to find ones that's edible stuff, and it' relative easy to find poisin' ones which tastes fine fore they bloat ya up til' ya explode...but finden mushrooms what's tasty eaten yet won't put ya down...yessir'ee...that takes real skill.

Well Sticky, that's my son yer Lordship, he's always been right arcane in his ability to sniff out the best mushys. We call him Sticky 'cause o' that incident with the giant slug four summers ago, but that don't matter here, I suppose.

Anyways, we was taken' baskets Libbie made, Libbie being the little woman....well...my wife, such as she is, taken our baskets to the grotto thinkin' we had best replenish our resources before the Mold Festival next week. Libbie already put up the Itchyberry jam this spring, and nothin' sells better for us than Itchyberry Jelly and Mushroom Pies. One sort o' undoes the effect o' the other, so we sell 'em hand in hand.

Well, we went back aways in Poopy Grotto lookin for a goodly crop....what's that sir?

No, your honor, I don' rightly know the correct name for this place. We calls it that 'cause mushrooms grows best in poop, and tarnation it is a poopy place. Come to think of it, we oughten maybe to have wondered just where all that crap was comin' from, ain't we?

Well, on this day, there weren't much in the way of mushys up front, so's we went in through the wee openin' in' back, and durn if there ain't a sort o' slippery ramp down like into the darkness back there we never knewed ever was. It went down and down, and there wer' promisin' signs in the way o' droppins all over. Big un's too.

Purity soon th' grotto weren't really no grotto no more, but terned into a sort o' high cielin like in church, but with water dripping and no fancy winders. We starts hearin' weird ghostly noises like Auntie Gumball when she was mumbling' her last breath.

We is still clutchin' mama's baskits, but we is startin' to shake from plain fear and those wicker straws is clattering' t'gether and makin' a racket. Sticky straightened up sudden like, and says, "Paw, they's mushy's jus' ahad!"

Well, th' boy ain't been wrong before about an important thing as that, so we plods on ahead into th' unknown. I pulls out my whittling blade just in case, thinking' about all that poop, and what it might o' fallen' out of. Likely some mushroom lovin' varmint with a big stomach, ahm reckoning.

Hopefully one what is peaceful, but down here in the inkly darkness, who knewed?

Terns out I was downright wise in my dee-vision. We no sooner took a few more steps when outta th' endless void came this thing.. Twernt man, though it stood right man-like.

Twernt a mushroom either, though it smelt powerful like one, an' it's damn freakish head was all cap shaped like a big sun bonnet.

It had stubby arms reaching' out towards Sticky with poka dots on 'em. Had legs like tree trunks it did. I'd be tempted to call me a lian' drunk if I weren't slop heeled sober and scared witless.

This terror o' th' dank...this mushroom man, he makes for the boy, and turns what passes for his back to me. Out o' desperation, I plunges my whittling' blade into this piece o' walkin' fungus, and don't you know, he just sorta fell apart like a rabbit what's gotten caught tween' two hungry wolf-hounds.

Wasn't nothin' substantial to him, at all.

Well, we-uh, Sticky an' I gathered up our baskets, which were lyin' all hither- skither, and we huffed it outta there pretty toot sweet. That's my tale, and I thought I had best report it true and honest, like.

The misuss wanted to also pass along to you this here plentiful basket o' mushroom pies. If I say so meself, they are dee-lishous!

Signed in good faith with his mark
X
Knurl Lee Bumswaddle, Farmer

 

Here goes my attempt at story-telling:

It is said that the curtain like stalactites hanging down from the ceiling within the grand underworld echo a stately wind singing the songs of the heroes past, and those now present, yet to be written. Mysterious stalagmites rise from the floor with a majestic solitary grace. Appearing as stately fountains from the ground water seeping down around their form. Making the inexorable journey to a stream flowing to places unknown.

Amidst a mossy shore comprised of eroded stalagmites, a trio of adventurers possibly hearing and pondering the song of the heroes in the wind follow the path of the stream, to places unknown. Where they spot in the distant fog silent statues standing as sentinels to a uncertain path to be determined by the songs of the heroes.

Thanks. SilverSerpent

 

To all, this tale is only a snippet of what happened to our fellow hero's, maybe one day we shall know what has truly happened and how they faired, please enjoy this short story of the Underworld.

~ThommyGunn


?As our three hero?s gather a minute to catch their breath, they reflect on what had just transpired, and mourn the loss of their brother in arms. They all look at each other sadly, wiping the sweat and tears from their faces. Once again they collect themselves and know they must press on. In the darkness one of them can see an outline in the rocky walls ahead. As she approaches it, she lights a torch and sees an entrance. The three carefully draw their weapons once again and enter the cave.

They tread softly as they enter into a long tunnel, sounds of their footsteps echoing faintly through the silent cave. The further they went inside, the more their hearts beat. Then, in the distance they hear the trickling sounds of water. The thirsty hero?s gain a boost of energy and pick up their pace, still minding their surroundings however. As the sounds drew closer the heroes could see a subtle light in the distance. They put their torch out and proceed with caution.

The sounds were nearly upon them, they glance at one another with tremendous smiles and their spirits have been lifted as they looked ahead. They saw, not just a light at the end of the tunnel, nor water, but an enormous opening in the cave as far as the eye can see. There was light that shined through the other end of the caves opening, however the beauty lay where their eyes can?t be pried from.

Rock formations of all shapes and sizes, stalagmites and stalactites were as sturdy and long as they were thick. Several patches of cave mushrooms scattered throughout the entire area. In the distance they can see where the water is coming in, forming a small waterfall, but big enough to keep a stream full and flowing right through the heart of the cave. The way the light coming in reflects off the water is breathtaking.

As the light is shining through, one of the hero?s notices off to one side of the cave several purple sparkles. She decides to check on these as her companions are drinking from the stream. As she gets closer, she lets out an excitable gasp at the realization that these sparkles are truly Underworld Gems. The other two soon follow in her lead, with same excitement and anticipation to explore even further.

The three continue to follow the gems, with a little sparkle in each of their eyes, only to stop abruptly on the other side of the mound. It looks as though our heroes are not alone. From where they stand they can see several small mud huts, which look to hold a few people in each. Each hut has a small torch glowing just outside of their door. Through the center of the cave, where the stream is, they notice a small bridge to allow people to cross easily to either side. Behind the mud huts seems to be more prominent abodes, made of mud as well, but also looks as though they used bones like bricks in order to stabilize the structure.

Suddenly one of the hero?s notices a large mansion style structure, perhaps the leader of this area. This mansion is made of rocks, mud, and several bones. Skulls line the steps which lead up to an open door. The door has many more skulls dangling from hooks on both sides. Skulls impaled on the ends of spears are used as torches lighting the way up the stairs to the door. They could see the blood stains that have been put there over the years. This mansion, unlike all of the other huts in this area, had one massive window well above the doorway. Who knows what could be in there, it was too dark to tell.

Standing there in awe, one of the hero?s slips as the rocks under his feet give way, the echo that came thereafter awoke bats which flew by screeching as loudly as they could while they headed to the back of the cave. The hero?s all stood there in shock, frozen in fear as to what else they may have awoken.

Just then, they hear footsteps. The three turn around quickly to see several small creatures staring at them. Looking closer at these ?creatures?, they are extremely pale and their eyes are as white as the moon. Their teeth seem very similar to human?s, except they tend to have more rough, saw like, teeth on both sides of their two front teeth. They stood approximately four foot tall, several were bald, and some had extremely black hair. The heroes were able to tell the difference between the male and the female, other than those noticeable features, they seem to be just like humans.

A sudden uneasy feeling overfell the three companions as they looked at these Underworld creatures. Not sure how to approach the situation one of the hero?s steps forward and reaches his hand out to shake one of their hands. As he is about to speak there is a rumble that shakes the inside of the cave.

Then suddenly, ?RROOOOAAAARRRR!!!!!? As loudly as it could be, echoing for what seemed like eternity.

Right then the Underworld creatures all started to whimper and scurry to their huts, some blowing out their torch. Not sure what is going on, the hero?s all equipped their weapons and took a defensive stance behind some rock formations, facing towards the light at the end of the cave, where the sound came. From there they gave each other a quick glance and a nod, then braced themselves for the unknown?


Thanks for reading,
~TG

 

Once upon a time there was a little girl who walked through the underworld to see her grandma they died.... the end
I'm not very good with stories

 

A fork to the left, a fork to the left, a fork to the right, left, right, right.... they could barely complete five paces before they faced another decision.

"You sure he said to keep going straight, Shawn?"
"Look Fil, he was drunk. I'm not sure he even knew what he was sayin'."
"Well, I heard tell that each turn changes after someone go down it. I also heard there was a sorta glitch in the magic and a guy got stuck taking left turns for infinity."

Shawn's eyes rolled in skepticism. He turned left, pointed "This way" and stepped decisively forward. Fil leaped forward and followed on Shawn's heels, looking up over his shoulder for any glint or shimmer.

"Aye, Shawn! I told ya. We stepped right back into where we was!"
"Oh, pish, Fil. This isn't the same place, see? This one is left, right, right, left."

"Whew. But lets go right this time, ok?"
Right it was. Before long they realized there were no forks, left or right, but a tall passage that led ever so slightly down and straight as a draftsman's line.

"Fil, look. copper. Get yer hammer pick ready. Where you find copper you find amethysts. If I get enough I'll make a bracelet to strengthen my bow arm.

It wasn't the tak-taking of the hammer that woke her; it was the lantern smoke that had wafted up into the darkness above Filbert and Shawn. Now she heard that infernal hammer, ruining the walls she so carefully polished. She made a sound that was halfway between a loogie wind up, and a cat mewling, loosely translated as "F**king Humans". She poured a pseudopod down at the pair.

Is it curtains for our intrepid pair?

 

How did I get here? Where, pray tell, is -here- anyway?

The thoughts slowly coalesced in Thom?s head as consciousness returned.

He slowly opened his eyes, hoping for an answer to these questions, but was greeted only by darkness.

Am I blind? Am I ... dead?

These frightening possibilities quickened his pulse, which made it rather obvious that he was, after all, still alive. He attempted to steel himself, to take stock of his situation.

I am cold, and wet, and ? what is this? Smooth stone, against my cheek?

Thom slowly began to stir, trying to pick himself up from his current resting spot. Despite the outcry of his many scrapes, bumps and bruises, he managed to get himself into a seated position. He sat this way for a minute or so, listening. He could hear the faint sound of running water somewhere in the distance.

And there he sat, pondering his dire situation, when something most unusual happened. Not more than a stone?s throw from where he sat, what appeared to be some sort of tree began to faintly glow. And then again, off in the distance, another one, and another! This continued for the next several minutes, each one adding to the most-welcomed glow. Thom slowly got to his feet and hobbled over to one of the ?trees?. Upon closer inspection, he realized that this was a stone column, covered with moss ? glowing moss!

Perhaps this is not the end of me after all.

The thought vanished from his mind as he heard? something. It sounded like voices, but it was no language that he had ever heard. He ducked back behind a rock outcropping, doing his best to stay hidden. The voices steadily grew louder, two of them, as best he could tell. Soon he could tell that they were in the same cavern with him, and he risked a peek around the edge of the rocks that hid him. He saw two men, or man-shaped creatures ? it was impossible to tell in the dim light of the cavern. One of them had something big thrown over its shoulder. A deer, possibly, or perhaps something more unsettling.

The creatures continued on their way, and eventually went out of sight from where Thom hid.

I have to get out of here. But which way is out?

 

Town of Coolphoenix the wicked

About 300 years ago there was a knight named Coolphoenix. For twenty years this knight served his lord until one day. It was in the year of Red Wizard Kara that events unfold for Sir Coolphoenix. While walking through the woods of Khel Coolphoenix found a lady. She was dress in a red robe with red shoes. Her hood was up and she was being attacked by four goblins. Coolphoenix gives a yell and runs into the battle first killing the goblin archer that was standing behind as his three friends was fighting the lady. As the goblin head flys thru the air Coolphoenix next kills a goblin holding two daggers. A goblin holding a two-handed sword swings and cuts the knight in the arm. Coolphoenix yells and with fire in his eyes he swings his sword and cuts off the goblin's legs. The last goblin was big and ugly wears only a piece of cloth around his waist and has a crude mace in his right hand. He grab the lady by the neck and tells the knight "Stop or she will die.". Coolphoenix stops in his tracks and swings his sword blade down and put it in the legless goblin's chest. "What does this woman mean to you?" say the goblin. "Nothing but its a knight's duty to protect." say Coolphoenix has he slides a dagger from inside his wrist armor and throws it at the goblin. The dagger flys thru the air and hits the goblin in the eye.

The goblin screams in pain and throws the woman to the ground as he rushes the knight. Dasok swings his mace at the knight who dodges and then grabs his sword. As Coolphoenix blocks and parrys he reachs for the dagger and pulls it out. Dasok screams as green blood runs out of the eye socket. The battle goes for two minutes before the Dasok gets tired and falls to the ground. The mace rolls from his hand and Kara picks it up and mashes Dasok head with it and green blood splashes on her red robe. The knight kneels down on the ground wipes his dagger and sword on Dasok. Kara seeing the knight isn't getting up asks "Are you ok?". "Yes I'm fine and my name is Coolphoenix." . "Well my name is Kara and I would like to thank you for saving me.". Coolphoenix gets up and walks towards Kara but falls on his face. Kara runs to the knight and speaks a spell seeing the knight was poison and grabs her belongs and speaks another spell. Both her and the knight disappears into the thin air.

In a cavern under the ground there is a green river flowing through it. Not to far from the river is a town built with a farm behind it growing some kind of crop. The residents have cut into the rock to have the water flow into the town center and then on to the farm fields. The town walls have black moss growing on them. There are four towers with five houses and a horse stables. The main keep you see people cooking the kitchen and maids running around making sure everything is clean. There in the bedroom we see a big bed covered in red sheets and bookcases with books on the walls. All of the sudden Kara and Coolphoenix appear in the middle of the room. Keisa enters the room and bows before her lady and is surprised to see the knight. "Keisa start the bath and add 4 drops of red liquid and 1 drop of green liquid quickly he is poison and he saved my life." . "Right away my lady" as Keisa runs off to the bath house as Kara starts to remove the knights armor. The next day Coolphoenix wakes up and sees he is in a bedroom sleeping under red covers.

 

The Cavern

She stood on the rocky precipice looking out upon the dense rock that filled this cavern. The sound of water filled the air before her; its smell gave what little freshness there was to be had in this dank place. A humid mist permeated the air and diffused the light across the cavern.

Jumping down from her precipice, she rejoined her companions across a small wooden bridge over the sheltered river. The stalagmites and other cavernous formations spoke to the absolute timelessness of this place. To her left was a modest waterfall, an obvious inlet of moisture from the surface far above this place.

The tread of one?s shoe was important here unless great care were taken. Moisture put off by the river both beautified the cavern but acted as a deadly host to her earnest companions. A simple mistake with one?s footing could result in a fall into the river below, or gravity between the rock and one?s head. However, she had much more experience moving through these so-called ?catacombs? than any of her companions.

Finally, she caught up to the companions. Two of them, both male, were a wealthier sort from the cities. Flush with cash and equipment, they hired her to guide them across the continent on a pilgrimage to a famous shrine of Honor. Both were showing their inexperience now as they began to question her about the caves to which she had become so familiar.

?Yintara, does this place have a name? It is simply incredible in its size and scope.? The one man stated with his academic urban tone. ?Come now, speak girl.?

She shook her head, ?Nah, ?tis but a dank old cavern. We should move along.? The lie was to guard the secrets of the cavern. Of course it had a name, but it would do them no good.

The other man spoke up, ?Think of it Jinta, we could name it after ourselves at the college back home.? A sparkle of ambition and pride filled his eyes that dwarfed the sparkling jewelry with which he adorned himself.

?A marvelous mark of discovery on our record it would be Klint.? Jinta nodded in agreement in awe of the underworld before him.

Yintara kicked some stones across the cavern floor into the river below to kill some time while the gentlemen stroked their egos and waxed intellectual about their geological knowledge. She watched as the river flowed by with a slight roar that echoed throughout the cavern. She casually listened to Klint and Jinta.

Jinta turned to Klint, ?Yes, the formation over there came from the droplets of water of ceiling depositing calcium over centuries or more?? he trailed off into a diatribe of geological knowledge for a time. Klint didn?t back down, and showed his knowledgeable side too and they engaged in speculations that would challenge the Virtue of Humility itself. All the sorts of creatures that may or may not exist living in these caverns and the ecosystems they might participate in.

Klint walked over to his right to a stalagmite. It was thick, at least the width of a man, but at the base of the formation was a strange batch of white growths. They disguised themselves well as rocks, but it was a living organism down here beneath the surface. All part of an ever growing underworld taking shape beneath the feet of civilization.

?Yintara, any idea what these are?? Klint poked at one with a beautiful jeweled knife in his hand that had inlaid gemstones in the shape of an ankh. He attempted to lift one from the ground with the tip of his blade.

?I wouldn?t do that if I was you.? She stated frankly without even looking at what he was doing.

Klint stopped and looked over at her. ?Why not? And you didn?t answer my question.? He looked over at Jinta for some support in what could be a confrontation.

?Ya didn?t hire me to give you the grand tour, just to get ya across these caverns.? She stated as she chewed a leaf of some kind in her mouth. ?Just don?t mess with it.?

Klint took some offense to her words and marched over to Jinta. ?Who exactly does she think she is? She works for us, and?? Jinta cut him off before he could finish his statement.

?Don?t let it bother you. What is to be expected of folks from outside the cities but poor manners and lack of thirst for knowledge.? He said with a condescending tone, ?We must remind ourselves that we are on a pilgrimage to the shrine of Honor, and it is Honor we will bring to ourselves and our home city and even mankind!? His grandiose speech seemed to effect Klint?s mood, but Yintara remained unbothered now spitting at the river below.

Klint nodded and returned to the small organism on the rock floor. ?We are here for the advancement of all mankind and bring Honor!? He boasted loudly over the roar of the river throughout the cavern. Returning with his knife, he once again began prodding the little white thing on the floor.

With a sigh, Yintara turned to face her employers and watched as they observed the specimen. She looked up at the ceiling of this cavern and noted the well-known curtain shaped formations along it. The wide arches always impressed her in this place, even for as often as she sees them.

?Ya realize I?m paid by the hour, aye?? She shouted over to them in hopes to move them along.

?Shush girl, we are studying and well aware of your payment as we arranged it for you.? Jinta stated with authority as if she were a servant girl inside his island castle off the coast of his property. The jingle of coin in his purse was an alluring sound as they jabbed the strange thing.

Yintara rolled her eyes and kicked her feet as she attempted to kill more time, but slowly began making her way back to the wooden bridge. She was all too familiar with this place. Her family was from a town beneath the surface where they traded with passers-by on the highways of the underworld. A sort of black market, one could say. Her childhood was spent combing these caves and learning all their secrets. Finding employment on the surface as a guide brought extra money in for her family back home since business could rise and fall depending on all sorts of circumstances.

Her parents had taught her about the Virtues, but in her hometown none was more celebrated than the Virtue of Humility; however, in turn mostly forsaking the remaining Virtues. She surmised that perhaps the most forsaken Virtue of their town was Honesty, but that was a debate left to wiser men she thought. These companions she was guiding were committing a hubris of great scale for her and her culture, an offense not taken well by denizens of these caverns. Humility was respect. Humility was everything.

?Come, girl, we have a task for you.? Jinta stated plainly now acting as though he could simply control her as he saw fit. He hadn?t even bothered to look up at her to bark his order.

She approached a few feet but maintained a distance. ?What is it?? She asked with restraint. It was all she could do to not call him ?boy? in return, but that would endanger her own sense of Humility.

?We want you to lift this thing off the ground for us. You must know how.? He continued to not even look at her. ?Come now girl, we haven?t got all day.?

?No.? She simply stated and walked away.

?Listen here, we have hired you to work with us along our journey and?? He now spoke to her as if he were a father or some authority figure.

?No, you listen here. I?ll leave you to wander lost in these caverns for the rest of your days if you don?t watch yourself.? With that, she turned and walked some distance away to restrain the fury building inside her.

?Think of the Honor we will bring civilization with this discovery!? He pleaded to her sense of the Virtues, ?Have you no Virtue, girl?!? He turned back to the specimen with disgust. ?We will figure it out ourselves and you will wait for us then.?

It had become a matter of pride now for the two, she thought. They wouldn?t easily let this one go until she complied with their wishes or they figured it out for themselves. A smirk streaked across her face as she realized that things had become all too easy for this venture.

Jinta held in his hand a flat blade, jewel encrusted as well, with the mark of a chalice on it. He was now shoving it underneath the white organism disguised as a rock. He was focused on getting this thing detached from the floor now to save his pride.

Klint stood up and looked out around the cavern. Very light purple specks floated around the cavern that he hadn?t noticed before. They were few and perhaps he had easily missed them. He shook his head as he wiped some sweat from his brow after fooling with this specimen for easily fifteen minute now. Very rarely had he engaged in such hard work in his time, and watched Jinta forcefully remove this specimen from the floor.

?Pchffffffffffft.? The specimen broke off and burst open releasing a cloud of the purple spores. Jinta and Klint immediately began coughing as their lungs filled with the foreign agents. In less than a minute the cloud had dispersed and they looked around for Yintara. She had vanished into the darkness of the caverns around them.

They tried to talk or yell for her but the coating of spores in their lungs and larynx had deadened their ability to speak. Quickly the two men got to their knees and pulled out their fine leather canteens and attempted to drink and wash away the spores. The water was rejected as they spit it out onto the floor of the cavern, and dizziness began to sweep over them.

?Your hubris to the Virtue of Humility has swept upon you. Feel your punishment.? Yintara?s voice could be heard echoing throughout the chasm now. The echoes obscured her exact position from them.

Jinta pulled from under his shirt a prized golden, emerald studded miniature chalice on a gold chain around his neck. He grasped both hands around the chalice and began rocking back and forth as the weakness began to spread throughout his body.

Klint had regurgitated onto the floor and rose to desperately search for Yintara?s location. He stumbled across the bridge and around a column, searching for who he believed had all the answers and could have prevented this. Finally fatigue began to overcome him as the spores took full effect inside his body. Looking at Jinta, he finally understood and fell to his knees again. From under his shirt he removed a jewel encrusted ankh of a considerably heavy metal.

He grasped it with both hands began to mouth some kind of words or prayer. Perhaps hoping for the compassion of some deity, or the compassion of Yintara to finally descend from the shadows and end this nightmare. As they both knelt there praying the spores progressively reduced their consciousness. Soon they would be overcome by the spores, and they believed death surely awaited them.

Slowly they both fell flat onto the floor of the caverns and slipped into a deep sleep. Klint blinked his eyes a few last times and noticed a pair of shoes quickly approaching them. Hopefully Yintara had heard his plea for Compassion, he thought as he finally slipped away.

A dream began in his mind, and it seemed as though Jinta had joined him in a conscious state, both joined together somehow in this dream. A voice spoke to them from a white light surrounded by blue and then darkness. It tried to teach them of Humility to bring about some change in them. Walking them through clich?d examples of how their actions had affected others, and what they could do to help reestablish their Virtue of Humility.

Meanwhile, Yintara had found the men after they had fallen unconscious and the spores had dissipated into the stale atmosphere of the caverns with a large sack slung across her shoulder now. Her lungs and Virtue had long adapted to the spores, barely affecting her anymore, but it was always important to respect nature. Slowly but surely she methodically unbuckled, unlatched, and removed all the belongings from Klint as though she had done this a hundred times before.

She stuffed his jeweled ankh into the sack with his fine leather canteen. The fine Baron?s clothes would make a wonderful addition to her father?s shop back home. The coin purse held in excess of five hundred gold, a worthy sum for any journey. She questioned how they could be so stupid as to not have a hired an escort accompany them into the caverns, but they were not alone in this stupidity. Perhaps they trusted too much in people?s Honor, she thought.

After stripping Klint clean of valuables she moved into Jinta. Jinta?s equipment reflected a very sincere devotion to Honor and forsaken all other virtues. Almost everything, including his belt buckle, had an Honor chalice engraved upon it. His clothes had the markings of a Duke upon them, and they would fetch a fine price at the markets. Searching his coin purse, he carried with him in excess of seven hundred gold. She had really struck it rich on this venture.

Sorting through the coin purse she found a note deep inside. Unraveling it, she found written upon it ?Jinta, should the girl prove invaluable I deem that we should double her pay upon completion of services rendered. It is both the Honorable, and Compassionate, thing to do. ?Klint? A slight pang of remorse swept over her for a moment. To mock this note would break her own notions of Humility. The thought of leaving these two gentlemen, no matter how hoity and condescending they may be, now left her feeling sour about the situation.

She sat back and thought about it for a moment. Perhaps overcome with the sense of Compassion that Klint had, she decided that they weren?t going to get there stuff back but she wouldn?t leave them completely helpless. Reaching back into her sack she removed each of their blades and left it by their sides for when they awoke some hours later. Taking the note she found, and a piece of charcoal from Jinta?s coin purse, she drew a shoddy map to return them the way they came and left it under Jinta?s knife.

Finally feeling as though her duty to Compassion and Humility had been served, she hoisted the sack over her shoulder and fled into the darkness of the deep caverns once again. The sound of her footsteps echoed softer as the cavern became completely still. Only the roar of the river now remained in this cavern.

Klint began blinking as he awoke. He went to grab his necklace to thank Compassion for bringing them back but realized it was gone. Not only was it gone, but everything was gone except his undergarments and his knife beside him. He shook his head and slammed his fist into the rock floor realizing now that they had been robbed. He had to wonder if she had been planning it this whole time.

Looking over at Jinta, he saw that he had already awoken and was sitting on a rock nearby looking at a parchment with his knife in hand. He walked closer to Jinta and asked, ?I?m guessing the spore acted as some kind of sleep-inducing hallucinogen. It was like we were in the same dream.? Klint sat down next to Jinta.

Jinta simply nodded as he stared at the paper.

?What?s that?? Klint asked trying to get something out of him.

?It looks like a map. I?m guessing Yintara didn?t want to leave us to die down here.? Jinta stated with a resigned voice. ?I dreamt of Humility too; I think those spores joined us in a dream somehow. They connected us in some way.?

Klint looked around the cavern. ?Well, I suppose we had better get moving. We?ve got no food or water and we won?t last long down here.? He stood up and began moving toward the small wooden bridge.

Jinta sighed and looked at Klint. ?Aye, you?re right. We?d best be going.? He walked over to the organism that had sprayed them earlier. ?We may as well take it for study and get something out of this trip besides a moral lesson.?

Klint laughed, ?Grab it and let?s move.?

Picking up the dead organism, Jinta joined Klint by his side and they both looked down the dark tunnel from where they had come sometime earlier. ?Do you think anything is down there??

Klint shrugged, ?I don?t know, there wasn?t when we came this way.?

The two began moving toward their destination with blades drawn and a wary walk. It was nearly a day?s journey to the surface from here, and that was with a guide. As they passed the threshold from the cavern into the tunnels ahead, a large shadow skittered through the darkness beside them. Unaware of the dark red eyes watching as the two passed into the dense interconnected tunnels of the system known on the surface as the ?catacombs?. As they disappeared into the distance so did the red eyes in tow. Soon all that remained was the roar of the river in the ancient cavern known as Rogue?s Rest.

-

Thank you so much for reading my submission! I really appreciate any feedback you have to give. I may be reached at vandigeth@gmail.com Thanks again!

I hope you guys like it! I?m afraid it?s boring Final word count of the story: 2970

 

Don?t ask questions you don?t want the answers to - Tales from the criminal underworld




?Why do they call her Delia the Drowner?? Tomarch asked his sister.
?Don?t ask questions you don?t want the answer to.? Roxi replied, handing him the wineskin.
?I didn?t ask questions when you entered me into that tavern-room fighting tournament, and now me damn head is split nearly half open.? Tomarch moaned. ?Why do they call her Delia the Drowner??
?Because she?s a vice queen.? Roxi said. ?She deals in tobacco. Opium. Wine and mead. She runs half the gambling halls and whorehouses from the docks to downtown, and she?s an incredibly dangerous gangster.?
?You didn?t answer the question.? Tomarch spat out a gob of blood.
?Don?t ask questions you don?t want the answers to.? Roxi replied again.
?Am I hallucinating, or did you say that again?? Tomarch asked.
?You?re not hallucinating. Drink. It will dull the pain.? Roxi helped him lift the wineskin to his lips.

Tomarch clenched his teeth around the funnel and chugged, gulping down the sweet red liquid. It mixed with the blood in his mouth. He couldn?t taste the difference between the metallic taste of his own essence and the sting of the alcohol. It all washed away in the pain of his jaw, as the wine flowed into the bloody, empty sockets where his teeth used to be. It hurt almost as bad as his head. Almost.

?Careful!? Roxi tried to tug the wineskin out of his mouth. ?Don?t get too drunk, if you pass out now with your head rattled like this, you might not wake up. That?s how all the best prize fighters die.?
?She drowns people, doesn?t she?? Tomarch smiled. ?That?s what you don?t want to tell me.?

Roxi knew she couldn?t lie to her own brother. She had certainly tried before, but he knew her too well. She was a career thief, a street urchin, a fast-talking waif, and she could lie in front of the altar at the temple and the priests would believe her, but she could never get one past Tormach.

?She opens up a keg of ale, or a cask of mead. Then she has her thugs dunk your head in it, and they hold you there. She says she?ll let anyone go who can drink their way out of drowning. No one ever has. No one can swallow booze that fast. At least, not without breathing.? Roxi explained. ?Then, when her thugs are hauling the corpse away, she sends the bill for the cask to the victim?s family. Its her calling card.?

?And you?re worried about me drinking myself to death over a concussion.? Tomarch laughed. Some of the spittle got on Roxi?s tunic. The red wine stained it. Or was that blood? Yes, it was probably blood. ?What did you bet on me to win that fight??
?Everything.? Roxi replied, too fast.
?What did you bet on me to win that fight?? Tomarch asked again.
?Don?t ask questions you don?t want to know the answer to.? Roxi replied.
?She?s going to drown us, isn?t she?? Tomarch laughed. Was he drunk? Roxi couldn?t tell.
?You were supposed to win. You were the favorite, 7 to 1.? Roxi snapped.
?Delia cheated.? Tormach spat.
?I know she cheated!? Roxi hissed. ?She?s a vice queen! But you?re a head taller than her fighter, with longer stride and longer reach, and he always steps into his left hook, he gives away all his punches!?
?You don?t know anything about fighting, Roxi.? Tomarch spat. ?He had plaster in his gloves. I could feel it the first time he hit me. And the second. Not the third though...?
?Does it really make that much of a difference?? Roxi asked.
?Its the difference between getting hit by a man, and getting hit by a brick wall. 7 to 1 odds? Ha! I should have bet on him too. How could you not have known she would have done this? We could have taken a dive. We could have taken a split of the money.? Tomarch slurred.
?But if we won, you?d be famous!? Roxi insisted.
?Famous in a shitwater fishing village for winning rigged tavern brawls? Roxi, you really don?t know anything about fighting.? Tomarch laughed.
?Just stay awake and only drink enough to numb the pain.? Roxi insisted. ?I can get us out of this.?
?How?? Tomarch spat blood.
?Don?t ask questions you don?t-? Roxi started
?Oh enough with that already!? Tomarch growled. ?What are you going to do, really??
?Delia told me if I could get her troll?s blood wine, she?d forgive the debt.? Roxi replied.
?What, so you?re going to become an adventurer, run off hunting monsters? Bring Delia back a vial of troll blood to spike her drink with? Roxi, I might have had my head rattled, but at least halfway screwed onto my shoulders!? Tomarch insisted.
?There hasn?t been trolls in these parts for three generations, the milita ran them out of the countryside in grandfather?s time.? Roxi replied. ?But Delia is desperate. She needs troll blood, she told the Count De Soto she could get it, that she could make the wine.?
?Is this another question I don?t want to know the answer to?? Tomarch took another swig of wine from the skin.
?No, this is common knowledge. Count De Soto came down with a wasting illness. He?s being driven around by his sons in a wheeled chair, and he?s obsessed with finding a cure. He?s commissioned every adventurer and bountyhunter from here to the coast to bring back whatever miracle panacea they can find, and a mystic told him the rejuvenating properties of troll blood wine would restore health to his ravaged flesh.?
?Delia told him she could get troll blood wine, didn?t she?? Tomarch realized.
?Why couldn?t she?? Roxi shrugged. ?She?s a vice queen. If it involves booze, she must know someone who has it.?
?But nobody does.? Tomarch nodded.
?But nobody does.? Roxi smiled.
?That still doesn?t explain how you?re going to get it. You?re no fighter, there?s no trolls for miles, and even if I was in any shape to swing a sword, it?s a troll, how would we kill it, even if we found one?? Tomarch slurred.
?We?re not going to go looking for one.? Roxi grinned. ?I?m going to pay a visit to Myso the alchemist.?
?That sniveling little weasel that had a crush on you when we were still children?? Tomarch laughed.
?I?ll bet that he still does. A man always wants everything he never had.? Roxi smiled.
?You?re not going to whore yourself to him in the hopes that he?ll brew up some miracle elixir. I won?t allow it. I?ve seen the way he looks at women. He?s a spineless rat of a man. I?d rather let Delia drown me that let you fall into the arms of that pervert.? Tomarch spat. Blood was getting all over the floor.
?Tomarch, I?m not a virgin.? Roxi rolled her eyes.
?You?re not a slut either!? He growled. ?And don?t tell me those sorts of things, its not the kind of information a brother wants to hear from his sister, whether he?s sober or drunk.?
?I?m not going to sleep with him.? Roxi said. ?I?m going to seduce him.?
?How is that any different?? Tomarch laughed.
?Seduction isn?t sex, its what you can get a man to do for you while making him think you?re going to give him sex.? Roxi explained.
?Where did you learn all this drivel?? Tomarch half-laughed, half-cried.
?I used to pick pockets on the johns coming out of the whorehouse down by the docks. I split the spoils with the girls working there. They taught me a trick or two.? Roxi explained.
?What kind of trick- Wait. That is a question I don?t want to know the answer to.? Tomarch shook his head.

Roxi smiled.

She left Tomarch in the corner to nurse his wounds and his wineskin, and she went into the other room to slip out of her tunic and into her good dress for temple day.

Its not very sexy. She admitted. But its better than wearing that old burlap sack.

She reached under her bed and pulled out the little black lacquer case that the working girls had given her when she used to work the whorehouse. Tomarch didn?t know she had it. He wouldn?t have approved- But Tomarch wasn?t the kind of criminal mind his sister was. He always preferred honest work. She just preferred not to starve. Hunger won out over morals every time for her.

Opening the little black case, she pulled out a small ceramic jar full of a waxy substance, and dipping in two fingers while watching herself in the mirror built into the black case?s lid, she rubbed the wax on her lips and puckered until she couldn?t feel it anymore. That was when she knew it had dried into a flexible, rubbery protective seal. She put the lid back on the wax jar, then reached into the little black case for another vial of thick, red, gel-like liquid. Using a tiny brush, she painted her lips with it, being excruciatingly careful to make sure it only touched the wax, never bare skin- The makeup was Whore?s Lies, a mix of rouge and red lotus extract- An intoxicant so powerful it could knock a man unconscious with a deep breath of it. Or a kiss.

It was time to pay a visit to Myso the alchemist.

?Of course I have time to see you.? He smiled as he let her in the door. ?What brings you to my humble alchemist?s shop?? He sneered.
?I knew you would help me.? Roxi baited him. ?It?s trolls blood. I need trolls blood, you?re an alchemist, you must have it... Or something like it.?
?Truth be told, dear,? Myso started, ?There?s no trolls blood to be had for miles. Or trolls for that matter. Surely you know that our grandfathers ran the trolls out of the country back in their day. No one has seen such a beast here since.?
?But you?re smart.? Roxi insisted. ?You were always smart! Always reading those books. You have to know of some way to make it... Or at least, fake it.?
?When I went away to the alchemist?s academy across the sea, yes, they had the stuff. It?s ghastly. The reason they mix it into wine is to disguise its horrifying taste, and even then, that didn?t make it that much better. It was really a choice of two evils- You either tasted the acrid trolls blood, or the bitter, raw, alcohol. Of the two of them, the alcohol was less offensive.? Myso explained.
?But it wouldn?t be hard to fabricate a counterfeit, if it just tastes like tar and alcohol.? Roxi guessed.
?Of course not. As a matter of fact, its a bit of a cottage industry for crooked alchemists- They mix up a batch of fake trolls blood, spike some wine with it, and sprinkle in a stimulant like the milk of the Fever Root or the juice of the Hell Blossom fruit to give the customer a little high, and then sell it as the genuine thing. The fool drinks it, feels the spike of energy from the stimulant agent, but it doesn?t last, and it certainly isn?t some kind of elixir of immortality. Quite the opposite actually, fever root and Hell Blossom are quite damaging to your health... But naturally, the charlatan is long gone before the fools realize they?ve been hoodwinked.
?But it can be done.? Roxi asserted.
Myso walked around behind her. He put a hand on her back. ?It can.?
?I need it.? Roxi didn?t turn around.
?How do you intend to pay for it?? She didn?t need to see his teeth to know he was grinning. His hand moved down to her buttocks, she felt him squeeze her posterior.
?My brother says you?re a pervert.? She walked out of his reach, leaving his groping palm clutching empty air.
?Does that repulse you?? The alchemist asked.
?It excites me.? Roxi replied. ?Can you make the charlatan elixir??
?It is simple to make, and I have the ingredients.? Myso answered. ?But they are expensive.?
?What will it cost me?? Roxi played innocent. The working girls had told her once that some perverts enjoyed that.
?Everything.? Myso replied.
?Only everything?? Roxi smiled coyly as she tugged the skirt up her thigh. ?I suppose you had better get to work then.?

There was no grace or discipline in the sniveling alchemist as he went to work, his mind on his prize. Roxi watched as he shuffled about his shop, pulling vials off of shelves, mixing chemicals, leaving the evidence of his work sprawled out on his table. It took him only twenty minutes to concoct the charlatan potion. He poured out half a bottle of wine on the floor, poured the elixir into the remainder, and then corked the bottle, and shook it.

?That?s it.? He slammed it on the table. ?What do you need it for, anyways??
?Don?t ask questions you don?t want to know the answer to.? Roxi replied, and she shrugged out of her dress, peeling it off of her shoulders to reveal her breasts.
Myso didn?t argue. With both hands, he greedily cupped her breasts, groping her hard. He put his mouth right between them on her chest and drank in her womanly musk.
?You?re supposed to kiss a woman first, Myso.? Roxi whispered into his ear. ?It makes her more eager, more apt to perform.?

He wrapped his arms around her and crushed his lips into hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth, breathing her in.

And then... Then his grip slackened. He let go, and he stumbled backward. He realized he had been robbed.

He fell back against the table and braced himself upon it to stay upright, and with a shaky hand smeared the lipstick on his tongue.

?Red Lotus.? He yawned before fainting.

Roxi put her dress back on, and then used a handkerchief to wipe off the makeup and the lip wax. She pawed through the shelves in the back of the alchemist?s shop, and searched for the tiny vial she knew was there, the one with the flower with the petals in the shape of a Death?s Head on it- Nightshade extract, the deadly poison that alchemists and chirurgeons kept to euthanize the ill and the mortally wounded, it killed gently, putting the victim to sleep never to awake.

She uncorked the bottle of charlatan trolls blood wine, poured out glass full of it on Myso to insure that he was well and truly unconscious, and when he did not awake from his drug-induced slumber, she smiled contentedly, and tipped the whole vial of Nightshade into the bottle and recorked it. She returned to her own cottage briefly to change back into her peasant clothes, and then looking up into the moonlight to judge the time, ran outside and made for the north road, where she knew that the Count De Soto?s carriage would have to travel upon to come into town.

She only walked a quarter mile in the dark before the creak of wooden wheels and the rumbling cacophony of hooves rolled away the peace of the moonlit darkness. Waving her arms wildly in the moonlight and standing in the middle of the road, Roxi brought the noble convoy to a halt, the guards pulling in front of the carriage itself to confront her.

?What is the meaning of this?? Their captain shouted down at her from his saddle.
?Murder most foul, my lord! Even now, you travel this road down to certain death!? Roxi screeched. ?The wicked temptress Delia, who has promised the good Count an elixir to soothe his woes, conspired to murder him. I have the proof here, I have stolen her murderous intent.? She explained, producing the bottle of charlatan trolls blood wine.

?I?ll be the judge of that.? A man in fine armor rode forward, whom she knew to be Count De Soto?s son. ?Give the bottle here, girl.?

He took the evidence from her, uncorked it, and sniffed. ?By all the gods of treachery and deceit, the girl speaks the truth! This concoction stinks of deadly Nightshade!? He passed the bottle to the guard captain, and turned his attention back towards Roxi. ?Girl, how did you come about this discovery?? He asked.

?Pray, good sir. My father is dead and I had to turn to skullduggery and thievery to feed myself, having no husband to provide for me, but I was ever a loyal servant to the good Count, who when I was young, gave me a silver coin once in the street out of his own generosity. While about my wicked habits this evening, I eavesdropped on the wicked couple as they conspired, and I learned their plot, and when their evil work was completed, snuck about to steal the proof of their crime! Ride to the alchemist?s shop in town, and you will see Delia?s conspirator redhanded where she left him, her rouge still on his lips, and his tools still out upon his workbench, his vial of Nightshade gone, for he has put all of it into the bottle you hold there!?

?I?ve never heard of such evil against my good father in all of my days.? De Soto?s son grimaced. ?Hickman, take half the retinue and ride forward into town. Peer into this alchemist?s shop- If it as the girl says, then arrest the blackguard, and collect the foul woman Delia as well. I advised my father against consorting with such filth as criminals of her kind, the both of them will hang on the morrow for the evil they have done.?

?Aye, lord!? The guard captain waved some of the soldiers with him, and they galloped down the road.
?If this is true, I owe you a debt of thanks, girl. I will reward your loyalty if your accusations prove meritorious.?
?No, my lord.? Roxi insisted. ?Thank you.?

The moon waxed high in the night, and the silvery gentle light flashed on steel as Lord De Soto?s retinue made their way through the village.

Tomarch staggered outside the cottage into the day, the sun bludgeoning his face. He tried to wipe away his hangover, but his head only throbbed, and he only succeeded in rubbing the matted blood in his hair all over his face. He made a mental note to swear off drinking. And fighting. And sunlight.
There was a commotion in the town square, and Tomarch squinted to see two figures strung up on the gallows in the middle of town, but silhouetted against the piercing light of the morning sun, he could not discern who the condemned were. He saw a carriage parked on the side of the road nearby, and it bore the livery of the House of Count De Soto.

?Its her!? He heard someone scream. ?That little runt! She did this!?
?She tricked me!? The other cried. ?She stole the bottle! The Nightshade! She drugged me!?
?Listen how they slander their accuser.? A man in armor on a fine horse laughed. ?Have you no other alibi than to throw your words back at her that found you out? I have heard enough from these traitors.?

With a gesture, the executioner threw the switch, and the floor dropped out from under the two unfortunates on the gallows, and the traitors spoke no more.
Just then, Roxi extricated herself from the crowd, ran up to him, and threw her arms around his neck.

?Brother!? She smiled. ?You lived through the night!?
?What just happened?? Tomarch asked.
?Don?t ask questions you don?t want the answer to.? Was Roxi?s reply.



MSWord formatting is not happy...

 

Into the Darkness.

Darkness. I hate the dark. Every shadow conceals a lurking menace, a threat. Monsters, maniacs, and ghouls, each created in my own mind, populates every nook and cranny of the catacombs. But every shadow, every side passage, and behind every rock in this cursed death trap has to be checked, and checked again as I make my way through the labyrinth. Just because the last shadow was just a shadow, that doesn't mean that next shadow won't conceal some gibbering horror, just waiting for me to relax my vigilance.

Owain paused, focusing his mind to concentrate on the fleeting sounds around him. An occasional flutter of bats wings; the slow drip of water, gradually building castles of rippled stone one grain at a time over unimaginable eons; the rustle of vermin cockroaches feeding on droppings or the desiccated husks of the dead; the hushed sounds of his own breathing. It was better that than the sound of claws scuttling on stone, or the scrape of a carapace on the wall of creatures, drawn by scent or sound. Creatures, converging for an easy meal.

"Nothing easy about this meal", I muttered to myself. My armor and sword were already encrusted with the ichor of a half dozen encounters so far. "Not eaten quite yet, glad to say." It had been two days since the track I had been following descended into the catacombs, and it had been two hard days, indeed. Although the caves were dark, the darkness wasn't absolute. There were phosphorescent growths and florescent crystals in the walls, and in the larger chambers, the occasional shaft of light through unseen gaps in the stone above. All combined to permit limited visibility. "And fortunately, you can see in the dark better than most, can't you, old boy?", I thought to myself. Nothing like a couple of days in the dark to make you start talking to yourself.

The trail had been difficult to follow, but not impossible. A scuff in the dust, a discarded crust of bread, a thread caught on a sharp crystal, all were sign posts for an experienced tracker, and Owain was very experienced, indeed.

"Experienced", I thought as I softly stalked, eyes on every shadow. "Ancient is more accurate." How long have I been a hunter of men? Too long. Decades long. So many years. So much blood, and death, and pain. Had the light been better, I would more easily have been able to trace the scars of old wounds. "I have more scars than whole skin", I thought. Old scars, old wounds, and old pain.

Of all in the KGB, the Knights of Glory and Beer, I am the oldest by far that remain. Only the King, Jetstar deKGB, has served longer. Served, not ruled, for no one strives more mightily against the chaos than does the King. Who else, however, remains of the old guard? Romeo Montague? I see the Crown Prince in the hall of feasting, but when has he last taken the field in combat? Vuldan Ironhand? He still fights, but with his temper, he has quit the order and rejoined a half dozen times or more. Maybe he will return again soon. A good man in a fight, Vuldan.

"What was that?" Owain stiffened. Fool! Senile old fool. "You'll get yourself killed again, if you don't stop dreaming, idiot", I muttered to myself. What was it? Jumping at shadows again? Dolt!

There it is again. A sound, a moving shadow ahead, just around the next bend. Perhaps my quarry was closer than I thought. I had picked up the trail 3 days ago , at the burned out farmhouse at the forest edge, a day before descending into the underworld. The first body I encountered had been a man in a field, dead from horrific wounds, lying in a pool of his own gore. Dead, but missing his head. Now what? Headhunters? Nothing else of value would be likely from a man in the fields. There was no one alive at the farm house, either, but there was a body. The charred remains of a woman. The man's wife, perhaps. There was a captive or captives, though. The signs were clear. Slavers, perhaps?

Slavers, bandits, renegades, savages, brigands, and deserters, I've fought and killed them all, and had in turn been killed by them as well. Not often lately, but over the years, I have died many times. "What a cursed life we live", I thought. "It's not enough to suffer, struggle, and die, be we must, perforce, suffer, struggle, and die again and again." How many times have I been slain. Fifty? A hundred? No matter. Each time it was the same. Each time it was different. A piercing blade, a crushing blow, or the screaming agony of flames unquenchable, it all ends in darkness and in torment. And it all continues in mists and shadows, groping in the realm of wraiths and spirits. And it begins anew in blinding light and the painful rush of breath as the spirit is clothed again in flesh. "Three score and ten", I thought. "That is our lot. You can live longer, but you can't live shorter. Die too soon, and you just come back". Blade now drawn and walking quietly, I muttered softly, this time aloud, "Truly, the gods are insane".

"So why do I do it? Why do I continue, year after year, decade after decade? Why do I impose this life of toil and torment upon myself". Owain slowed before turning the corner. "You know why", I thought. "You know. All those years ago, fresh off papa's farm? The ambush, remember? You were taken. By a freak. Insane, he was. No matter that you were just a lad. No matter how much you screamed. He made it last, didn't he? For days, he made it last. Never forgot that, did you. Never got over it either. Did you?"

Owain closed his eyes, and exhaled, softly. "No one should die like that," I whispered. "The first death is the hardest, and I was so young. Back in flesh again, I was discovered wandering witless in the forest by a KGB Knight, and the KGB took me in. In time, I joined the ranks of the Knights of Glory and Beer, trained, trained, and trained some more. Sir Owain ab Arawn, Knight Captain of the KGB. All so that no one should die like that, ever again. And yet they die still, don't they? In vain? Have they all died in vain, in spite of it all?"

A noise again! A whimper? More softly than falling dust, Owain rounded the bend, and beheld horror. The passage narrowed just there, and backed into a crevice in the wall huddled a small child, eyes wide and staring. Before him crouched a figure with a blade, kneeling before ... something. A head! Carving off bits of flesh, it was whispering, "One for me. One for you. One for me. One for you," as it took turns putting a bit of flesh, first into it's own mouth, and then into the mouth of the head.

Gods! A freak. An insane aberration, pausing for a meal before dragging his remaining captive off to only the gods know where. But why take the child? Rumors, dark rumors whispered that the freaks would take a child, and over slow years of torment, inflict horror and insanity until there would be two freaks. Perhaps it's how they reproduce!

It's back is to me. Perhaps I can dispatch it quickly. But before I can advance another step, the child's eyes dart to mine, and the freak rises and turns in an instant! I recognize it. Devils in Hell! It is him! The same nightmare visage stared at me, and slavered. The monster that had stalked my nightmares since childhood crouches before me!

I recognize it. I doubt it recognizes me, but it recognizes the sigil emblazoned on my armor. "K G Beeeeeeeeee!", it screams, and its eyes almost glow in anticipation. "You know of us, do you, freak?", I growl. "Looking forward to eating my flesh and wearing my scalp as a trophy, do you? Not today, monster!"

But this is bad. The passage is too narrow here to make good use of my sword, and if the freak closes on me, it won't take it long before its knife finds a joint in my armor. I start to back up into the larger chamber behind me, and as I do, the freak's eyes dart to the child, and it titters maniacally. No good. If I back up, the child dies. Dropping my sword, I draw my dagger and charge!

Gods, the thing is as fast as a snake. It darts, it weaves, it strikes fast as lighting, all the time screaming like a damned thing. Were it not for my armor, I'd be dead a dozen time over in the first few minutes, but the fight is not going well for me. A dagger is not my best weapon, and all my thrusts and slashes hit only empty air. The thing is thin, but is it is made of wire and rawhide, and the muscles that quiver under it's diseased skin are like steel bands. I must end this and quickly.

I barely avoid a slash to the groin when I manage to pin it to the wall with a forearm. I'm not in a position for a thrust, so I smash the pommel of the dagger in the creatures face, shattering most of it's teeth. Howling in pain and fury, it pushes me away with it's legs, and as we disengage, I slash with my dagger, and open a deep wound in the fiends thigh. Blood spurts bright red. I have struck an artery! The creature knows that it is doomed, and now it is more dangerous than ever, and will fight like a fiend from the pit before it dies. It leaps wildly at me, but only impales itself on my dagger. Even so, it wraps it limbs about me, sinks the shattered shards of it's teeth into my cheek as it's fingers grope for my eyes. Desperately, I thrust my dagger upward under it's ribs and twist and turn the blade, seeking the thing's heart. After an eternity, it stiffens, and finally collapses.

Near collapse myself, I thrust the damned thing from me, and lean against the wall. My breath heaves in ragged gulps of air. "I'm getting too old for this", I gasp. Looking up, I see the child, still crouching in the crevice. All through the fight, he never made a sound, but now that the creature lies dead, I can see that hysteria is only a heartbeat away. What must the last few days have been like, in the clutches of a monster like that?

"Boy. Come here, boy", I say softly. "I won't hurt you. I've come to protect you!" At the sound of my voice, I see the hysteria retreat, replaced by utter exhaustion. He starts to cry, and crawling from the crack in the wall, he rushes to me, and I enfold him in my arms as he clings to me, sobbing convulsively.

"There now, lad. You're safe now", I say, feeling helpless myself. "What shall we do with you now?", I think to myself. I will give him to the Chapter Master of the KGB, as I was given, so many years ago, and he will be cared for. Stunned, a thought occurs to me. "Perhaps this is how we reproduce as well", I think. Surprised, I find tears in my eyes as well. Rising, I continue to comfort the boy the best I can. "Not in vain", I say gently. "Not in vain after all."

 

Awakening~

As the gladiators rushed him, he evaded the attacks as if they had been moving in slow motion. One by one he struck the gladiators down. As he turned to face a hunter who was a bit further away, he noticed the spear heading towards him. He flailed wildly with his hands in the air as he leaned back to avoid the spear. It whizzed along his body just inches away from leaving permanent damage, but missed altogether. As it passed he stood back up and jumped to the side while hurling a throwing axe. "No chance", the hunter thought. "That is the last poorly thrown axe from the likes of YOU". The hunter raised another spear and was preparing to throw, but the axe found its target behind the hunter. Darkblade had not been aiming for the hunter, but for the rope around the pillar just off to the side. As the rope snapped free, the beam it was holding was released and it slammed into the hunter. The spear went straight up, and came straight back down. An audible "OOOOOH!" came from the crowd.

Darkblade stood up again and dusted himself off. He approached the noble?s box where the princess sat waiting. As he bowed, she smiled and walked forward. Darkblade stood up and took her by the waist to pull the princess closer to him. "Impressed?", he said as he pulled her in. The princess looked at him and said, "BAAA-AA-AA!". "What??", he though. He held the princess out at arm?s length and stared at her. "BAAAA-AA-AA-AA!"

Daybreak ~

Darkblade awoke to the sounds of a goat outside on a cold, but sunny morning. Slowly he pried one eye half open and looked around. The rays of the sun danced around the small shack. As the goat bleated outside again, both eyes shot open. "I don't have goats!", he thought and simultaneously remembered that he had left his large bag of food outside last night. He jumped out of bed and shot towards the window. "Get out of here you...?, he yelled as he slammed into the shutters with a loud "OOF". Something seemed to be holding them shut. "That's going to leave a mark", he thought as he turned to face the door. His second step was into a puddle of water on the floor. Apparently the morning dew had perspired and fallen through the hole in the roof. "You have to fix that", a voice in the back of his mind said. "I know, I know!? Darkblade yelled as he rushed out the door. He rounded the shack and saw the goat with its head in the bag of large bag of food he had just harvested the night before. "SHOO!", he yelled. The goat took its' head out of the bag and stared blankly, then stuck its head back into the bag to continue eating. Darkblade ran forward to chase the goat off. As his feet hit the cold dirt, his wet feet slipped on the already damp ground. Darkblade shot forward feet first into the goats ribs and landed on his back. The force of the kick sent the goat flying in the opposite direction. It stood up and bleated angrily, then ran off into the forest. The contact with the ground had knocked the wind out of Darkblade, but he forced out a painful "whose... house?". "nice move.. where's your reflexes now?", said the voice. "Oh shut up...?, thought Darkblade as he pulled himself slowly to his feet. He closed the bag and dragged it into the house.

He began to clean himself up a bit and got dressed as best he could. He then began to look for his weapons and armor. "Where are my knives?" he thought as he glanced around. Cursing, he grabbed a small bag of cutlery from the cabinet. He glanced inside only find a few spoons and a fork. "Better than nothing" he thought to himself and tucked them into his belt. He pulled an old bear hide over his shoulders and looked at himself in the dirty mirror. He heard the faint sound of laughter in his mind again. "Seriously... shut up...? he thought.

To the tavern ~

Darkblade closed the door behind him as he began his journey through the forest on his way to the tavern. He peered up at the sun shining through the canopy of the trees and smiled. "At least it's a nice day" he thought as he stretched his arms upwards. "You can leave them there, mate" a rough voice said. Darkblade froze on the spot with his arms up and glanced around. At first glance he was not able to see anyone, but then he saw movement in a bush and recognized that a small but very muscle-bound man was aiming an arrow at him. "Do I know you?" Darkblade said. The robber responded, "Nah, just a routine robbery, mate. Now if you don't mind, would you kindly remove your weapons belt and... Is that a spoon?" "Yes" Darkblade said as he dropped the belt to the ground, "someone already took my knives.. or I lost them. I'm still not sure at this point." Darkblade said and raised his hands again. The robber eased his span on the short bow and put the arrow back in his quiver. He stood up slowly and approached Darkblade carefully, then pat him down to make sure he was not carrying anything else. After he was certain that Darkblade posed no threat to him he relaxed, "I hate to ask, but can I have that fork? I have a knife and spoon already, but bent my fork a few days back." Darkblade thought a few seconds, and then handed over the fork. "I guess it doesn't really matter if I carry a spoon or a fork. Neither seems to be helping me as it were." The robber then walked off into the forest as if nothing had happened at all.

Darkblade continued along the path to the tavern. After a short while he could already smell the scent of the venison that was being cooked in the fireplace. As he smiled to himself, he imagined eating a large steak and downing it with a bottle of beer. "So the day is off to a bad start. That doesn't mean the whole day is ruined" he thought to himself.

An unlikely encounter ~

As Darkblade entered the tavern, the smell of freshly cooked food mingled with the smell of fresh tobacco. He closed his eyes, raised his head and drew in a deep breath.. and tripped over a stool. As he picked himself up, he saw a very portly dwarf sitting in the corner enjoying a huge plate of mutton. If the girth of a dwarf is a sign of their wealth, this particular dwarf surely ruled half of the known world.

Next to the dwarf sat a person of medium-average build. He was wearing a robe of sorts and appeared to be trying to set a candle on fire. Darkblade introduced himself to the two and asked if a seat was free. They motioned for him to take a seat, and small talk followed:
"how much are you going to eat anyways?"
"Well I'm almost full, but I'll be done eating before you manage to light that candle"
*gestures with his hands at the candle furiously*
"I'll get it right, just watch"
*both Darkblade and the dwarf stare at the candle*
*gestures at the candle slowly with both hands*
"Are you trying to seduce it?"
"No.. alright?.. It's magic.... wise-ass"
*gestures at the candle again, then produces a small wooden sliver from his pocket and ignites it on the end of his staff. He then uses it to light the candle and spreads his arms demonstratively*
"Magic"
"That wasn't magic"
*tavern guest in the background* "Is someone burning sulphur?"
"SHUT UP!"
"So you do this for a living? How long have you been practicing?"
"Well I dabble every now and then"
"You have been dabbling eight years"
"It hasn't been eight years!"
"You're right, it's been eight and a half next month."
".. come on man. Really, stop it's not funny anymore"
*mutters something and continues eating*
"You don't look like a mage"
"Well you don't look like a... what do you do for a living?" *peers at Darkblades' belt* "Spoonthrower??"
"Now who is being a wise-ass?"
"I like him already."
"Shut UP!"
"He's only stating the obvious."
"Fine.. I'll let it slide this time. Can I get a spoon?"

"I suppose" said Darkblade and pulled an old bent spoon out of the belt. The mage stared down at his soup and reached out his hand to take the spoon. As the mage touched the spoon, Darkblades hair stood on end. "Hey that was pretty cool. Can you do that again?", he said. "Do what?" replied the mage, "I just want to eat some soup. What?s so cool about that?" Darkblade shrugged and dismissed the incident as yet another random insanity this day seemed to be so full of.

Check Please ~

While the trio was busy eating and bragging about prior adventures (most of which were highly unlikely) a group of Lumberjacks who had obviously been drinking too much began to harass the waitress and other guests in the pub. They were becoming louder and more obnoxious with each passing moment. "There lass, why don't ye come home with me tonight? I'll show ye a good time", bellowed one of the drunken patrons. Darkblade stood up and walked calmly over to the table where the unruly guests sat. "Pardon me, but I am trying to enjoy my meal and the level of noise coming from this general area of the tavern is beginning to make it impossible to.." Darkblade was cut off in mid-sentence by another drunken lumberjack. "'Ere lads, we've been too loud for the spoonthrower!", he yelled and the group of drunks once again roared with laughter. Darkblade kept his composure and stood up. He paused once and glanced at the lumberjacks, then began to walk back to his table. The lumberjacks roared again and one yelled "Where's the wench gone to now? How does one get service in this shite tavern!?". The sentence was followed by a loud, hollowed metallic *WHANG* and a dead silence during which the sound of a spoon falling to the floor could be heard. As the lumberjack realized that someone had just hurled a large metal spoon into the back of his head, he slumped forward face-first unconscious onto the table. His comrades turned silently to look at Darkblade.

Darkblade glanced quickly over his shoulder to his companions and said in a low voice, "watch my back". The mage smiled and the dwarf nodded briefly and began eating again. Darkblade turned back to the lumberjacks and silently counted them. *one.. five two.. twenty-six three.. eighteen* It seemed the voice always chimed in when least appropriate. The fourth lumberjack was still unconscious on the table. "I tried to reason with you, but you wouldn't listen. Now I'm TELLING you to leave." The lumberjacks stood up and staggered towards Darkblade. What happened next could only be described as a flurry of cutlery.. one spoon after the other flew through the air at the lumberjacks. *whang* *bing* *ching* The enraged lumberjacks roared angrily as they were pelted with the spoons. In the background, a guest could be heard yelling "my eye, my eye, dear gods you've hit me in the eye!" The first lumberjack leaned forward and grabbed air as Darkblade sidestepped him. The lumberjack crashed to the tavern floor as the others charged. Darkblade grabbed a beer mug off the nearby table and slammed it into the second lumberjack, then was tackled by the third. As Darkblade struggled to stand up, the first lumberjack had regained his composure and began punching on him. Under the repeated punches Darkblade faintly heard the mage chuckling, followed by a burp from the dwarf. Some help the companions were... Darkblade squirmed his way free and leaped across a table to put some distance between himself and the lumberjacks. He grabbed a hand full of forks from the tavern counter and raised them, preparing another arial assault. The lumberjacks staggered to their feet and then stopped with a look of shock on their faces when they saw Darkblade with his new assortment of weapons. They grabbed their unconscious friend and dragged him out of the tavern in haste.

"Yes, FLEE you fools!", Darkblade yelled after them. As he turned, he realized the bartender was standing behind him with blunderbuss at the ready. "Thanks, but if ye would kindly return to yer seat, I'd be much obliged." he said. Darkblade put the forks back onto the table and began to pick up the spoons that he could still find. He apologized to the tavern guest that had been struck in the eye by a stray spoon.

He sat back at the table with the dwarf and the mage. The dwarf was still eating as if nothing had happened. "Thanks for the help.." he snarled. "Next time at least let me know if you aren't going to assist me when needed." "No problem", said the mage. He looked at the dwarf, who shrugged and continued to eat.

An unexpected turn of events ~

The waitress approached the table with two backpacks. "The fellows you chased off left these here. We took the money they owed us plus some expenses for repairs from what they had left. You can keep the rest." Darkblade nodded and thanked her. He then took the bags and peered inside. Some clothing, some armor, bandages, a very corroded dagger and some basic supplies were in the packs. There was also a few gold coins left. This was an unexpected, but welcome turn of events. Darkblade took an exceptional interest in the dagger. It seemed to have not been used in a very, very long time. It was covered with a dark corrosion or rust or mud. He couldn't tell which at this point really. The dagger needed a very thorough cleaning in order to see what it was exactly. "Ah well", he thought "can't really blame a lumberjack for not taking proper care of a dagger". As he rummaged through the packs, he began to notice that most of the items were covered with the same blackish substance. Some of them were half-cleaned while others were left covered with the substance. As he rubbed the hilt of the dagger, the substance smeared away partially. "This stuff was dug out of the ground somewhere. Look, this seems to be mud, but really oily at the same time. I can't clean these without the proper equipment" he said as he showed the items to the companions.

He summoned the waitress to the table and asked her if she could bring a pitcher of water, a shallow bowl and some soap. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with the items. Darkblade began to clean the dagger. While he cleaned it, he noticed that the blade and hilt were still completely black. When he finished cleaning it, he dried it off, then held it up and tested it's balance with a series of flips and spins. It seemed to be perfectly balanced. He held it at an angle and saw that it reflected no light at all. The dagger was indeed made of a pure black metal or substance. The mage and dwarf had watched him test the knifes balance, and looked at him with a new level of respect. "Have either of you seen a substance like this before?", he asked and held the dagger up. The mage shook his head "no", as did the dwarf. The dwarfs' eyes seemed to tell another story however. He literally stared at the dagger while he ate.

Darkblade placed the dagger in his belt and cleaned the rest of the items thoroughly. When he had finished, he gave the waitress a generous tip for her assistance. "This is for you", he said as he handed over a gold coin.

?So friend?, Darkblade whispered looking up at the dwarf. ?Where have you NOT seen this material before??. The dwarf glimpsed at the mage, who was staring at Darkblade. Slowly the mage nodded and the dwarf whispered ?in the underworld?. As the night passed, the trio sat at the table in candlelight, planning the adventure. As they set out upon their journey, Darkblade asked ?why have I never seen or heard of this place? I grew up here.? The dwarf replied, ?The entrance can only be found by those who know where it is.?
?
After a nights rest, the trio set off towards the hills on the outskirts of the town. They then followed the river into the forest for what seemed like an eternity. As the sun reached its zenith, the dwarf stopped and announced ?we are here?. Looking around, Darkblade was not able to see any sign of a cave. They were standing in a luscious forest near the river. The water was cool and clean, bordered by large solid granite boulders and slabs. All that could be heard was the sound of the woodland creatures and the rushing of the deep waters on the river as it mingled with the stones alongside.

To his amazement, the mage and the dwarf both waded into the cool waters and disappeared underneath one of the massive granite slabs. Darkblade hurried after them and holding his breath, plunged into the cold water, swimming underneath the granite. Just as he thought his lungs would burst, he emerged into a small chamber. The mage and the dwarf pulled Darkblade out of the water onto the stones. He looked up at the iron gate set into the stones.

In the light reflected by the sunlight outside, the secret passage revealed.

?Welcome to the Underworld?

http://www.darkblade.de/sota/tunnelentrance.gif

 

Forsaken Virtue of Resolve?:

The old sage slowly removed the rustic tome from the dusty shelf, "Ahhhhhh....you?re interested in the writings of Zaratos Sotaraz? Well I must say it has been some time since anyone has had an interest in moral perfection. All I ask is that you please return the tome to the shelf when you are finished. Oh and might I point out a section of particular interest. It appears that Zaratos found what may be the resting place of a shrine of great significance?..the lost shrine of Resolution!? The old man somehow opens the tome to the exact page and says, ?Here it is?.and I quote, ?To the north lies a most unnatural cave. A cave with the visage of a skull hewn from the living rock itself! This cave is believed to be an access to the underworld. Within lies a path?..a path that winds deep past the crystal caverns and through the magma pools of lower Durn Mog. It is through my research that I have determined that this path may very well lead to the shrine of Resolution.?? The old man snaps the book shut and says, ?Ah yes the "Quest of Resolution". Do you know that resolution is the firm determination to accomplish what you set out to do? One resolves to seek the shrines enlightenment and then through sheer determination actually does so. Sounds simple right?? The old man?s smile fades and he look at you and says, ?Unfortunately few ever return from the underworld.? He hands you the book and slowly walks away.

 

Tales of the Underworld ? ?Trolling about?

Original Fan Fiction for Shroud of the Avatar by Sir Aartemis d?Turton

Murklin?s fist closed tightly around the smooth moss covered stone that jutted out just far enough from the wall to wrap his fingers around. His was lying flat on his back, with his arms stretched far above his head, unable to see forward more than a few meters. The tunnel ceiling was no more than a half-arm?s length above him and the sides of the cavern twisted and turned so much he felt like a snake slithering along the damp, slippery ground. Murklin?s short build and thin frame worked to his advantage as he arched one shoulder, followed by the other, inching his way slowly towards the end of the tunnel where flecks of a soft orange-yellow light began to trickle in.

?Whatta ya see Lad?? came a gruff call from behind Murklin?s feet. The voice shattered the silence and echoed as it traveled through the small tunnel and past Murklin?s body, ringing off the walls and into his ears.

?By the Gods, Nimmit!? Murklin whispered back, frustration in his winded words, ?I?m almost there, give me a second to see if it opens up over?Bwaaaaaaaah?

Murklin felt a hand grasp upon the back collar of his tunic and in one swift movement he was yanked from the tunnel and lifted high into the air. The emergence of light in short order blinded him temporarily and as his eyes adjusted he found himself twice his height from the ground, staring into the eyes of extremely large, and angry cave troll.

?Filthy, stinkin? humanses? roared the cave troll. ?cawls like rat, sneaks into my home!? it bellowed!

The tunnel truly did open into a wondrous site. They were located on a rough plateau to the southern end of a spacious underground cavern. Phosphorus light reflected off the multi-colored moss and algae lining the cavernous ceiling, and the sound of running water echoed off the walls created a serine, If not therapeutic appeal. There was certainly much to explore, thought Murklin, however, more pressing issues were at hand.

?Good day to you, Master Troll!? Murklin feigned with the best bow he could muster while being strung up as if on a cloak hook.

His response confused the Troll, who wrinkled its brow and scrunched it?s nose, smelling Murklin as if to confirm his identity. It was exactly the break Murklin was looking for. Quickly rotating his arms above his head, Murklin slid out of his oversized tunic and dropped to the ground, somersaulting forward between the cave trolls legs and back onto his feet in perfect position for a blind-side attack. His weapons were quickly in hand, short sword to the left, dagger to the right as he sliced quickly at the back of the troll?s leg attempting to disable its movement.

?Stuppid tricking!? cried the troll as it felt the sting of Murklin?s blades across its skin and it spun to face its attacker. The cave troll was faster then its overland brethren and it caught Murklin off guard with a swinging fist to the side of the body. Murklin heard bones snap as the troll?s fist pounded him square in the ribs and launched him across the cave and into the far wall. His breathing became even more difficult, and he struggled to get to his feet.

?Pound you into the ground, teach you not to come to MY cave? shouted the troll as he quickly approached the prone human, still attempting to shake off the last attack. ?Smash!? bellowed the troll as he backhanded Murklin sending him once again flying across the cave just missing the burning campfire the troll was most likely preparing before it was interrupted. Murklin?s vision was blurred, his sword knocked from his hand as he fell chest first onto the hard dirt ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and knocking what was left of the wind from his body. ?Now you join me for dinner, from inside my food pot! ? screamed the troll as he once again lifted Murklin into the air, this time upside down, dangling from a single leg, coins and baubles falling from his breeches onto the floor below.

Whoosh! Whoosh? Came the sound of arrows swishing past Murklin?s head, narrowly missing him as he felt the wind brush by the back of his neck. The cave troll doubled back, dropping Murklin to the floor as both arrows sunk deep within its chest. Whoosh! Whoosh?came another set of arrows this time striking the troll in the stomach and causing it to keel over in pain.

Nimmit stood at the exit to the tunnel rapidly firing arrow after arrow as fast he could retrieve them from his quiver. As the last arrow struck the cave troll, Nimmit tossed down the etched shortbow and pulled a metal mace from its belt strap and charged the staggered troll. Quickly he closed the distance and using a nearby boulder as step, leapt into the air spinning the mace above his head for added force, bring it down squarely against the trolls head knocking him from his feet. The move unfortunately cost Nimmit his balance as the troll tumbled to the ground, so did the archer, rolling across the dirt and against a large rock, however unharmed.

?Murklin quick! Strike while he?s down!? Nimmit shouted as the nimble Murklin regained his composure and reentered the battle. With the troll off his feet, Murklin?s blades easily dispatched the foe, putting it forever to rest amongst the remains of other less fortunate species who wandered too near to this troll?s ?home?.

Nimmit grasped a hold of the helping hand Murklin put out, and got to his feet dusting off a bit of dirt and grime from the battle. ?Aye lad, now that?s what I?m talkin? about! Adventure and Treasure! This underworld is full of it!? Nimmit said with a boasting smile, his arm going out wide in front of him, gesturing to the wide expanse of the cavern.

?Oh it?s full of something! ? Murklin scoffed, ?but mostly it?s full of your Head up your Arse!? the slender human joked as he tossed a copper coin at Nimmit?s head, ricocheting off his helm and down the plateau into the distance. ?You almost got me killed back there, yelling out like that, you gotta Think down here in the underworld.? Murklin pleaded as he pointed his finger to his head. ?We need different tactics, new plans.?

Murklin thought a minute, ?Did you notice how fast that cave troll was? The overland trolls know nothing of tactics; they just walk around smashing things. Things are different here, this troll learned to adapt to the confined area; it threw me into the wall on purpose. They?ve adapted to this environment and we need to as well!?

Nimmit nodded in agreement, but with a smirk and crack of his knuckles added ?But they fall to our swords just the same, eh my friend? Now how about the treasure, trolls always have some treasure.? Nimmit said as he looked about the nature carved cave indention the troll was using as a home. ?Over there, in the corner, look at that boulder?seem odd to you Lad??

Murklin took a look at the corner boulder, and for sure it was placed there on purpose. Feeling around the boulder it seemed there was an opening behind. ?I can ?. almost fit my hand back there but the boulder is just too close to the wall. We need to move it.?

?Here, wedge your sword back there? Nimmit suggested, ?Pry it free.?

Pushing hard with both their strength, they just could not budge the large the boulder. Clearly the troll?s strength and the boulder together made quite a safe place for its treasure. ?I?m not goin back empty handed Lad.? Nimmit stated, frustration starting to show on his face. ?Got any ideas??

?One idea? Murklin responded, ?but it?s a long shot, I?ve only just learned the technique.

Murklin reached to his belt and pulled a small pouch from it, examining the contents, he smiled, beaming with pride over his preparation for the coming adventure. Murklin closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. He reached out with his mind and touched the magical weave that existed everywhere, even within the depths of the underworld if you knew where to look.

?UUS HUR POR? Murklin recited from memory, and opened his eyes slowly.

?Now aren?t you just full of surprises Master Murklin!? Nimmit exclaimed as he watched the boulder rise to the whim of his friend, high into the air, revealing the opening behind, and the large wooden chest!
?I can?t actually move the boulder, only lift it, so grab that chest out of there quick? Murklin replied.

The chest was big, too big to carry around with them. ?Perhaps we should get this back to town and get your ribs looked at Lad? Nimmit said, suddenly excited to see what wonders they had earned from their fight against the cave troll. ?We?ve had a full day, and now that we know about this place, we can certainly return, and perhaps with more friends.? He smiled.

?Not too many friends Nimmit, the Underworld is certainly bigger then I imagined, but I?m not sure I?m ready to share it with everyone yet.? Murklin replied. ?Let?s just keep it quiet for now. Can you actually *DO* quiet, Nimmit? Or would that be the acme of foolishness??, Murklin laughed.

?I?ll give it my best shot Lad, but some things just have a way of getting out.? Nimmit chuckled as he sized up the large hinged chest and pondered what might be inside.

The adventurers placed a small rune upon the ground and moments later a shimmering portal appeared before them. One hand on the large wooden chest, the other on his own chest, Murklin painfully stepped though the portal with Nimmit heading back to the safety of town. As the portal disappeared into the ground, the glow of the shimmering rift faded away off the walls of the cavernous Underworld. There was much to explore and treasure to find within the caves of this spacious expanse. They knew the danger was great, but for those willing to take the chance, more endless Tales awaited.

 

Bleeding and only vaguely conscious, Jerome dragged himself to the base of the cliff. Jagged rocks cut into the palms of his hands and tore at his skin yet the will to survive pushed the pain to the back of his mind. Above him he heard the deep throaty howl of a wolf. His scent had been caught. There wasn?t much time.

***

Just thirty minutes earlier, Jerome had been hunting the biggest buck he had ever seen. Not only would the meat feed his family for a month, but the hide would bring in much needed money to supplement their meager income. He had stalked the buck for hours, quietly waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his kill. Night had settled in, but a full moon was out, casting a shimmering glow to the hushed forest. Finally, the buck stopped at a small brook to drink. Jerome put himself into position and readied his bow.

Unfortunately, he wasn?t the only one hunting that night?

Just as he drew his arrow back, a dozen giant wolves catapulted out from the trees to his right, their white teeth flashing in the moonlight. The buck didn?t have a chance. The wolves circled the frightened animal for only a moment, then attacked with a viciousness that was terrifying. Their frenzied bodies piled on the buck, ripping chunks of flesh from its dying carcass.

Jerome was in a blind panic. After stumbling back several steps, he turned and fled. There was no time for caution ? he needed speed. He crashed through the underbrush, tree limbs whipping at his face and tearing at his clothes. He broke out of the tree line into a small meadow, dashing through the grass, running faster than a flushed rabbit. Nearing the far side of the open field, he quickly turned his head to see if there was pursuit? and immediately stumbled on a loose rock, twisting his ankle in the process.

Jerome collapsed to the ground and gasped as shooting waves of pain raced up his leg. He rolled to his side and grabbed his foot to stabilize it. As he lay in the tall grass, panting for breath, the pain gradually subsided enough for him to take stock of his surroundings. The forest was deathly quiet, its still silence hiding the terror that lay just out of sight. Then, on the other side of the meadow, Jerome looked with horror as one of the wolves padded stealthily out from the trees, sniffing the air ? hunting.

He had not yet been seen, but the wolf was tracking Jerome?s scent through the grass. It would only be another minute or two before he was discovered. The only option was to make another run for it. Jerome jumped up from the grass, ignoring the pain in his foot, and ran into the forest ahead. The wolf, seeing its fleeing prey in the distance, bounded through the grass, not far behind.

As much as Jerome tried to ignore the pain as he ran, it slowed him down too much. He stumbled every other step, and the initial rush from the adrenaline was fading. He wasn?t going to escape. His doubts were confirmed when his run was cut short by the edge of a cliff, a steep embankment with the bottom hundreds of feet below. He turned around to face his pursuer.

The wolf, knowing the hunt was over, casually stepped out of the trees, its lips pulled back in a snarl like a mocking smile. Jerome looked frantically for anything that he could use as a weapon, but only pine needles and pebbles littered the ground. He looked into the wolf?s black eyes, aware that death was only moments away. Then, he turned and flung himself over the cliff.

***

When Jerome came to, he was in bad shape. He had no recollection of the fall, and only vaguely remembered the flight from the wolf. Blood matted his hair on the side of his head, hundreds of cuts, scrapes, and gashes covered his body, and his right leg couldn?t move. His head reeling from the shock of the fall, Jerome looked for a place to hide.

He pulled himself up into a sitting position and tried to drag himself to the base of the cliff. Sharp rocks cut at his open wounds and blood seemed to seep from every pore of his body. The pain was almost unbearable. Looking around he saw a dark fissure in the rocks. Perhaps an entrance to a cave? A howl from far above gave him a burst of energy and he slowly pulled himself to the crack in the side of the cliff.

It was a cave, but he couldn?t tell how far back it went. He was moving now on the strength of sheer will, forcing his body to not give in to fatigue. He clambered into the opening of the cave, the darkness of its distant reaches looming in front of him. Once he was inside, his body finally gave out on him. The darkness of the cave overwhelmed his senses, and sleep welcomed him like a lover?s embrace.

***

In and out of consciousness?
Strong but gentle arms lifting him? carrying him?
?Rest, now??
Cool water to his lips?
?Safe??
Soft caresses, like a mother?s touch?
?Heal??
?Sleep??
And he slept.

***

Jerome woke up drowsily, as if he were coming out of a long afternoon nap. He yawned, stretched, blinked. He lay for a few moments in complete and utter peace. The fog of sleep slowly parted then awareness came back in a thick rush. Where was he? He sat up quickly. It took a moment, but with surprise he noticed that he was completely healed. There wasn?t a scratch on his body. He moved his arms, his legs. Everything moved fluidly and painlessly. What had happened? Who helped him?

Jerome looked around at where he lay, and it was even more amazing than his miraculous healing. He wasn?t just inside the entrance to the cave ? he was deep within its walls. Far above, a hole to the outside let in a sliver of moonlight, and its beam was refracted off the sides of the cavern walls a thousandfold, magnifying it until everything was bathed in a shimmering warm light. The cave walls glistened like molten bronze, with stalactites hanging like golden drops of liquid metal. The gentle sound of rushing water echoed in the expanse, and a slow moving stream, formed from the union of hundreds of dripping pools of water, snaked lazily off into the distance. Stalagmites burst from the cavern floor like protective sentries, posted at every turn, guarding and protecting those who came within to see such wonders.

It was an amazing sight, and Jerome caught his breath in the presence of such sublime beauty. He stood up, determined to discover who had helped him and what other secrets this underworld would hold?

 

Andreas Zerndl: The purple flower - A Tale of the Underworld

Greetings my young friend,
Today I?m going to tell you a story of the underworld. Not just any one story, but a story about a little purple flower, blooming only, when the sunrays shine through the cracked walls of the underworld caverns after a clear night. Twenty years have passed now, and it was such a clear night, when the Avatar visited our village the last time, the year before you were born.

It were darker times then: We managed to stay out of the big war and lived a peaceful live, but a plague infested our village, after a travelling merchant came through on his way to the city. He died in the same night he arrived, and so did many women, men and children after him.

Our village healer was the first one, who got ill and died a week after the merchant. In our despair, we sent a group of young men to the city for help, but none of them returned. The forest, that encloses our village and seems so quiet and peaceful today, was a dangerous place then. Deserters, brigands and other men of low worth banded together during the war and were on the loose in the woods.

We tried everything to contain the plague, we stayed in our houses, barricaded everything and isolated ourselves from the others. But nothing helped. Whenever we thought it was over, another men became infected and died.

We lost all hope, until one day a stranger came to the city, a tall men with hair black as the night, but with the clearest blue eyes I?ve ever seen. Off course we didn?t see him first, because we lay hidden in our houses, but later he stayed some time and told me about his adventures and the reason, he came through. But that is story, I?m going to tell you another time.

Where was I? Ah yes, we barricaded ourselves in our houses and one night, after the sun went down, we heard steps outside. As soon as we were sure, it were human steps and not goblins or other kinds of carrion eaters, we tried to warn him and shouted out of our houses: ?Go away! You will only find death in here!?. We weren't afraid of brigands, because they knew of our illness and stayed far away from us.

But the stranger didn't leave, because he felt pity for us. He saw the corpses of our people laying over another, when we no longer dared to bury or burn them, because everyone who touched a sick fellow citizen got infected, too. Everyone except the stranger outside our houses. He never told us his name. He said, he was the Avatar and came from a place far away and was here to restore the virtues.

Today everyone knows about the virtues, but not then. We were frightened to death and told him to go away or he?ll be doomed, too. But the Avatar had already encountered this plague on his travels. It was no usual plague, but a magic illness. I don?t know, where the merchant got it. Maybe he betrayed a gypsy once and because of this she cursed him with the magic plague. But we will never know for sure and at this time, it didn't matter, because the merchant was dead and left no traces to his past, but the plague was quite alive and killed day for day our people, until only forty were left.

The Avatar didn't loose any time, he walked to the town square and shouted in a voice so clear and loud, that everyone was able to listen: ?People of the village!? - he didn't know the name of our little village yet - ?I am familiar with the plague, that has befallen you. I?m going to help you, but unfortunately it will take some time. Don?t despair! I will come back!? And so he left and we continued waiting in our houses, since no one dared to go outside.

You want to know, what happened then? Well, the Avatar knew, what he was looking for. He needed the nectar of a particular purple flower named Pulsatilla, that only blooms in Underworld. It?s a marvelous flower. A small pouch of it is enough to brew enough antidote for a whole city. But the Underworld is not simply a cavern system, it?s a whole world underneath the earth. It criss-crosses through the whole country and goes miles deep into the earth. Nobody has yet discovered the ground of it and nobody has seen all the wonders and terrors, that are waiting down there. There are stories of an empire of winged horned demons down in the depth, of a strange serpent cult, that tries to bring balance to the world, of beasts of indescribable horror and of inconceivable treasures.

But the only thing the Avatar was looking for was the flower. And he needed to hurry, because nearly all villagers were ill by now. The problem is, entrances to the Underworld are very rare and well hidden. Even the oldest villagers didn't know, that there was a secret entrance in the forest at all. The Avatar knew many entrances, but this one was even hidden to him. He has heard about it, but he had no time for a long search. So he took a risk.

Not many years ago, there were still some bandits in the forest, that lived their whole live in the woods. Most of them were deserters, that had fled from the battlefields of the big war and many were simple farmers and villagers, that were driven from their land. But some bandits lived their whole live in the forest and knew every rock of it. And one of them was their leader, Andrew the Bear, named after an incident with a bear, but the opinions differ, what exactly happened to the bear and with whom. He was strong and dangerous to his enemies, but also cunning and intelligent. Otherwise he would have never became leader of the bandits.

This was the man, the Avatar was looking for, but he had to careful. The bandits of the woods were cautious and harsh fellows, that always feared an attack through one of the fighting armies. But since the Avatar spent a long time travelling through woods and going to adventures, he found the bandit camp with ease. Since he didn't have much time, he walked right to the front gates with his hands over his head as a sign of surrender. The bandits were surprised at the sight of the Avatar, because no stranger had found them for a long time, but they immediately took him prisoner and brought him before the Bear, to await his judgement.

The Bear has heard of the Avatar before and asked him, what he is doing here. He knew that the Avatar wasn't here to kill him, because then, the Avatar wouldn't have come alone, but with soldiers of the Army of New Britannia. The Avatar didn't tell him about the village and the plague, because the bandits would have killed every person, that has contacted an infected person immediately. So he told Andrew, that he is looking for the entrance to the Underworld, because he has urgent business to do there. In exchange he would convince Lord British, king of New Britannia, to leave the bandits alone, as long as they promise, not to attack villages and farmers, that are under the protection of New Britannia.

The Bear knew, that he could trust the Avatar, but many of his companions, that deserted from the New Britannian Army, were reluctant and weren't convinced. So, the Avatar left them one of his most valuable treasures, an amulet in form of an Ankh. It is said that Andrew, who ended his bandit live after the war and lived as a protector of the forest afterwards, has worn this amulet till his last days and was buried with it. There are other stories, too, that claim, the amulet has turned Andrew into a bear after his death and he still protects the borders of our forest. But those assertions are highly unlikely, if you ask me.

Andrew told the Avatar, where the entrance was hidden, and the bandits let him go. The Avatar stood to his word and the bandits were never bothered again by the army of New Britannia. And at the same time Lord British took the villagers under his protection, to prevent them from being raided by the bandits.

Now with the knowledge of the entrance, the Avatar went there immediately. The bandits had concealed the entrance well, so they could hide themselves down there in the case of an emergency. But they were lucky, that they never had to flee inside. For another creature has made himself a home inside already, a troll, twice as big as a man and triple as strong. This monster inhabited the entrance of the Underworld and he left it only, when he was looking for pray, like the poor fellows, that were sent to find a cure for the plague.

You may have heard stories about dumb and ugly trolls. Those are wrong. Many people that tried to outwit a troll found themselves in a cooking pot short time after that. This particular troll was extremely careful and cleaned nearly all traces of his raids in the forest. Even the Avatar didn't sense him, when he entered the cavern system of the Underworld. And so the troll was almost capable of ambushing him, as he catched sight of the torchlight of our hero.

The troll swung an enormous club, that would surely have crushed the head and body of the Avatar, if he hasn't jumped to the side at the last moment. The club cracked the stone under the Avatar, but now our hero had enough time to draw his sword and prepare himself for the next attack of the troll. Trolls don?t talk, they don?t mock their enemies, they don?t need to roar to strike fear into someone. The mere presence of a troll is enough to paralyze nearly all of his enemies. You can?t parry a strike from a troll, regardless if he wears a weapon or not, and if you try to block him with a shield, he will smash it with one hit and your arm with it. The Avatar has fought trolls before, but this one was one of the strongest, he ever met alone.

The second attack of the troll was a swing to the side. The Avatar ducked under it, but he wasn't able to dodge the kick, that followed. Fortunately the kick wasn't very strong, since most of the trolls power was in the swing attack, but it was sufficient to hurl the Avatar against the cavern wall. Our hero managed to hold to his weapon and dodged the following attack by the troll, who swung his club with full force against the cavern wall behind the Avatar. This gave our hero the chance for a counter attack and he wielded his sword in a big arc upwards. He hit the troll at the neck, but the strike wasn't strong enough, to hurt the monster badly.

However the troll felt the blood below his throat and knew, this was not one of the many humans, he fought before. He became more careful with his attacks and began to revolve around the Avatar, who was just as much looking for a chance to strike against him. Then the troll attacked again swinging his club over his shoulder in a downward movement to the other side. The Avatar jumped backwards, dodged the club and this time he was able to roll sidewards to escape the trolls kick. While the troll stabilized himself, the avatar got up and rammed his sword into the trolls side. This was the first time after many years, that the troll was roaring, but this time it was a roar out of pain. His club dropped to the ground, but not the troll. Twisted in pain he tried to grab the Avatar, to smash him with his fists, but our hero pulled his sword out of him, dodged again under the arms of the troll and this time, he hit and opened the throat of the troll with a mighty blow.

The dying troll crushed on the cavern floor, but the Avatar had no time to look through the trolls treasure. Later he showed it to some villagers and helped them bringing the trolls hoard safely to the village. But now he had to hurry and despite being exhausted from combat, he searched for the flower. It took him till the next morning, until a sunray shined through a crack in the wall near an underground waterfall and showed him the spot, where a single purple flower flourished on a piece of soil. The avatar took a bit of the nectar in a small pouch and some semen of the Pulsatilla with him and went back to the village on the fastest way. The same evening the antidote was ready and all remaining villagers were cured.

We were all endlessly grateful and wanted to reward the Avatar. But he even refused to take something of the trolls hoard, because he wanted to help our village to get over the terrible losses. Instead he brought the wisdom of the virtues to us. The shrine of the purple flower, dedicated to the eight virtues, was built in the year of your birth by our villagers to honor the Avatar and to remind us of the time, when the Avatar saved us from certain doom. It?s the only place in the world, where the Pulsatilla grows outside the Underworld, cultivated through the semen, the Avatar brought to us.

The eight altarpieces, dedicated to the virtues, tell us the story of our salvation. The altar of honesty shows a picture of the Avatar, who kept his word after his promise to the bandits. The altar of compassion shows the Avatar entering the infested village and seeing the corpses of our fellow citizens. The altar of valor shows the fight against the troll in the cave. The altar of justice shows the avatar, after he was brought to Andrew the Bear awaiting his judgement. The altar of sacrifice shows the Ankh shaped amulet, that the Avatar gave to the bandits. The altar of honor shows the Avatar returning with the promised flower. The altar of spirituality shows the Avatar teaching us the virtues and the altar of humility shows the Avatar refusing a reward for his deeds.

Ever since all young women and all young men of our village, reaching the nineteenth year of their life, are sent on a quest for the virtues. When they return, they decide which virtue they want to dedicate their live to. Tomorrow you will leave us for your quest. And when you return, you are going to tell me a story of the virtues. And then, I'm going to tell you more about the Avatar.

The End.

P.S. I have a picture of the flower here, if you want to see it: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4A59u4Pc894/UW0hS7C_qhI/AAAAAAAAGag/wMmfWScFbmA/s1600/IMG_4447-2.jpg