Monday, 8 July 2024

Draconic Shennanigans - Episode 18

 Finally! A new chapter! After an enforced six weeks away I'm finally back to writing Draconic Shennanigans. The party are still bumbling about in the dark but they have come across something rather new. These plant pots are rather more mobile than terracotta usually is.

Chapter Eighteen: Golems in the Glow

 "Lead on oh Goddess of the Thunder-voice," Jeremiah gestured to the last tunnel in the cavern that they had not yet tried.

"Hold you hard there," Thorian looked round from cleaning off his blade, "Goddesses shouldn't be leading the charge you know, that's putting them in danger, that is. After all the next thing we come across might be faster them we are and if Haggis gets a puncture then our Goddess is hardly going to be able to sing properly. We ought to go first, then we're ready to meet any danger."

"I agree, old boy," Ulrich grinned as he put the elven forged blade back in its scabbard, "Those with the sharp edges ought to be at the sharp edge of the action."

"As you wish," Jeremiah grinned and waved them forward, smiling as the goblins crowded along to follow Thorian, chattering around their bigger cousin's feet. "Coming my dear?" He gestured to Kaelin.

"I think I prefer the back of the group," Kaelin's sullen expression also conveyed a heavy dose of active dislike for the fat priest. 

"Of course, my dear," Jeremiah bowed to her, "Far be it for me to prevent sacrificing yourself to let the rest of the team know that there is something black, silent and running like molasses squelching after us, longing to dissolve our boots and the feet inside them."

 Kaelin shuddered at the reminder of the oozing black sludge puddle that had chased them down the tunnel leading to the mushroom cave and glared at him.

"Alright you win," she rolled her eyes and fell into step beside him but jerked her arm away as he reached out to take it, "At least your minions don't smell at the moment." She suppressed a shudder as the Ash Elves with the glowing blue eyes closed in around them. The hairs on her arms stood up straight as she fought down the urge to bolt from the trap. They were just plain freaky, their glowing eyes and slack jaws, the disjointed but somehow synchronized steps. She was just grateful that this time it was the soft flap of leather soles that landed on the stone beneath their feet and not the click-clack of bare bone tap, tap, tapping off of the rock. Glancing back she saw that the blue glow of the kervead building up over the mess they had left on the ledge but so far none of the little bugs were following them, though she doubted that they would take long before they started swarming after the group again, especially with Jeremiah's new toys tagging along. They must be leaving a scent trail half a mile long. She could only hope that they managed a half decent rest stop between then and now. Her stomach was beginning to remind her again just how long it had been since they had breakfast at Black Randle's and the uncomfortable heaviness was beginning to build in the back of her eyes. How long since she'd had a sleep? A whole night of unbroken, uninterrupted, honest to God sleep? It could have been on the ship, or maybe when they had been staying with Elisha. She definitely remembered having a few nights sleep without interruption there. Maybe it was making her soft, being able to remember laying down and sleeping all she wanted but now the day's stresses where beginning to catch up with her and she wasn't sure just how much further she was going to be able to go before it really hit her. Not that she was going to say a thing about that when Jeremiah was stumping along beside her.

With a complete lack of regard for health and safety the goblins bounded up and over the stone bridge that arched over the pathway the King's Special had first entered this cold corner of hell by, crowding across the bridge in a pushing, shoving knot that threatened to send them tumbling of the edge at any second. Some how they made it across without have a casualty but Kaelin had no idea how. She shook her head as she stepped off the bridge herself, gaining the relative safety of the cave opening at the other end. She glanced back again to double check whether or not the kerveads were following them yet and then, on impulse she turned more fully and looked down the stone throat of the void that dominated the center of this cavern. No light glowed in its inky depths and she wasn't sure whether that was reassuring.

"Something interesting, my dear?" Jeremiah enquired.

"Just double checking," Kaelin admitted as she turned away, part of her still wondering just how deep that pit had to be. Then she decided that she really didn't want to know, as long as nothing else crawled up out of it. "Oh, will they be quiet?" she asked in a suppressed hiss, realizing just how far ahead the goblins had traveled and just how clearly she could still hear them, "Are they trying to tell everything down here where we are?"

"My dear Kaelin," Jeremiah smiled as he paced along surrounded by his body guards, "I thought you had already done that with Haggis?"

Kaelin went to snap at him and then clicked her teeth shut. Haggis' penetrating voice probably had traveled far down these tunnels and she'd been playing him in several different locations so it was more than likely she'd let things down here know that they had something intruding on their territories but she wasn't going to given Jeremiah the satisfaction of hearing her admit that. Instead she kicked a stone along in front of her as she clumped forward, mouth set in a more sour line than it usually was, trying not to flinch as the stone closed in around them as they entered yet another tunnel. She just prayed that this one was going to lead them to what ever it was they were supposed to find down here. She was becoming a little tired of going round in circles with no apparent progress.

Despite her misgivings the tunnel was clear of any and all apparent dangers, for which she heard Jeremiah muttering a pray of thanks as they saw the walls open out ahead of them. Then the yelling started as the goblins crowded up to the edge of the opening and the heads of the creatures in the cavern swung round to look at them, great sideways mandibles scissoring and clicking as long bodies reared back, front legs waving as they scented the prey entering their den. The goblins yelled and shrieked but, stuck behind the log jam of their bodies neither Jeremiah nor Kaelin could actually see what the matter was.

"Great!" Kaelin yelled, craning to try and see, "Now what's happening?"

"Pincer bugs! Pincer bugs!" the goblins squeaked, waving various rusty looking blades.

"Fancy centipede leg stew for dinner?" Ulrich called over his shoulder as his elf forged, fae given blades whispered from their scabbards.

"It's Thorian time!" the orc cross breed yelled with glee as his great broad sword swung through the air but the giant centipedes were stunningly unimpressed as they swarmed towards the group from two different directions, mouths gaping wide to bite and tear. It proved to be a serious mistake on their part as Thorian charged forward to meet them. Whooping with glee Thorian swung and the first centipede parted, head and forelimbs flying off to smack against the wall as the rest of its body went into spasm. The second juddered to a halt, a puzzled look crossing its face before it collapsed, yellow ooze spilling from its split carapace.

Ulrich's blades swung in glittering arches, the blue glow of Hat shining off of them to dazzle and confuse the centipede in front of him. It reared back, jaws snapping on empty air and Ulrich's first blow missed. The second did not, bisecting its ugly skull with deft precision. The loss of three of their number did nothing to slow the others down. There again neither did it slow down the goblins, if anything they seemed more determined than ever to do their part.

"Death to the enemies of Goddess of the Thunder-voice!" their leader yelled, "Death! Death! Death!" 

Whooping they dog piled forward into the cavern, meeting the giant bugs with a crash and a lot more enthusiasm than skill, most of their blows going wildly a rye. It was almost a surprise when one of the rusty blades did manage to jab in between two of the chitin plates of the thing's armor. Certainly the centipedes warbling screech sounded surprised, almost shocked, as if it had never expected a creature that should have been prey to be able to bite back.

As the goblins pressed forward, they cleared a small gap between the crush of their bodies and the side of the tunnel mouth. Flicking a finger, Jeremiah directed his Ash elf puppets to plug the breach, giving himself and Kaelin room to step forward behind the press and actually see what was going on. Kaelin immediately lifted Haggis' blow pipe to her lips and began to blow.

"Now my dear," Jeremiah smiled, "I thought we were supposed to be making less noise down here."

Haggis let lose a very sour, off key note. Kaelin glared at Jeremiah and tried again.

The blast that ripped across the cavern, buzzed through Thorian and Ulrich's nerves, burning new energy into their flagging muscles. Thorian threw back his head and roared an orcish war cry at the centipedes crowding closer.

"NAAAARRGH!"

The bugs paused a step but then came on.

Expressionless and glowing eyed, the two puppeted Ash elves that could reach a bug struck out, arms swinging with a mechanical tick-tock rhythm that none the less manage to land a hit on the centipede with the goblin's dagger stuck within its shell. It shrieked as one of its antenna clattered across the floor, yellow goo splashing and trailing through the air as it twisted from side to side. Still shrilling it lunged forward, mandibles scissoring shut with a snap around a goblins neck, neatly snipping it head clear off. For a few second the goblins body continued to hit the centipedes shell with its fist as it twitched and spasmed and then it over balanced and fell beneath the centipedes many legs. The Ash elves fared no better as one of the other centipedes rippled in close and instead of rearing up, bit at leg height, sheering through a puppet's knee joint. As the Ash elf fell it bit again and again, jointing the puppet into quarters more efficiently than a butcher. As it sheered through the elf's neck the glow in its eyes faded and then went out as skeins of light threaded shadow spiraled up from its mouth.

"You do not know when to take a hint," Ulrich observed as he fended off the centipede biting at his face.

With another thunderous battle roar Thorian plunged forward, blade slicing through the air, chopping out deadly, vicious arcs. The first lost a bunch of its legs and then lost its head. The second fell, legs clutching at the rift that split it from chin to half way along its length.

Grinning, with the music of Haggis buzzing through his veins, Ulrich ran towards Thorian's broad back and vaulted up him, balanced on his shoulder's for a moment and then sprang towards the centipede that had not yet come close enough to do battle. Thorian yelled and struck out, only just pulling the blow as he realized that what had clambered up him was not an enemy he had not seen but an overly exuberant Ulrich. There was a rip and a piece of Ulrich's coat fluttered unnoticed to the ground.

Ulrich landed squarely on the centipedes back, gripping with his knees. It reared up, shrilling out a rasping cry and plunged down, throwing itself across the cavern, Ulrich laughing as he hung on to its hard carapace.

"I really don't believe that," Jeremiah shook his head, even as he spun his hands through the air, pulling the light tainted shadows escaping from his mangled puppet towards himself so he could then feed it back into the rest of his puppets as they advanced across the cavern floor, expressionless faces chilling in their mindless purpose. The goblins at their side were much less restrained, screaming and yelling as they swarmed over the nearest centipede, little weapons proving that some times it wasn't size that mattered but sheer, unwavering numbers. High, squeaky voices jabbered and shrieked as little fists punched and punched and punched again, the centipede snapping first one way and then another as the goblins swarmed it under, grizzly crunches sounding out above the din of battle as its struggles became weaker and weaker. Still screeching and yelling, the goblins battered it into the floor until it finally lay still.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, the undead Ash elves advanced on the last two centipedes, weapons rising a falling to a dread, unceasing beat that drummed from reality's counter-point. The centipedes, at last, hesitated, antenna twitching, confused by the smell of so many of their own dead and the fact that the dead flesh in front of them still moved. It wasn't a good time to hesitate.

Thorian crashed into one of them, an avalanche of  battle rage that snapped its foe like an dry twig, while the undead Ash elves closed with the other. Their blades draw back as one. As one they stabbed.

The centipede writhed for a moment, twisting on the impaling blades and then it flopped over and became still. The Ash elves stepped back, faces unchanging as the last notes of Haggis faded away. Kaelin let the blow pipe fall from her mouth as she watch nonplussed as Ulrich went laughing passed.

The last centipede crashed into one stalagmite, turned, lunged and smashed into another. It span, trying to bite the thing on its back, the thing that was digging something sharp and cold, it between its armored plates. It span some more, turned and rippled its length, managing to make the shape of a horse trying to buck its rider off. It lunged and slammed up against a stone pillar again.

"You can break easy or you can break hard!" Ulrich grinned, giving the dagger another prod. The centipede ran straight at the wall and charged up it, legs scratching and scrabbling. Ulrich hung on like a limpet and quite deliberately leaned back until his weight peeled them both off the wall, the centipede whistling like a holed kettle as it fell. It slammed into the floor and squirmed until it managed to rippled itself over on to its many, many feet. It bounded over the cavern and whip turned, Ulrich hung on. It charged up a pillar and threw itself off, Ulrich hung on. It lunged and turned and coiled, Ulrich hung on. It dashed across the cavern, charging full speed at the wall... and miss judged its stopping distance.

There was a solid sounding crack as it head butted the wall, Ulrich leaning back just in time to avoid the same fate but he still hung on. The centipede, wobbled and wove into the center of the cavern and juddered to a halt. Ulrich still hung on. The centipede stopped, its head hanging low and Kaelin was sure that if it could have panted it would have done so.

After a moment, Ulrich sat up straight on the centipede's back.

"There we go," he smiled and patted his new mount, "You see, good people, discipline, time and patience are the great levelers." He nudged the centipede with his heels and tapped it with the fingers of his right hand. It slowly curved to the right. "There are those who would tell you that such a beast could not be tamed, there are those who would tell you that goblins would never try to be something more than little thieves and brigands." The goblins nattered and waved their little weapons in salute as Ulrich rode passed them. "And there are those who would tell you that it is impossible for surface dwellers to survive in the Underworld." The centipede came to a stop at his touch. "And it is precisely that sort of small minded thinking that says that we are nothing and can never be anything more that what we all ready are. Well I say differently, I say we can be as great as we choice to be, I say we can take on anything and everything this place or any other can throw at us and we can win! We can be the greatest heroes that this world as ever seen and when we are finally gone, we will still be for we will be legendary! Who's with me?"

The goblins cheered, jumping up and down. They may not have understood everything Ulrich had said but the fire in his speech had light them up and they were all for it.

"I'd say that is a jolly good idea," Jeremiah said, clapping his hands, "And to make sure that our legends reach the surface again." He spread his fingers and began to chant.

"You do you have to?" Ulrich's look of disgust mirrored Kaelin's.

"You said we should be as great as we choice to be," Jeremiah smiled as the power gathered around his hands, "And I choice to be the greatest at providing us with a few more body guards." Ulrich wasn't sure whether the glow in Jeremiah's eyes was just reflected or whether he was beginning to echo his own creations.

The goblins yelled and fell back as the threads and ropes of light laced shadow squirmed over the floor, trickling down the throats of centipedes that lay unmoving and shattered. Thorian frown, he wasn't entirely sure that he didn't see something in the light, something like faces, or even whole figures. Figures that poured into the cadavers as if they were shrugging on a new set of clothes. For a second, as the nearest centipede reared up, its broken shell still leaking, he looked into its eyes and saw something else looking back at him. Something else that was definitely a meanie, a meanie that wanted to hurt and destroy. Then the moment was gone and the glow settled into the dull minded stare that was usual in Jeremiah's creations. Thorian shivered.

"I don't think your god is very nice," he said to Jeremiah.

"Now my dear Thorian," Jeremiah smiled, "That is hardly a good thing to say about the god that has helped save us more times than I can count. After all, he has provided us with all these extra hands." Jeremiah gestured to the dead eyed Ash Elves and the centipedes that were now ranging themselves beside them.

"Aye, I know," Thorian shifted uncomfortable, "But sometimes people help you out for no good reason. Sometimes they help you out 'cause they want something out of you afterwards and they know you wouldn't give it if they just asked for it. They want to have a chain on you and that's the ones who just use you good feeling for people to muck you up. You're talking about a god. They have all sorts of those scroll things that you put your mark on and then they have you forever, you can't ever say no."

"What you are talking about old boy are contracts," Ulrich interrupted, "Contracts and bargains and deals. Now usually gods don't go in for that sort of thing but with some of the darker gods you have to wonder if there is any difference between them and the other side of the coin."

"Well that is the thing," Jeremiah smiled, "The thing people forget about coins. Yes you have two sides but you also have the edge between them and in that edge, well perhaps you have malevolent gods and caring demons."

"Aye perhaps," Ulrich agreed, "But you have to ask, which one is your god?"

"I'll have you know that the Abbey were firm believers in Father Amater, god of light and creation," Jeremiah bowed.

"Of course they were," Ulrich noted, "But that doesn't tell us who your god is."

"My dear Ulrich, what a thing to suggest," Jeremiah smiled as Hat fluttered down and perched on his miter, "Are you suggesting you suspect me of being a heretic?"

"Suggest nothing," Ulrich said bluntly, "Raising the dead is not part of Amater's preview."

"Ah but does not the holy texts say that all things are possible with Amater?" Jeremiah replied, "That if you have faith enough you can tell the mountains 'go, throw yourselves into the sea and they will do so'?  Next to making mountains move surely reanimating the dead is such a little thing?"

"I think we should give up, Thorian old pal," Ulrich said wryly to the orc crossbreed, "We are never going to get a straight answer out of him and I'm not even sure that I want a clear answer out of him. I'm beginning to wonder if it the sort of stuff that just might break our minds."

"Er, what does that mean?" Thorian asked, scatching an ear, "How can answer be clear? Do you ever have cloudy answers? And how can your mind get broken?"

"When talking to Jeremiah, yes, you most certainly do have cloudy answers," Ulrich smiled as he turned his mount towards the only tunnel that lead out of the cavern, its many, many legs scrapping and scratching over the stone floor, "As for breaking someone's mind - well some get their minds broken by a big event like a war or a disaster, some its lots of little things building up over and over again, until they don't have the strength to bare it any more and some unfortunately have their minds broken quite deliberately by other people who enjoy harming others."

Thorian frowned and then shook his head.

"Sorry, I still don't understand wot you mean," he admitted as he feel into step beside Ulrich.

"Some people go through some stuff that changes them forever," Ulrich tried to explain, "And not in a good way. They lose their trust in other people, they lose their ability to be calm and steady around others or even around themselves, they lose the ability to know danger from safety. Come to think of it - Sweety Rod."

"What about him?" Thorian asked as he had to step forward to stay close to Ulrich but not beside him as the tunnel walls closed in around them. He peered into the gloom ahead. He wasn't sure but there seemed to be light up ahead.

"The way he constantly twitches, the way he's constantly ready to bolt, the way that he freezes up half way through talking to you," Ulrich bent his head to avoid knocking it on a low part of the roof, "There is a man who has seen far too much in far too short a space of a time to cope with it all. Part of me wonders what he's been through, the rest of me says I'd rather not know."

"So what has this to do with Jerry's not telling us what god he's praying to?" Thorian asked over his shoulder, frowning even more than ever. There was definitely light ahead but it wasn't the usual sort of light, it was blue.

"Because sometimes knowledge is enough to break your mind," Ulrich explained, "There are tales of books that wizard's have chained shut or buried in lead caskets in the bottom of the ocean because they were scribbled by mad men and the insanity leaks from them to any who touch them."

"That would certainly explain the fun and games we had back in the mushroom cavern," Kaelin called out from behind them, where she was walking along with the goblins swarming around her feet, "If Jerry," she sniggered, "Has been dabbling around with books penned by the King in Mellow then it is not surprising that he disputes the right to breath without his gods permission. It would also explain why his god doesn't have many followers."

"My dear Kaelin, are you pocking fun at my god?" Jeremiah's face smiled but something unpleasant stirred in the depths of his eyes.

"I don't have to," Kaelin replied, "You did a fine enough job of that yourself when you went all dribbly at the edges. How's the hat dried out?"

"I will have you know that this miter is a badge of office..." Jeremiah began, lifting a hand to his head gear as he stumped along.

"That you stole the very first night I knew you," Kaelin replied, "And people accuse me of being light fingered. At least the only stuff I steal is food and clothing. Anything else is too difficult to get rid of."

The locket knocked against her collar bones in a sharp reminder that she'd taken a few other things from the Wizard's Tower. She rubbed at it.

"Everyone's a critic," she muttered under her breath and then her mouth dropped open as the walls opened out and the light washed over them. It was blue and purple, shining from the great shelves of the bracket fungus that sprouted from the walls around them, the color rippled were bands of darker color passed through the flesh of the fungus. The way was still not wide and seemed to branch, one going to their right and the other straight ahead. Ulrich nudged his mount on wards but Thorian stood and peered into the glow down the right hand way.

"There's something down there," he muttered and stepped forward into the glow.

"My dear Thorian," Jeremiah called, "I really don't think that splitting the party is a good..."

Chittering and chattering the goblins followed their bigger cousin down the side passage, wandering towards whatever it was that had caught Thorian's eye. Jeremiah dropped his hand with a sigh and then gestured to bring his puppets in line to form up around him in a protective huddle.

Thorian stopped short and stared at them. "Well you don't see that everyday of the week," he said after a moment.

The... things slowly turned round to regard him, blocky broad heads swinging ponderously on the ends of their long necks. Their long, bowed legs lifted and stepped with deliberation, each step accompanied by a creaking, cracking sound like potty under stress. They back were great domed humps that seemed to be covered in something that from the distance looked like fur but closer up.

"They've got plants growing out of them," Thorian called out, "They've got all these little plants growing out of their backs." With the noise of crunching, crackling pottery, their long necks stretched out even longer and a snorting blowing noise came from them.

"You're cute," Thorian gave one of them a pat. It turned its head slightly to regard him out of an eye that didn't blink and shone with the light of a well banked fire. The other opened its mouth slowly and exhaled a breath that smelt of deep forest loam and well turned earth. It hung there gaping at him.

"You hungry?" Thorian asked and reached up a hand, "Here you go." He pulled a lump of fungus down and split it apart. The two things creaked and cracked and then closed their beaky mouths over the offerings. They ruminated over the offerings and swallowed with the sound of water going down a wide ceramic drain. They gaped for some more.

"You're so cute," Thorian grinned, "Wish I could keep you." He tipped another chunk of fungus down the waiting mouths.

"I think they would be a little slow there, old boy," Ulrich called as he nudge his mount further along the tunnel he had chosen, "I'm not sure that they would be able to keep up with us. Oh..." He'd nudged the centipede a little further forward and stopped in surprise. Another group of the creatures slowly lifted their heads from whatever they were doing to gaze at him with their almost unnerving gaze. With a creaking, cracking gate, one of them stumped into view from a tunnel a little way further up the right hand wall.

"Er, Thorian," Ulrich called, "Can you see a tunnel any where near you?"

"What do you mean tunnel?" Thorian called back as he continued to pet the pottery creatures., "The cave just curves round to where you are gabbling at me."

"It's not a dividing way," Jeremiah interrupted, "It's a supporting pillar blocking our view. That is one supporting pillar and a half. I wonder how many centuries it took to grow."

"What do yah mean grow," Thorian half turned back, "Stone don't grow you numty. Trees grow, animals grow, even slimes grow but not stone. I thought you were more clever than that."

"I hate to break it to you, my dear Thorian," Jeremiah said through clenched teeth, "But some stones like limestone do grow but very,very slowly, rather like your brain." Thorian didn't raise to the bait so Kaelin elbowed Jeremiah for him.

"Ow!" Jeremiah jerked away from her, "My dear Kaelin, what on Hestia was that for?"

"For you being unpleasant and inconsiderate," Kaelin said flatly, "And yes I do actually know what those words mean."

"I most assuredly know that," Jeremiah smiled, rubbing his side, "But I'm not so sure that our esteemed friend Thorian understands them. Do you Thorian?" Thorian didn't answer, apparently fascinated by something up near the ceiling. "I do say old boy, there is no need to be rude."

"No, no there isn't" Thorian agreed, slowly reaching up for the handle of his sword, "But tell me, is there a need for something large, hairy and with eight legs?"

"No!" Jeremiah snapped, "No there really isn't!"

The spider pounced, its weight and speed nearly bowling Thorian over. The pottery golems creaked and cracked, turning with their ponderous steps to avoid the hairy monstrosity as it closed with Thorian. Thorian roared as he blade flashed in the blue light, the swing arches, too artless to wound, driving the spider back counter clock-wise round the column.

The goblins yelped and yelled as they spotted the dog sized spiders closing in with Thorian's unprotected flank. They threw themselves forward, screeching and punching, some even scrambling up the walls to close with their foes. One spider at the back, apparently smarter than the rest, came to a stop as it witnessed this craziness and then turned and scuttled back into the shadows of the ceiling, disappearing above the layers of bracket fungus. The others closed with the goblins with hunger shining in their eyes.

Ulrich prodded his mount onwards, swinging it round the supporting pillar clock-wise, veering round the pottery golems that shuffled and creaked around him.

"Thorian," he called, "This is no time to be playing with a new pet, we need to get on." The cracking of pottery in high distress sounded behind him. Ulrich turned his head and the dark mass blotted out his vision.

Jeremiah pulled himself up to his full height and grinned, calling on his god's name as he muttered a prayer for destruction and agony. He clicked the fingers of both hands, expecting the embers and sparks to form in the air around his fingers. The light, bright and red in the blue glow, formed... and winked out.

As Thorian's sword crashed into the spider, breaking pieces off, Jeremiah stared at his hands in consternation and clicked his fingers again. The light flared... and died. He clicked his fingers again and again. Each time the light formed and died with little snaps and pops that almost sounded mocking. He looked up even as Haggis roared into life at his side... and one of his own puppetted Ash Elves turned its head and pocked its tongue out. He felt himself go cold as he saw what looked out of its eyes at him. His god had enjoyed the slaughter but he, Jeremiah hadn't taken an active enough hand in it. His god wanted blood to be split in his name by Jeremiah's own hand, not through the hands of his puppets. Jeremiah needed to step into the striking distance but who would haul him out of that fire if it was too close and something struck back. His puppets might but he had already lost one this very day. It suddenly dawned on him just how much he had made his teammates despise him.

Ulrich screamed out of sight.

"Oh Globers!" Jeremiah swore, turned and found his way blocked by the bodies of his own puppets. "Get out of my way!" he snarled, physically pushing them with his hands to try and make them moved faster. With a distressed groan one of the pottery golems nearest the fight between Ulrich the thing that had attacked him shook itself, sending a cloud of sparkling seeds billowing up from its shell. The thing paused for a moment and sneezed but then it bit again.

"Oi!" Thorian roared, "Get off mah friend!" The huge spider turned its head to look at him, making Ulrich cry out again as its fangs dragged in his flesh. It hadn't quite got him in the neck but he hadn't moved fast enough to totally avoid its bite, its venomous teeth dug into the big muscle in his upper arm, the flesh around the puncture wounds already turning dark and oozing. Ulrich's sword clattered against the stone floor and his head flopped forward as his mount bucked and hissed, threatening to crawl out from under him as the spider's column like legs tapped, tapped, tapped around it.

Thorian scrambled up and over the dead back of the first spider, even as the goblins finished pulling apart their foes, waving spider legs above their heads in victory. The huge spider yanked its fangs from Ulrich's arm, letting him drop on to the back of the centipede, where he hung on, eyes half closed in pain as the he started shivering, teeth clattering in his head. Without being told the centipede turned like a string of mine carts on rails and headed for the only viable tunnel out of the cavern, heading further into the maze by pure chance as the way back was most assuredly blocked.

Thorian climbed to the top of the dead arachnid, paused for a second as the behemoth still standing charged towards him and then launched himself into a flying leap towards it. His blade smashed through its head with a crunch that echoed through the cave and he stumbled to a stop on its back as it crashed down on to its deceased twin.

"How is he?" he called down to where Jeremiah was trying to marshal his puppets into following Ulrich as the back end of the centipede disappeared into the tunnel mouth.

"Not sure," Jeremiah panted, "I'm not sure his mount is likely to stop."

"Ah cack," Thorian cussed and slid down the spider's side. His foot landed on something that went clang against the rock below it. He frowned as he looked and then bent to fetch it up. Ulrich's elf made, fae granted blade shone in the fungus light. With a grin he went to follow Jeremiah's sweating bulk into the tunnel. The grin faded as he catch moment out of the corner of his eye. Something was forcing its way out through the gap in the spider's leg joint. Thorian peered closer. The thing opened out two little, rounded leaves and flapped gently at him. Thorian's eyes went wide as he realized that it wasn't the only one, others were forcing their way out though the gaps in the spider's hardened skin and then its hair stirred as the rampant growth forced its way out through its skin.

"We need to go," he said backing up, "We really need to go!" He turned on his heel and dashed for the tunnel.

"Where is Thunder Warrior?" the goblin leader squeaked, gazing in wonder at the mountain of dead spider. Some of his companions were not so restrained, hacking into the mountain with their little knives and claws, pulling lumps and chunks of legs free, chattering with glee. Kaelin was about to turn her nose up and then noticed that the pottery golems were creaking their way closer to the heap, beaky mouths snipping dainty chunks out of the pile. She shrugged, remembering everything down here was a resource for something else. She froze, remembering that everything down here was a resource for something else. Thorian was most definitely right.

"This way," Kaelin called, "Our boy with the centipede horse has managed to get himself injured and we need to be some where else before the..." The blue glow flooded into the cave, a shimmering stream that flooded across the floor. Kaelin slapped them desperately from her legs and the goblins started squeaking as the kervead's broke over them like a wave.

"They bite! They bite!" they howled. Even the stoic pottery golems seemed to be upset by the sudden flood of glaring brightness. First one and then the other, creaked a croaking cry and shook itself, causing clouds of glittering seeds to swell in great dome shapes around them.

"We need to go now!"Kaelin barked, hopping from one foot to the other. The goblins scurried to her, yelping and yipping, slapping the glowing blue bugs from themselves as they ran, a couple sneezing as they went. Some how they made it out for the tsunami of biting, nipping insects, hands slapping at each other as well as themselves as they tried to haul away some they bounty minus the bugs. They gained the shelter of the tunnel with some of the glow still clinging to them. Kaelin slapped the last one on her leg off and watched it bounced away, only to start as a goblin pounced on it.

"What..." she started. The goblin popped it in his... hers... honestly it was difficult to say... mouth and bite down. The glow faded out as she saw the other goblins pull kerveads off of various parts of themselves and their dripping booty and chewed them down like children who had been sprinkled with candies.

"Not all, not all, you ninny hammers," the goblin leader barked, slapping a few over the lug holes and snatching the kerveads out of their fingers. He stalked to the head of the bunch and held the insects up. Kaelin fought to keep her expression neutral as she realized what the little goblin was doing. It really wasn't comforting to see the bugs writhing slowly in his grip, it reminded her too much of maggots on the end of a hook.

Following the faint glow of the bugs held aloft by the goblin, they made their way down the tunnel until a more orange-yellow flickering light took over. The goblin leader peered ahead then, once he was satisfied that the light was true, he stuffed both bugs into his mouth and chewed happy. Kaelin closed her eyes and swallowed at the pop that sounded out.

It wasn't really a cave they found themselves in, more of a wider space where the tunnel bent round a double corner, arching first right and then left. It was wide enough for a small stove to be set up and filled with oil, giving off a warm light and enough heat for Thorian to be setting up a tin mugful of water to boil on its top.

"We need to stop," he said glancing up, his faced worried, "Ulrich isn't good."

"Um," Kaelin looked round and saw the living centipede surrounded by the knot of its reanimated fellows while puppeted Ash Elves stood sentry at the bend in the tunnel. As Kaelin and the goblins stepped in closer, other Ash Elves to up positions at the bend they had just come round.

Then Kaelin saw Ulrich. She put a hand to her mouth.

He was laying on his right side, the sleeve of his tunic cut away to reveal the injury in his upper arm. Muscle tissue should not be black with rot and skin should not ooze green and yellow as it curls back from an injury. Ulrich shivered on the blankets that had been piled up under him, eyes fever bright.

"Oh come on, come on," Jeremiah muttered, hands riffling through his pack, "I'm sure I saw... Ah ha."

He pulled out a box and flicked it open to reveal rank and files of vials, stoppered and labelled. He started lifting them out and popping them back.

"No, no, no. No! Oh come on there has to be something... here!" He pulled one out the full way and popped the stopper out. "Kaelin," he ordered, "Help me with this!" For once she didn't argue with the fat priest, scooting over and helping to roll Ulrich on to his back and hold his head still so Jeremiah could tip the contents of the vial down his throat. Some of the color came back into his face but he was still shaking and the wound in his shoulder seemed no better.

"Its not enough," Jeremiah muttered, "Damn!"

"Should you watch your language?" Kaelin asked, trying to distract herself from the fact that Ulrich appeared to be dying in front of her eyes.

"Seeing as my god is feeling a little temperamental right now and I am about to lose one of our best fights, then I don't really think so," Jeremiah snapped as he dug back into the case of vials. He flicked a look at one and then read it more fully.

"Kaelin, if I hand you the set of small knives I've found in my pack, would you start heating them up in the lamps flame please?" he asked reading the label for the seeond time, "And Thorian, would you come here and hold Ulrich down, please? If needs be lay on him, I just need to be able to reach the injury site."

"What are you up to?" Thorian asked, wrapping a bandage around his own leg, binding a deep gouge that he hadn't noticed taking in the heat of the moment.

"This will work to neutralize the poison but the, to quote, 'corrupted tissue must be exercised first'," Jeremiah looked a little unnerved, "Guess I'm going to have to put some of my training to good use. Never wanted to be involved in the infirmary..." He trailed off.

Wordlessly, Kaelin started holding the small but razor sharp knife blade in the flame of the lamp.

It was unpleasant.

Ulrich screamed a great deal to begin with and then seemed to pass out as chunks and lumps of blackened, gooey tissue was lifted from the hole in his arm, the spider's venom having eaten deeply into the muscle below the skin. After each lump with lifted out, Kaelin dripped a little of the potion into the space just vacated, in between heating knives in the lamp flame. Even one of the goblins was roped into help, holding a thieves lantern to aim the light at the gaping wound so Jeremiah could see what needed to be removed. Kaelin wasn't sure but at one point she was sure that she could see bone gleaming yellow and grey in the depth of the injury. And every drip of potion smoked. Finally Jeremiah sat back on his hunches.

"Right, pour the rest of it in there," He wiped a sleeve over his forehead and poured the mug of hot water over his hands before reaching for the bandages, "I want it well flushed out."

Ulrich jerked and moaned, even in his unconsciousness, as the last of the potion was poured into the hole in his arm.

Jeremiah didn't bother unrolling the first bandage, just pushing the whole roll into the wound end first and then pouring another potion marked 'For Healing' on top of it. He bound the second bandage around Ulrich's upper arm.

"Why'd you do that?" Thorian asked as he sat up from holding Ulrich still, "How's it supposed to heal like that?"

"Its called packing the injury," Jeremiah washed his hands again, "If we don't the skin will heal over the top of the void and leave it to fill up with fluid. After that, well it would be a miracle if it doesn't poison his blood. As it is, I've done everything I know how to do." He put another cup on to boil and sat leaning back against the wall of the tunnel come cave.

After a moment, Kaelin pulled a bread roll out of her pack and handed it to him.

"Here," she said, "Get that into you and then get some rest. Thorian and I will take first watch, make sure those bugs don't come sniffing for Ulrich."

"That is really rather considerate of you, my dear," Jeremiah managed to claw back some of his oily smile.

"Look, I know you only saved his life 'cause you are scared of being left down here without protection if your god decides to leave you high and dry but, well," she gave a one shouldered shrug, "You did good just now so don't push it."

And for once he took a hint and laid down without another word, his rumbling snores soon punctuating the silence. Kaelin stood up and walked to the bend of the tunnel where they had come from, eyes open from any sign of the kervead's blue glow. She looked down as something brushed her hand. The goblin leader looked up at her, sympathy in his eyes.

"You got a name?" she asked.

"Thank you," it said.

"That's your name?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Nah," he shook his head so hard his ears rattled, "Thank you for thinking goblin have name worth knowing. I is Stink of the Midden."

"Wow, cool parents," Kaelin said wryly.

"You mis-under-stand," the goblin said the word with noticeable effort, "Goblin not give name by life givers. Goblin given name by first place he nearly died."

Kaelin didn't say anything else, just took his bony, knobbly, scarred hand and held it as they waited out the long dark of the under ground.

Thursday, 27 June 2024

Hestia Locator - Lotton

 So, with the third missed play session comes the third alternative blog post, this time curtsy of the Hestia Locator, a weighty tome created by the renowned explorer Marcus Poli-Poli and constantly updated by his descendants as they keep up their three times great grandfather's work.

The Encyclopedia of all the observations and information gathered by the clan, all the major public and private libraries have a copy that is updated as new revisions are added. King Tatsuya regularly refers to his own copy to better understand the players in the never ending game of international chess.

Hestia Locator

Lotton


 

Situated in the middle of the southern border Provence of Portasia, Lotton is notable for being situated on the Western shore of the Great Lake. This body of fresh water is one of the largest in the world. Myth would have us believe that it was excavated by the 'Watchers in the Water' to give them an inland strong hold. Legend states that it was formed during the dragon war, went those dragons, mortally wounded in one of their battles, fell from the sky and exploded. Men of science believe that it was formed in a long forgotten era when ice ground its way across the face of the continent and gouged out a deep trench in the softer layers of bedrock, which was larger filled and expanded by water. Men of religion state that it was a gift formed in the days of creation by the gods choosing this as the place to rest from their labors and thus sinking the land with their great weight.

No matter its origin the Great Lake forms a massive reservoir of fresh water so deep that the fishermen who plum its depths have spoken of discovering fish that have white eyes, so use are they to swimming beyond the reach of the light. Taking two days to cross by boat to Nether Wallop at its Eastern end and three to cross North to South, it is only logical that many of the locations near to the lake rely on boats for communication and travel. By these means Lotton has become a transport and trade hub of the region with goods being shipped back and forth across the lake from its docks. 

 Lotton is protected by a curtain wall that embraces three sides of the town, the fourth being open for the docks. The curtain wall is built of sandstone and studded with many guard towers that some times double as extra guard houses for the City Watch. The North side of the town is also protected by the Nayen River that runs within feet of the foundation  stones of the curtain wall. However, there are no  gates in the Northern wall as the attitude of the town council is that anyone with legal business in the town will use either Western Gates that allows entry to the Condessa Road or the docks. As the Dead Swamp on the North side of the River Nayen has an unsavory reputation, this attitude is perfectly understandable. 

The docks stretch from North to South along the lake shore and have no less than three Watch Houses interspersed along that length. Internally the town is divided into four districts. The largest of these is the Warehouse district that back the docks and makes at least a third of the town. Warehouses closest to the center of the town are cheaper to rent but include the inconvenience of shifting the stock to and from the water front.

The North West of third of the town is the Residential District where many merchant princes have their mansions and not a few nobles maintain houses and travel here during the summer months when the heat and scent of the Capital can become rather noxious. These buildings are set back from pleasant, wide paved roads, surrounded by pale walls and landscaped gardens, some with water features, others with the panoramas of other Provenances of the country, or in some cases whole other countries, laid out around them. During the Session many parties, Balls and events are hosted at these residences.

The South West District is more unfortunate than its Northern neighbor. This District is the home of the laborer class in Lotton and unfortunately reflects the lack of care that many laborers face through out their lives. Streets here are narrow, often too small for a horse cart and over shadowed by the upper levels of the houses that crowd in from every side. If the streets were once paved that paving is now buried under decades if not centuries of rubbish and rot. The smell is often over whelming. The houses are themselves in less than optimal condition and there have been several attempts to improve the area but so far nothing has stuck, with efforts being hindered by just how many people are crammed per house and therefore how many would have to be rehoused until repairs could be completed. The buildings are often three storeys high and a whole family, if not two, can be crammed into each storey right up to the attic space, creating a nightmare for the town authorities who fear a fire ripping though the area.

The last district is the Central District and is the smallest, centering on the Town square, a clear space around the Cathedral and bordered by the official buildings of the town, including the Governors Palace, the courthouse, the residences of the town officials and the largest Watch House. The main streets runs from the Central District to the double Western Gate and is lined with most of the shops that actually sell within Lotton. The southern row of these shop/houses are what has been successfully upgraded from the South West District.

 Places of Interest

 Hognail's Wagon and Wheels

 A well appointed shop set in row that separates the twin streets that come from the double gate and well located beside the Watch House of King's row (as it is known). Hognail himself is a sturdy dwarf of middle years, for his people, that has specialized in the ironmongery necessary for the construction of vehicles. Under him are several human partners who are not named on the business sign, for the simple reason that Hognail has out lived several human partners and constantly (in his eyes at least) changing the business name would be a fiddle he's not prepared to deal with. The current business partners are a pair of twins that Hognail sponsored through their apprenticeships in carpentry who handle the wood working side of the business, while Hognail handles the forge. A hard bargainer but his work is always of top quality. Well worth a visit for anyone in need of a new vehicle or who wishes to sell a vehicle. A word of advice, do not try to cheat him, his fist can hit like a thunderbolt and the local Watch is of the opinion that the injuries of someone who tried to cheat Hognail are self inflicted.

 Sweety Rod's Enterprises

 Opposition Hognail's Wagon and Wheels is Sweety Rod's Enterprises, a horse shop of some repute. Sweety Rod himself is a human of a nervous disposition, whose hair seems to have permanently been struck by lightning. Constantly anxious and shy to the point of paralysis, Sweety could be described as having more twitches than a bag full of cats, until he lays his hands on a horse. Once he is dealing with a creature that has fingers for legs all his twitches disappear and he becomes firm and steady, able to state his opinion without tremor or falter.

Not only does he trade in horse but he is also a horse doctor of some noted ability and has managed to save beasts that others would have given up on and left to die. This could be because he hates having to put any horse out of its misery. It is noted that he has had a miniature, spring powered crossbow created for this purpose, which can drop a horse in a fraction of a second without a sound and he is extremely competent when he uses it but his twitches come back worse than ever when he has too. All in all he is a gentle soul, that only bargains hard because he has to have the funds needed to lavish the care he does upon the beasts under his gaze. That and if someone has spent a fair amount of money on the animal then they are unlikely to mistreat it and waste those funds. Expensive but worth every penny as Sweety Rod does not sell dud horses.

The King's Sword Public House

A large Public House and Inn run by the dwarfs Berrum Stonebreaker and his wife Maggun, the King's Sword is reasonable priced and well appointed, with comfortable rooms with proper beds and a chimney system that runs from the kitchen up through the center of the house, spreading the warmth to every room. Berrum handles the tap room and locals have learnt to watch their intake if they are the sort to become rowdy on too much ale as he is perfectly capable of picking up a man many times his size and convince them to leave. Maggun has over sight of the kitchens and also runs a laundry service for those willing to pay. There is also a small suite of bathrooms available for hire and hot water. It is noted that the King's Sword has the cleanest floor, stable yard and front step of any establishment in the town and is probably due to the fact that the bath water has a second use as a solution to scrub down the aforementioned places. Both Berrum and Maggun economize where ever they can to keep the prices down so that the residents of the South West quarter can continue to afford to come in and use their facilities. The only issue with the King's Sword is that Berrum has strong feelings about orcs and orc crossbreeds, having lost many family members in several wars with the mountain clans, though this finally seems to be mellowing in recent years. Definitely worth a stay if you are traveling through.

Dippler's Pie Shop

 A small, weedy, weaselly looking gentleman commonly dressed in a polka dot neck tie and a battered top hat, Dippler started his career as a 'from the tray' vendor of hot pies but has since moved up to owning a premises of his very own, complete with veil fronted counter to keep the flies off of his produce. Featuring both steady recipes and a seasonal menu, Dippler opens earlier and closes late, catering to the less fortunate of the town and visitors passing through with hot and filling pies and pastries, usually freshly cooked and still steaming from the oven. How he manages to keep up such a steady stream of baking while managing to front the shop at the same time is a mystery possibly best left unasked after but no one can argue with the flavors of his produce. He is also a friend of Sweety Rod, possibly the man's only friend and usually the only one who can calm him after a very bad day.

The Battered Bugle

Situated on the southern most end of the water front, the Battered Bugle is an unusual establishment in that it is the only one that serves a beverage of a non-alcoholic nature. Despite this sounding like a crazy business move for a dock side ale-house the Battered Bugle does surprisingly well on the strength of this drink, concocted as it is out of ginger root extract and the juice of Scots Bonnet peppers. Strong enough to strip the lining off your throat, burn your tongue off at the roots and build a bonfire in your stomach, the drink has become the subject of a dock side drinking game as sailors dare each other to drink enough of it to make them spit fire like a dragon.

The Armored Dragon

A larger ship than most that berth in the docks of Lotton, the Armored Dragon started her life on salt water, only coming to the shipping lanes of the Great Lake in recent years as her Captain fancied a retirement that didn't involve him giving up sailing all together. Captain is all the name you will pry out of him and he is as much part of the Armored Dragon as the ship is his. Broad shouldered and quietly spoken, Captain's steel grey eyes look out of a dark, weather beaten face with a unassuming power that makes you want to listen to him. He is never far from his ship and is usually accompanied by his familiar Risk, an albatross of truly immense dimensions that seems to understand more of what people say than one would credit.

Saturday, 15 June 2024

The Grey Clerks Archives - Kaelin

 Well the stream of bad luck with health problems have continued so that we didn't have a game session two weeks ago and we didn't have a game session this week either. It is also why this blog post has been four days late to hit the metaphorical book shelves. This is the thing with having family members who have chronic health issues - the interesting times never end.

Lacking the game session to inspire the next chapter of Draconic Shennanigans I have instead complied some of the paperwork that crosses King Tatsuya's desk, this sample from the Grey Clerks (so called because they are so nondescript that you never notice that they are there, some times until it is too late). King Tatsuya prefers to be the shepherd of the future but that does not mean he is unwilling to be its butcher and will take what ever precautions he feels necessary. After all, if you take enough precautions, you then don't have to take the sort of precautions that others would find... distasteful. It is no wonder he and Hartseer get along, they share a very similar world view.

Saying that, let's drive in.

Person of Interest


Name: Kaelin (last name unknown/ doubtful she has one).

 Age: Unsure, probably early to mid twenties.

Birth place: Greely Creek

Race: Tainted/ Change beast/ puca born

Family: Father: Unknown, Mother: Unknown, Grandfather: Donovan Ratcliff (recent intelligence indicates this maybe an assumed name).

Profession: Career Thief, low tier. Kaelin is more likely to steal a loaf of bread or a pie off of a window sill than try to steal the contents of a safe box. Though she has shown some skills with lock picks and climbing, her level of trust inhibits her from taking things that are hard to pass off in payment for bed, board or clothing as she is unwilling to approach possible fences, fearing betrayal. Could be an asset, if properly trained and equipped, abroad in the capacity of a deniable agent as her paranoia would inhibit her from passing off her discovers to those outside of her handlers.

Location: Of no fixed abode. Kaelin does not seem to currently have a home as such, bedding down in temporary accommodation when she is in inhabited areas. So far her movements seem to have wandered south of the River Nayen that runs between Lotton and Condessa, never staying in a single area for long due her predilection to being light fingered and her lack of skills necessary to gain long term employment.

Skills: Climbing, running, she favors a short sword or dagger in a fight. She does appear to have a spattering of reading and writing and recent events have revealed a talent for the playing of less complicated wind instruments.

Appearance: Kaelin is a skinny youngish woman with pale skin, black hair and usually dark eyes. This can however change as Kaelin is descended in recent generations from bloodlines tainted by werewolf stock. As such she can summon a partial change of form. This is a limited change however, with the most notable features being the growth of lupine jaws and teeth, claws and a change of eye color to wolf yellow. She also demonstrates increased speed, agility and strength during these changes, as well as an over whelming need for a razor. Her change is not limited to the hours of the night and she seems to keep a portion of her mind while changed, able to recognized non-tainted allies in battle and refrain from attacking them. The trade off to these benefits is that she is not as powerful as a full blooded werewolf but as she is able to plan ahead and strategize she is often more affective in a fight.

Her clothes are often dirty and unkempt but are strictly practical - dark trousers, a once white shirt and a green leather jerkin with a hood. Since visiting the Wizard's Tower in the Dead Swamp she has acquired a golden locket that she appears to speak to and a pair of 'climbing gloves' that have added to her skills in scaling the sides of buildings. It is suspected that she liberated several small items as well while she was there. She also obtained a set of bagpipes that she has taken to referring to as Haggis. It appears that this instrument unlocked a buried talent for creating music and maybe of a magical nature, as Kaelin seems to be able to either bolster her allies or intimidate her enemies with her music.

History: What is known for sure of Kaelin's history is that she was born in the area of Greely Creek to a son of the notorious werewolf cult leader Donovan Ratcliff. Whether or not her mother and grandmother were also infected by the werewolf curse is unclear but is most probable due to Ratcliff's quasi-religious views. Ratcliff's cult firmly believes in the 'superiority of nature' and believe themselves to be the embodiment of that superiority, that they are the 'perfect race' and have the divine providence to claim all human land for themselves. They had been building themselves an enclave in Greely Creek and had been raiding into the surrounding area.

Though there was consideration at the time as to whether they could be used to neutralize the 'issue' at the Wizard's Tower, it was ultimately decided that they were just too dangerous to be recruited to the King's Special and were slated to be put down. The difficulties in over coming their defenses were solved when the door was opened from the inside. It is speculated that Kaelin may well have been the one to open the door.

The visit to the Wizard's Tower has revealed a greater possible depth to Kaelin's lineage than was suspected. The painting of one Charlotte Susan Darling recognized a family resemblance to Kaelin and spoke of her cousin, one Don van Ranchiff, who disappeared following an animal attack a month before Charlotte's brother, last heir of the main Darling line, was murdered. Apparently Don van was the sort of boy who scared his mother and earned the disdain of his father due to Don van's cruelty to animals and some nasty incidences involving the servant girls of the Ranchiff estate, not to mention the fact that he terrified his own sister, who had to be sent to a relative of her father's for her health. After the main Darling line was deceased this nervous sister was taken from her family but no communication was sent to them. There was no ransom note or any indication as to who had taken her, to quote "it was like she vanished from the face of Hestia". If this connection can be proved then it would enable the crown to hand back the estates of both the Ranchiff and Darling families to a bloodline descendant. It is the opinion of your agent that Kaelin would be unsuited to regular appearances at court but as a defender of some of the eastern mountain passes she would probably excel, as well as providing a tract of land were the more unusual of your Majesty's subjects could find a home without causing comments. 

Further reports will be sent pending developments.

Tuesday, 28 May 2024

Creature Feature - Komuh (Fluff Muffs)

 Due to our baby sitter being in hospital, there was not play session two weeks ago to inspire another chapter of Draconic Shennanigans so, instead we will have another Creature Feature, this time of the more domesticatable type. What is more, this time I was able to draw and paint(!) a design to go with the fact file this time so we are improving. So on with the show: -

Creature Feature


 

Name: Komuh (also known by their more common name of Fluff Muffs)

Appearance: Komuh are quadrupedal animals about the size of a German Shepherd. They are hoofed and their faces appear some where between that of a small pony and a goat, with large, dewy eyes and long, soft, expressive ears. Their large nostrils are widely spaced and lead back to a large olfactory bulb that is credited with giving them a superb sense of smell. Their lips are soft and their tongues are extremely long, able to fold in their mouths to fit and are often used as basic manipulators, particularly to grasp and draw food into the mouth. However, their most distinguishing feature is their hair, their copious amounts of hair. Indeed, they have been decided as 'perambulating hay stacks'. Each filament is long and covered in the hooks that enable it to be spun into thread. This fiber is know as one of the most sort after fabrics in the galaxy as it is fine, strong, light weight, water and stain resistant, as well as fire resistant and very insulating. Indeed several different forces have standing contracts for the purchase of Komuh wool cloth to be used for cold weather gear and survival supplies. To demonstrate how fine a cloth Komuh wool can be woven into, it is possible to gather a two meter (six and a half foot) wide bolt of Komuh wool and run it through a medium build man's wedding ring. The only disadvantage of Komuh wool is its resistance to accepting any sort of dye, restricting the color range to what naturally occurs. The most common colors are dove grey and dove pink. The rarer and therefore more expensive colors are white and very occasional black. The rarest of the rare is the iridescent dove turquoise, seen in only about one in a thousand. Royal Komuh as they are know, have long been associated with almost divine blessings and are usually kept by either noble families or the ultra-rich, unless the trait spontaneously arises in an unassociated bloodline.

They also molt, continuously. Komuh molt only once a year, for three hundred and sixty five days. It is a necessity of anyone who owns a Komuh to brush them, vigorously, every day. However, seeing as good quality Komuh wool sells for twenty pounds (twenty five point five dollars) per kilo in its raw state, keeping a well cared for Komuh can be something of a money mill.

For those worried by the prospect of mistreatment of Komuh in pursuit of profit, they should bare in mind that Komuh are not as defenseless as they appear. Not only are they ridiculously sure footed, able to scale mountain sides that would be considered suicidal by any right thinking creature, they can also scream - they can scream at one hundred and twenty five decibels. Considering that one hundred and fifty decibels is all it takes to rupture the human ear drum then it is understandable as to why the scream of a distressed Komuh has been known to scramble code the central nervous systems of more delicate or sensitive beings. They also possess an organ in the throat similar to the one that cats use to purr on both intake and outtake of breath, only in the case of a Komuh they use it to scream on both the intake and outtake of breath, resulting in an unending barrage of sound that can rupture soft tissues that are exposed for too long.

Habitat: The Komuh is an unusual being in that it only truly thrives when in partnership with an unrelated species. It is believed that this is an evolutionary adaptation rooted in deep history. It appears that the Komuh was evolving at the same time that an avian super predator was roaming the skies. These 'Thunderbirds' would on occasion snatch Komuh to feed to their young, however, if the Komuh was left alive in the nest it would 'clean up' any debris and act as a living heat pad for the young birds. As such the young in such nests had a higher survival rate, especially as young birds shared many predators with the Komuh, resulting in the Komuh's using their screams to either drive the predators away or alerting the adult birds that all was not well at home. Over centuries this became a symbiotic relationship and has lead to a trait that has continued in the Komuhs even after their original partner went extinct due to environmental pressures. It appears that they have had the fortune to continue to find species that are willing to partner with them down the millennia, resulting in their continued existence. As they are now partnered with sentient species their numbers have blossomed as never before.

In their modern, domesticated form the Komuh are known as affectionate pets and excellent guardians of children. They bound fantastically well with their family unit and are known to hum when contented, a sound that has a beneficial effect on at least the human nervous system, lowering stress and physical stress markers while simultaneously increasing brain activity and the systems for the regulation of inflammation. Further studies are being conducted to discover whether they have a similar effect on other races. Feeding them is easy as they consume kitchen scraps without complaint as well as weeds and will graze down lawns. If anything controlling their eating is the issue and you do not want a bored Komuh in your house as it will start chewing on anything, up to and including the walls. A basic feed to ensure a balanced intake of essential vitamins and minerals is advised but is more of a supplement to their general grazing.

Training is advisable but fairly easy if the time is dedicated to the initial effort. Brushing is utterly essential to avoid a house carpeted with shed fur. However, many civilizations have a purchasing scheme for Komuh fur, in recognition of just how valuable it is.

Food source and Hunting tactics (if any): Komuh are perfect omnivorous scavengers. They possess the full range of dentistry in their mouths and every tooth grows throughout their lifetimes, although the canine teeth do grow at a slower rate, particularly in the females. In male Komuh, the canines grow at a faster pace, in particular during the mating season when they can reach proportions close to what would be considered sabre teeth. These fangs can then be used in utterly vicious battles for the breeding rights. A male Komuh in musk has to be handled with both care and precautions.

Outside of the breeding season, Komuh can and will eat anything, the only substance known to be totally impervious to their efforts is metal. Given enough time they have been known to grind their way through ceramics. Vegetable, animal and mineral are all necessary parts of their diets, although their digestion can handle wood only poorly. Bones are completely essential, not only as a major part of the resources that going into producing their hair but also to wear down their ever growing teeth. Indeed Komuh are one of the few creatures where it is perfectly safe to give them cooked chicken bones as they grind everything they eat to powder before swallowing. However, it should be noted that plastic is NOT a viable food source as it is known to be poisonous to them.

Status: Domesticated. The Komuh is a benign and indeed, often beneficial to their owners. Many worlds have breeding facilities and run schemes where those without employment and those in need, such as the disabled, veterans and the mentally distressed, are granted passes to go and brush the resident Komuh and are granted permission to sell the fur they gather to authorized collection points as an alternative to a handout benefit system. The affection and hum of contented Komuh have a stabilizing effect on those with emotional difficulties and regular contact with Komuh is know to have a beneficial affect on health.

Tuesday, 14 May 2024

Draconnic Shennanigans - Episode 17

Chapter Seventeen: Isty Bitsy Spider

 "If the entertainment has been to your satisfaction perhaps we can be moving on?" Jeremiah asked as he swung his pack back on to his back. He looked around the cave they had found themselves in. It wasn't as big as some of the caverns they had through recently and compared to the glitz and glamour of the mushroom cave it was outright dull.  The walls, what he could see of them were nothing but brown rock, water worn and runneled by the trickle of water since time out of mind. In the dark water dripped and plopped in unseen pools, the plink plink of droplets dripping from the ceiling to hammer fall on the ever growing piles of limestone below building the slow counter point. Jeremiah squinted into the dark. Really he should be able to see more than this. He turned round, looking for Hat. The zombie-fied moth lay on the floor, twitching and quivering, its antenna fluttering as its normal blue glow fought for control with a burnish golden emanation that was circulating in its system. It stretched out fully on the ground and rubbed at its head with its front legs, a look of true misery filling its eyes.

"Hat! Here!" Jeremiah jabbed a finger at the point of his miter. The miserable moth shook and rattled for a moment more and then the the golden glow was pushed down by some Herculean effort and Hat took off, wobbled through the air and landed on Jeremiah's Hat. Kaelin's head snapped round and her eyes fixed on the ceiling, ears flicked forward to hone in on something she'd heard.

"What is it?" Ulrich asked.

 "I'm not sure," Kaelin muttered, ears twitching.

"Hat? Fetch!" Jeremiah instructed. The giant moth drooped for a moment but the gold was fading more and more from its system. With a buzz that could only be a sigh, it lifted off from Jeremiah's miter and buzzed up towards the ceiling, looping through the dripping stalactites, its glow shining off of all the damp surfaces, casting a blue sheen over the damp rock except one stalactites refused to glow. Its sides were a dull rocky crust that seemed out of place in the wetly gleaming cave. Kaelin swayed from side to side, frowning as the change of angle made her brain know that there was something wrong with that particular stalactite but could quite bring what it was into full focus of her fore brain.

Then the blunt tip of the stalactite opened into a mouth and bit at Hat. The moth dropped in the air as panic sent its wing beat completely off of rhythm, the rocky things fangs clashing together once again just behind it.

"What's that?" Thorian asked, frowning as the 'stalactite' shifted, dropping it full cameo of rocky texture, the branching buttresses rock of its base becoming tentacles that crept and oozed across the surface of the rock.

"I think that is what they call a Cave Octopod," Ulrich suggested, "Risgath's book mentioned them as one of the native predators of the Underworld. Might be related to octopi but there is debate about that."

"Never mind that!" Kaelin snapped, "How do the bleeding things hunt?"

"Usually by trying to drop upon the heads of their prey... Jeremiah step back right now!" Ulrich snapped. The Octopod bunched its tentacles. Jeremiah grinned and didn't move, muttering something that could have been a pray, or not, as he clenched his hand.

The octopod dropped. The jet of embers and sparks roared up, meeting it coming down. Kaelin wasn't sure is the pained whistling noise was its scream or whether it was the pressure release as the things super heated fluids boiled within its skin. It burst on the floor when it landed, smelling like boiled oysters. Kaelin gagged on it.

"Um," Thorian looked at the roof of the cave, "I don't think that can be good." Other shapes were shifting in the shadows of the ceiling, squeezing and squashing between the arches and groins of rock.

 "Time to leave!" Ulrich stated and with one eye on the ceiling he began to run across the cave floor towards the only other entrance visible in the gloom.

 "It's Thorian time!" the orc crossbreed bellowed with a grin, his sword whistling as it left the scabbard. If that was the signal the other squelchy, soft bodied things dropped from the ceiling, bouncing the right way up as they landed. They bounced shocking well, Kaelin having to duck as one came flying towards her. Hat buzzed and fluttered away after Ulrich, apparently deciding that he had the best idea of the lot. Jeremiah opened his mouth to snap at the glowing insect and then, as a cave octopod bounced towards him, tentacles lashing through the air behind it, he thought better of it and set off after Hat, huffing as his boots slapped over the damp stone.

Kaelin leapt away from a group of the bouncing, buffeting things, blowing into Haggis as she did so, aware that the flabby balls of nastiness were closing in on her from all sides. They would have almost been comical, with their bouncing gait and the noise they made, which Kaelin could only liken to the sound of an underinflated football being kicked about, but the snapping, gnashing teeth at one end totally destroyed her desire to laugh. Those fangs were far too big and nasty to be funny.  The circle closed in.

Haggis' blast echoed and hummed through the dark, making the stalactites ring and the shadows shiver. The bouncing, closing noose disintegrated as the cave octopods leapt in every way possible, scattered by the sound, the buzzing thrum of Haggis' music a sensation that they had never had to experience before.

Whooping Thorian perused them, blade sheering through bulgy bodies like a bat through an over ripe pumpkin, sending splatters arching into the air. Several had the misfortune of bouncing into Ulrich's path. Blades glittering, Ulrich didn't slow, making it to the arch way of their exit, leaving quivering masses in his trail. Jeremiah grimaced as his foot came down in one of the unfortunate piles, the noise truly dreadful and the smell was even worse.

"If you have just ruined my shoes..." he grumbled as he passed Ulrich.

"I would have thought those boots of yours need replacing after all the spiders that have gnawed on them," Ulrich smiled, blade striking out to dissect an octopod that didn't get the memo that this dinner wasn't worth the price.

"Yes, well," Jeremiah grouched, "There is such a thing as standards."

"Well if you could leaned a hand here," Ulrich flicked the tip of his swords through another pair of attacking octopods, keeping the line of retreat open for Kaelin and Thorian, "That would be a much higher standard than these things have. But of course, if the great and wise Jeremiah is just too tired to aid a friend in need, then I'm sure that his god wouldn't mind him missing out on a moment or two of distruction."

Jeremiah frowned at Ulrich, sure that he was taking the frack out of him but the reminder that his god wasn't overly happy with him at the moment made him draw himself up and spread his hands wide, muttering a pray for destruction and terror upon the enemies before him. The shadows clawed and writhed up off the floor and out of the gaps between the stalagmites, croaking and groaning like souls in torment, come to gather the damned. The octopods squealed and leapt even higher, bouncing off of the stone around them as they stopped trying to direct where they were going, merely trying to leap away from the horrors that shrieked and billowed after them.

Thorian was whooping and laughing in the middle of the cavern, sword blurring through the air in huge, sweeping arches that sent pieces of octopods flying in all directions. However, none of the others seemed to be able to realize that they should just give up trying to claim this food source and concentrate on the carrion that was now littering the floor and in some places the walls.

Kaelin ducked again as another sludgy ball of bad attitude sailed biting past her ear. She drew in another huge breath and blew. Haggis bellowed and even Jeremiah felt the chill lick up his spine. He stumbled back several paces before he managed to make his legs lock in place. The octopods went into a frenzy, bouncing and leaping away from things that were not even there.

With a final sweep, Thorian dispatched the last of the octopods near him and looked round. The last three octopods were bouncing away between the stacks of dribbled stone, soft, floppy noise the most flatulent retreat ever.

"That was a nice little fight," he grinned and cleaned his sword. As he went to put it back in its scabbard he paused. "What's this?"

Pale blue lights were drifting across the ceiling and the walls, swarming and billowing like skeins of snow in a blizzard. Jeremiah hopped back as a stream of them came scuttling over the floor but the lights parted round his boots and flowed on, piling up on the remains of the octopods, clustering around even the smears of fluids on the floor.

Kaelin stared as the lights piled up and thickened on the floor, their glow ever increasing until it rose up their legs, even while the source stayed trailing and running like water. Taking a risk she leaned down to stare at them even closer.

"They're some sort of bug," she observed, "Their heads are glowing. Rather like fireflies but it's their heads that are glowing not their butts. They also don't have wings. Any idea if they are dangerous?"

"Give me a moment," Ulrich called and fished out the book Risgath had given them. He thumbed through it, the growing light bright enough to read by now if he tilted the book in the right direction. Hat buzzed back to Jeremiah's miter, apparently aggrieved that he was not longer the brightest thing in the room.

"Ah here it is," Ulrich called, "They are kervead, a type of bug which appears to form the bottom of the food chain in the Underworld. They are scavengers and will usually avoid healthy individuals but it is not a good idea to make camps near were there have been large numbers of casualties or injuries in a recent time as they have been known to... burrow into open wounds and they will try to... gain entry into sleeping bodies if something has attracted them in large numbers to an area. The illustrations are fairly graphic." He looked slightly nauseated.

Kaelin sidled her way over to his elbow and peered at the books pages.

"Um," she observed, "Well I've never seen that bone before. Just out of interest and while you have that book to hand, any idea what those pillars of living stone were, you know the ones that tried to turn us into lunch earlier."

"Oh them," Ulrich flicker a few pages over, "Lashers, immobile ambush predators that once they take root can no longer move so they grow those long, whip like tentacles to ensnare prey and drew it within reach of those teeth. According to this they are why the Ash Elves never travel in anything less than a dozen, a single person on their own have no chance against a lasher and as a small group we are still at risk of being taken out by them. Apparently we have been lucky so far as they are usually planted in larger groups than we have come across so far."

"What does all that mean?" Thorian asked scratching his head, frowning, not shifting his feet as the kerveads flowed over his boots and away to get at the food source he had provided.

"It means that if you trip over now these bugs will try to crawl up you nose to make a nest inside your overly spacious skull," Jeremiah called out, his tone not overly pleasant. Ulrich snapped the book shut and turned, ready to throw it at the savage priest but he didn't get that far.

"Oh!" Thorian's eyes went wide, "They like big heads!" He held his arms out and lifted his foot with extreme caution. "I suppose this," he lift his other foot with equal caution, "If the trouble of being such a big guy," he lifted a foot again and set it down with immense care, "Someone always fancies a part of you." He stepped and stepped again, sweating with the effort of not falling over, "Though I still don't understand why those pretty ladies back in big city were asking about my marrow. I don't even like vegetables." He looked up to see their expressions. "What?"

"Where you by any chance in a street where the houses had red lanterns outside their doors?" Jeremiah wasn't able to quite suppress a grin.

"No," Thorian frowned, then brightened, "There was a red candle in the window though."

"That explains it then," Jeremiah turned away with a grin.

"What?" Thorian kept stepping with extreme care until he was out of the shifting, rippling tide, "Explains what?"

"We'll tell you later," Kaelin promised as she stepped up beside them and then they turned to the tunnel to discover that this time Jeremiah had decided to take point, striding down the throat of stone and leaving them to trail in his wake.

"Unlike you to be first into the breach," Ulrich observed as he tucked the book away.

"As you so kindly informed us, these things have a habit of crawling inside wounds," Jeremiah didn't stop, "And I happen to have wounded boots. I just don't fancy having some of these things nibbling at my toes."

"Someone has a thing about bugs," Kaelin muttered as she followed Ulrich into the darker tunnel.

"We may have to remember this fact in future," Ulrich winked over his shoulder at her, "In case our esteemed friend needs to have a lesson or two in humility."

"Not spiders though," Kaelin observed, "He doesn't have a problem with spiders."

"You are quite right there," Ulrich nodded as they bimbled along at Jeremiah's pace, "I have to admit I'd very nearly forgotten about the giant spider he'd had as a pet for a while."

"I hadn't," Thorian shuddered, "It had a hole in its head."

They had all by then recognized the issue with allowing Jeremiah to lead, left by his own devices the priest did not go much faster than an amble, which was rather frustrating when they wished to get on with the day. If nothing else, the memory of the breakfast they had shared with Black Randle was beginning to fade but none of them thought that eating some where that the kerveads were swarming would be a sensible idea. Questions about whether they were going to make to any where today, or even next week, simple dripped off of Jeremiah like water off of a well greased pig and hints that picking up the pace might be a good idea also seemed to have no effect.

Ulrich's patience ran out at last and he tried to barge his way passed Jeremiah with barely a muttered 'excuse me'. Turned out to be a mistake as the priest simply stepped into the way of Ulrich's attempts, bouncing him backwards off of his bulk. However, Jeremiah did not have it all his own way. Ulrich may have acted like a ball being bounced off of a wall but their collision did make Jeremiah stumble slightly, pushing him forward with more than his usual speed. There was a grunt and a soft sound, not unlike the clap of cupped hands and Jeremiah juddered to a halt.

After a moment he wiggled.

A moment after that he wriggled.

After that he writhed.

"Um," he muttered, "Um." He tried breathing in. He tried breathing out. He tried sucking in his girth, which as he didn't have a waist as such but rather more of an equator, didn't help that much.

"Ah," he stopped struggling, "I appear to be stuck." Kaelin sniggered.

"That is all very well," Jeremiah observed, "But unless you wish to take a trip back through the mushroom cave, I suggest you find a way of getting me unstuck."

"Well I suppose we could all just sit here and wait until he thins down enough to become unstuck," Ulrich grinned.

"How long do you think that would take?" Kaelin asked, rubbing her chin, "Couple of months?"

"Oh at least," Ulrich nodded, "Maybe more, maybe less."

Jeremiah growled and fought with the pinch of the rock around him.

"Only problem is that the kerveads would probably smell him long before then and come looking," Kaelin noted, "Now having a couple of dozen of them wriggle up his nose and other possible places, might make him thin down a lot quicker but we would rather be in the way of the kerveads passing though and it sounds like they don't distinguish that well between the trapped and the still mobile. What would happen if we squashed any of them?"

"You would have just painted yourself with a food source and drawn them to you," Ulrich noted.

"And I take it that they would just keep coming, no matter how many you crushed?" Kaelin asked.

"If anything the more you crushed the more would be drawn to you," Ulrich had a quick flick through the book.

"Um," Kaelin rubbed her chin again, "By the sounds of it a war of attrition and not one we could win. So that's not an option. Do you have any butter on you?"

"I am not a lobster!" Jeeremiah exclaimed.

"Unfortunately not," Ulrich ignored him, "Nor any lard, which would have been more appropriate."

Jeremiah growled and wriggled again, muttering swear words and curses. It was not helped by the fact that he could suddenly sense a deep and abiding pleasure at this scene. His own god was looking on and was highly amused by the events. He clamped his lips shut. Now that he had seen his God in all his glory he dared not antagonize him.

"So what to do?" Ulrich muttered, going up behind Jeremiah and leaning back on him as if he was the most well cushioned public leaning post ever, "Can't wait it out, can't butter him up, if we pull him out we'll just have the same problem all over again. Do you have any ideas Thorian?"

Thorian stratched behind an ear for a moment and then he grinned.

"We could try orc magic!" he suggested.

"Oh no!" Jeremiah yelled, "Not that!"

"Oh go on," Kaelin asked, eyes bright, "Tell us more?"

"It goes something like this," Thorian grinned and walked up to the now frantically wriggling Jeremiah, "Righteous boot to butt!"

The blow landed like a thunderclap and Jeremiah, with a tearing sound and a pop like a cork, shot forward down the tunnel, landing in a very undignified heap in the dust. After a moment he started standing up and then stopped.

"My dear Jeremiah," Ulrich grinned, "Is there a problem with your sudden freedom?"

"No, no, everything is fine absolutely fine," Jeremiah's smile seemed only the tiniest smidgen fake as he straightened fully, "But I am afraid that I am going to have to send the tailor's bill to you Thorian as your excessive use of force and total lack of tack have rather render my trousers more airier than they were prior to this moment."

"Er, what does he mean?" Thorian turned to Kaelin in his confusion.

"You ripped his trousers," Kaelin rolled her eyes, folding her arms around Haggis.

"Er," Thorian scratched his head again, "Sorry, you still lost me. What are trousers?"

"Seriously?" Kaelin blinked at him, "You're wearing a pair."

"I am?" Thorian now looked a little worried, finding out that he was wearing a piece of clothing that he had no idea he was dressed in. He started looking about himself, craning his neck to try and check over his shoulder.

"On your legs!" Kaelin exclaimed in exasperation, "Seriously man!"

"Oh you mean mah draws!" Thorian brightened in dawning understanding, "Oh, so that means I've put a hole in his..."

"Yes spare us the details please," Ulrich shuddered, mental images that he did not want to play host to trying to creep in via his imagination. That was the problem of having a very active imagination, sometimes he didn't like what it was imagining.

"My dear Ulrich," Jeremiah smiled, "I was unaware that you found such a little thing as distressed clothing upsetting. I'm sure that we will all make the effort to make sure we do not mention it again. Or could it be that you are uncomfortable with something else? Do you have a little secret that you would like to tell us?"

"You know something, I do have a fair number of skeletons locked in my cupboard," Ulrich's look had gone very flat and cold, "Would you like to know what they are?"

"Oh tell me more," Jeremiah grinned.

"Well, so sorry and all that, old bean," Ulrich suddenly smiled, "But I keep my cupboard locked so you can't. Life can be so full of disappointments, can't it?"

"It can indeed," Jeremiah grimaced, "It can indeed." He turned and started leading the way down the dusty throat of stone again but this time he stepped it out a little more willingly, so at least he had learnt from that mistake. It was still uncomfortably narrow, the rough walls catching at sleeve and pack, making Kaelin hug Haggis even closer.

The opening out of the tunnel was so sudden and unexpected that they stumbled into the cavern before they realized it. The ceiling arched high, the path curved away from them down to their right with two possible paths bending away down to a very recognizable area. Ulrich looked to his left and saw the path way arch up and over a bridge leading to the third exit of the cavern. He looked back to the right and saw a tall pillar of rock look at them with one red eye and then snap said eye shut again and try to be still so hard that it actually vibrated, whimpering quietly to itself.

"We've been going in circles!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the large space.

"A circle, a circle," Jeremiah corrected, "It is important to keep these things in perspective, My dear Ulrich."

"Perspective?" Ulrich asked in a dangerously flat and controlled voice, "Perspective? Perspective. Alright, let's try perspective-ing this." He rounded on Jeremiah, "We have spent hours traipsing around a corner of the most dangerous environment on this world, making so much noise I am surprised that we haven't wakened this dead, in fact, we did wake the dead, though where you're magic managed to find them I don't know because usual the scavengers in this place render down even the bones. So we have been announcing to everyone and their mothers that we are here pocking our noses in where they shouldn't be, we have killed several dozen things, had hallucinogenic spores invade our minds and leave us with the gods only know what long term effects and we are no closer to finding out what the hell is the problem down here and we are certainly have no clue about how to fix it, especially as, being male, the Ash elves are more likely to kill us on sight than listen to a word we damn well say. On top of that we have no idea if there is a safe space any where around here to have a rest break. Tell me, have I left out anything in your perspective?"

Jeremiah didn't say a thing, just glared in sullen anger.

"Didn't think so," Ulrich turned his back on him and walked away. Behind him, Jeremiah straightened and putting his hands together, started muttering what should have been a pray but sounded more like a curse. Kaelin's ear twitched back as she followed Ulrich but her attention was focused else where as they stepped on to the wider part of the walk way, where the two possible paths rejoined. Something twitched in her periphery vision and she turned her head. Something was trailing across the ground something that was slithering like a serpent towards...

"Look out!" she yelled and lunged forward, knocking Ulrich over but also rolling them out of the way of the tentacle that whip cracked through the space Ulrich had been in a second later.

"You lot again?" Thorian grinned as he drew his sword, "You lot don't learn, do yah?"

Jeremiah went to step back but then something brushed across the back of his knees. With a yell he jumped forward and as if that was the signal the eyes opened up. Great blinking, red orbs that glared with a hunger and desperation that left the soul cold and then the rest opened up their eyes.

"Oh squit," Kaelin muttered, kneeling, trapped in the circle of predators that had no respect for a fellow carnivore, the lashing, hissing tentacles swaying from side to side as they reared high over head.

"Whoop!" Thorian laughed and lashed out at the one nearest him, sending half a dozen tentacles arching away, twitching and flopping, some of them tumbling over the edge into the lightless depths below. The lasher howled, mouth stretching wide as the one planted beside it struck out, trying to wrap its tendrils around Thorian's sword and arms. "Oy! Get off!"

Jeremiah drew himself up, prayers to his darksome god, chants of death, destruction and desolation, spilling from his lips. The shadows creaked and groaned, hideous moaning that were, at once, both the expression of pain and the cause of even more pain, as the things that were both shadows and something else crawled up out of the dark spaces, their overlong, spindle fingers leaving prints of nightmare on any surface they touched.

Kaelin felt her jaws creak and crack as her other nature jumped forward without permission, instinct seizing her body as her rational mind screamed in terror. There was just something about the shadow forms, lanky, disproportionate anatomy, unstable bodies made of shadow and spite, eyes, where she could see eyes, sightless white orbs that were brim full of a void, bereft of any soul or meaning. They were dead center of the uncanny valley and their manifestation made her want to shriek like a banshee. Locking her teeth together did no good, denied that expression, her terror whip corded back on itself and took control of her body, the change savagely painful after so long being denied and with such a driving force behind it.

Ulrich danced in a web of tendrils and tentacles, twin swords flicking beams of light around the cavern as he ducked and wove through the lashing cracking maze of death. Every time the lashers tried to lay hold of him wasn't where he had been a second before and he punished every failure to grasp him with the sharp edge of bitter, elf forged steel. The lashers screamed and shrieked, shorn off limps tumbling and twitching across the ground in a tangled mass of pain and thick, dark blood, their central columns quivering with agony and rage. They were not used to food that fought back so ferociously and with such success. Bared, backwards curving fangs gnashed and clashed as their eyes popped and goggled with rage at this spinning, swinging, dancing thing that sang as it cut and scored them with its sharp and deadly steel claws.

Thorian stumbled but kept his feet as he was drawn ever closer to the pair of lashers that had hold of his arms and sword. They had failed to grasp his legs, too busy fighting the shadow beings that Jeremiah had summoned, even through their attacks passed through those creaking, groaning masses without result but that was all good, as far as Thorian was concerned. He fought on the end of their cords, tugging and lunging but they relentlessly drew him in. He fought, sweating and grunting as he struggled to keep away from them. There was a malevolent glee in their eyes as he came close, tongues flicking around stone dark lips as he came within breathing space of them.

Then Thorian grinned.

For a second the lashers hesitated, unbalanced by a prey that seemed to quiet enjoy the prospect of being eaten and then Thorian braced himself against their grip and jumped, planting one foot on each of them.

"My turn!" he bellowed and with a heave that could have shifted the world, he wrenched backwards. The lashers screamed as their tentacles tore out at their roots, rock like skin splintering with the popping bangs that preceded a landslide. Dark fluid splashed across stone, one of them collapsing in on itself as it breathed one last rattling sigh. The other, however, was not quite done, one last tentacle still attached, despite its mighty wrenching and it snapped tight, yanking Thorian towards its waiting maw, a raw sound cry of hunger billowing up from inside its throat. Thorian rolled and as it snapped at him he plunged his sword between its crashing teeth. With one last guttural noise it gagged on his blade and was still. Thorian stood, struggling out of the entwining tentacles.

Kaelin shrieked, instinct finally winning out over terror and she threw herself at the closest lasher. Ulrich took a step back as she smashed into it was a bestial sounding roar. The lasher screamed as her claws found its eye. It screamed again, whipping at her and then the great red globe pulled out with a thick sucking sound. Kaelin smashed the orb into the lasher's gaping maw and then slammed both fists down on the top of its conical peak. Not only did the top of its head collapse under the blow, its teeth also snapped together.

"Oh steady on," Ulrich back away with a look of distaste as Kaelin hauled on the remaining whipping tentacles as the lasher choked and throttled. Kaelin's claws drove into the bleeding roots of the tentacles and then she strained, muscles in her face, neck and back rippling as the lashers creaked and screamed. With the noise of tearing meat, it came apart from its base and toppled into the dark beyond the edge of the path, howling as it vanished into the inky depths. Kaelin's roar of victory did not sound like a wolf to Ulrich, more like the great maned cat one of his father's friends had kept in a cage on his land. He cut out the other lasher almost without thought as it reached for him, his focus more on Kaelin as she shook and trembled, the blooded beast beginning to recede from her eyes as Jeremiah's little pets began to crawl back to whatever plain of horror they had come from, sliding into non animated shadows and finally falling silent.

With a whoop of joy, Thorian jumped across the cavern and carved through the last two lashers with a single sweep of his sword.

"How's that?" he yelled with glee.

"Pretty good," Ulrich observed, "If you keep up the practicing, you might one day be as good as me." It was easier to tease Thorian than admit that Kaelin had scared him, she had scared him good. He had almost been joking when he had said to Black Randle about her having some blistering anger manage issues but he had forgotten just how scary it could be when she lost control. Reflecting on it, he released that she hadn't lost control since they had left the Wizard's tower and he realized that he had somehow come to the conclusion that she was better now, that she was in control and the wolf wouldn't be an issue any more. It looked as if he had been horribly, dangerously wrong. The wolf in her was still very much there and it had resented all the time she had managed to kept it on a leash, building up its anger and its rage to the point that it had taken only the right trigger point to let it out of its cage, ready to rip and tear.

"Oy!" Thorian pouted, "Who was it who just took out four of those buggers? How many did you manage? Just the two!"

"That is true but if you hadn't been lucky then you would have wound up dead when those two caught you," Ulrich flicked his sword tip towards where the managed stumps slumped in the shadows.

"Luck nothing," Thorian argued, "That was skill."

"I would have to beg to differ on that score," Jeremiah argued, stepping up, "If it wasn't for the intervention of my god then they would have been able to wrap you up piecemeal and divide you out."

Thorian frowned for a moment and then shrugged.

"Yeah, alright, I guess those noisy burgers you called up did keep them busy," he admitted, "Thanks for that my old chum!"

He slapped Jeremiah on the back so hard the priest stumbled and coughed.

"Yes well, happy to be of service and all that," he gasped, slightly winded. Ulrich had already turned away.

Kaelin was knelt on the edge of their stony perch, shaking and gasping quietly.

Ulrich knelt down beside her and took hold of her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked and then shook himself, "No, that was a stupid question; are you going to be okay?"

She managed something that might have been a proto smile under other circumstances and brushed the hair back from her face.

"Not... not right now I'm not," she admitted and then grimaced at the fact that she'd just smeared goo into her hair, "But later, maybe later. Just haven't had a moment... a moment like that for a while, rather took me by surprise."

"I have to admit that those lasher things are not pleasant foes to face," Ulrich smiled at her, almost surprised that she had confessed that much to him.

"It wasn't... wasn't them," Kaelin shuddered as she admitted it, "It was those other things, the ones Jeremiah called up. Gods." She shuddered again. "I don't know what they are but they... they... they are horrors."

"I have to admit that I found them more than a little... off putting," Ulrich admitted, "I have to admit, I do seriously wonder what god our friend is worshiping because said god doesn't appear to be the one usually worshiped at that abbey."

"He has a book," Kaelin said quietly, "It's what he stole that night at the abbey. There was an alarm charm attached to it so they didn't want... Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ulrich frowned and then his gaze was drawn to the edge of the black abyss they were by. Kaelin was on her feet and backing away, eyes fixed to the edge and Ulrich followed her.

"What's up?" Thorian asked, tilting his head over when he saw their behavior, then he sniffed. "Can you smell that?" he asked Jeremiah.

"I..." Jeremiah opened his mouth to give a cutting reply but the words died on his tongue.

Some thing, something thick but sharply pointed, with two clawed black toes came up and gripped the edge of the rocky shelf then far along, impossible far along, another reared out of the dark to grip and strain.

Hat buzzed off of Jeremiah's miter and did a series of impossible loops, thrumming with panic.

"Hat!" Jeremiah snapped as the darkness crowded in, threatening to swallow them, "Come back here!"

The moth juddered, instinct fighting with instruction but it hovered a little lower, giving them just enough light to see the cluster of great, hairy limbs at the edge had multiplied to a number not designed to comfort.

"Oh, that's not good," Thorian pulled his sword from its scabbard as the multi-jointed, clawed, black legs strained.

"Oh good sir, what thing a say," a light, melodious voice purred in the shadows. A head rose out of the shadows, crowned with a mane of long white hair that fell around the shoulders in a fetching manner. The eyes sparkled, the lips full and pouting as she laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them in a most delightful manner, elbows perched on the edge of the stone lip.

"Forgive our uncouth companion, my dear lady," Jeremiah smiled and bowed, "We did not expect to find such a vision of loveliness in this realm. Our experiences so far have lead us to look only for the bane and not have the wit to see that the dark can hold such beautiful glory such as yourself."

"You think me beautiful?" she smiled, turning her head coquettishly and laughing, a trilling, thrilling sound.

"Of course dear lady, who could not be smitten with your beauty?" Jeremiah continued, "It is as a perfect gem, shining in the darkness."

"Oh but surely you are a priest?" she brushed her fall of hair away from her dark, almost coal grey face, tucking it behind a long and pointed ear, "Are not such delights forbidden to you?"

"The... satisfaction of such base desires that interfere with my dedication to my god is forbidden to me," Jeremiah had stepped towards the lady without realizing, "But that does not forbid my admiration for such glorious elegance and grace."

She wriggled happily, wrapping her arms across her front, "Oh, tell me more." Kaelin turning her face away in disgust from where her companions had imbecilic smiles on their faces, anyone would think they hadn't ever seen a pretty lady and then she frowned, noticing the feet, if you could call them that, flexing on the edge of the stone. Her eyes flicked from the elf's beautiful face to the legs and back again. Something was not quite right here.

"Surely such a refined lady such as yourself has no need for such a thing as base flattery," Jeremiah stepped closer, smiling as if bliss already had ensured him completely and judging from his eyes it had. The other two seemed to be just as hypnotized but Thorian was frowning and he hadn't put his sword away.

"I'm not sure about this," he kept repeating, "I'm not sure at all."

"Indeed the greatest poet in the land would be hard pushed to be able to describe your merits, good lady," Jeremiah stepped closer, "The sun and moon would bow down before you and weep that they were out shone."

She smiled, gleeful mischief dancing in her eyes. She stretched out her hand to him.

She shrieked, making their heads ring like a opera singer hitting and holding a perfect note, as Kaelin's blade scoring a deep slash across one long gripping limb, the chitin parting with a sharp crack. She reared up over the edge, murder in her face and Jeremiah stumbled back with a squeal as the whole of her form came into the light.

To the waist she was a beautiful, seductive Ash Elf, who's frustrated hunger still shone through her rage. Below the waist though... Ulrich stumbled back with a exclamation of disgust.

Below the waist the bloated body of an impossibly large spider bulged and trembled, eight black, hairy legs dragging her bulk up and on to the ledge, Hat's ghostly blue glow shining off of the red hour glass shaped mark on her high humped back.

"Pathetic little vermin!" she spat baring down on Kaelin, "You dare! Do you think I don't know what you are? Dog stink! Wolf pup! I know what you are, I smell the curse curling through your veins. You think you are some how better than you sires? You are no different than they are! You are a flea, a vermin, a parasitic worm crawling through the flesh of your host!"

Jeremiah, seeing her attention was no longer on him, pressed his hands together and started whispering a pray to his god, entreating him to blind the creature to their actions, to become so lost in her own pride that she didn't consider them a threat. It worked, after a fashion.

"You are not even worthy of being a portion in my larder," the thing scuttled towards Kaelin, legs rippling. Kaelin backed up, tripped and fell and that was what saved her, the thing rearing back as Kaelin's blade came up, aimed at her venerable underbelly.

"I will drain you dry and leave your husk for the kerveads to lay their eggs in," it smiled down at Kaelin, baring fangs that shone green in the light, "How would you like that? How would you like the feel of their crawling, squirming maggots crawling in and out of your eyes sockets, soft and slimy and writhing as they nibble away at your brain and ooze out your nose, flooding from your mouth as they slip down your throat and wriggle under your skin?"

"You don't touch the Goddess!" a loud, squeaky voice squealed through the air, causing the thing to spin round, a very complicated maneuver as her legs sort to turn her and not get tangled with themselves at the same time.

Pouring over the land bridge, swarming over the lasher that tried to bar their way, a mass of goblins came flowing, rusty blades and stubby clubs waving in their hands. Leading the charge, the goblin that had asked to learn came howling, a divine war cry stretching his mouth wide.

"You dare you little vermin!?!" the Elf spider reared on to her back legs and then stamped down at the attacking goblins but they were determined to come to their Goddess' aid and they jumped and span, chopping at the clicking black columns that stamped and trampled down at them, the Elf spider screaming and spitting in a rage that still somehow appeared grotesquely endearing.

"Guess you were a naughty girl," Ulrich grinned as he lunged to the attack, "What went wrong? Matriarch discovered your plot to depose her before you were ready?"

The Elf spider shrieked and swung a leg in his direction. He ducked as it spun by over head.

"I've read about your kind see," his elf forged blade left a long cut up the next limb at swung towards her, "Your the disgraced ones, the ones who have failed." She howled and trampled forward only to be driven back, one leg cut short and trailing blood.

"You can't even have children any more to gain a little respect," Ulrich knew provoking her was a risky gamble but while she was concentrating on him, Thorian could hack at her at will, "You're barren, you're sterile and you can't even enjoy yourself any more."

The noise that broke from her throat was more of a wail and for a second Ulrich felt a little ashamed at striking so low and then she spat, the stream of venom hissing and spitting where it splattered over the rock as he ducked.

"You think I am unwanted?" she snarled, "You are a fool! Come me!"

The last words had a strange resonance that shivered and trembled in the air and then dark figures leapt from the tunnel mouth they had been trying to reach. The Elf Spider laughed then.

"You should never be making load noises in the Underworld," she grinned.

"Oh shouldn't you?" Kaelin asked and pocked the blow stick of Haggis into her mouth, blowing fit to burst. Haggis responded with a will. The goblins, who had drawn back, faces afraid, trembling at the sight of the Ash Elves and whimpering when one of them uncoiled a whip and flicked it at them, suddenly roared as one creature and charged, Thorian joining them in a charging, shrieking mass. The Ash Elves were obviously not expecting creatures who they were used to bullying and beating to rise up righteous and strike back, the one flicking out with the whip going down as half a dozen goblins piled into him and just hit and hit and hit with their little blades, shrieking and squealing the whole time.

"You scum!" another barked and slashed at the writhing, wriggling heap and several goblins went tumbling and rolling in pieces but next second Thorian's mighty sword crashed into the elf and snapped him like a damp twig.

The Elf Spider was not having any better of it, Ulrich driving her out along the stone bridge, Jeremiah muttering and mumbling as the shadows rose, groaning and crying from the rocks around him. The Elf Spider seemed to find said shadows as distressing as Kaelin had, screaming and striking out as they clustered round her, their hand prints showing up as momentary white splotches on her carapace.

"Stop it! Stop it!" she squealed, "You horrible like man! You can't do this, it's not fair!"

"All's fair in love and war," Jeremiah replied smugly as Hat came back and landed on his miter. She squealed and wailed as Haggis' music swirled and twined through the air, driving the goblins on to greater heights of strength, Thorian barreling gleefully along side them.

Used to being the biggest bullies in the play ground, used to being able to cow every other species into submission and most especially used to being able to kick goblins around as if they were worthless nothings, the Ash Elves found themselves overwhelmed and over run, the last of them falling as goblins literally climbed up them so they could hang on to elf ears with one hand while they stabbed with the other. Granted one elf went down as a goblin hung on to both ears and smacked it with his forehead, repeatedly, until there was a solid sounding crack. Thorian laughed at that one, the goblins cheering round his knees, jumping up and down on their old enemies to make sure they had won.

The Elf Spider shrieked, legs slashing at Ulrich, squealing as his elf forged blade gouged a deep injury in her side. Then he stumbled.

"You! You I shall kill, you worthless piece of filth!" she hissed, rearing up on to her back legs. Ulrich flinched and tried to roll out her way and nearly pitched himself off of the edge, stopped only just in time. He rolled back the other way as a leg crashed down where his head had been a second before. She laughed, a sound that still made him smile, even as another leg stamped down to block his path that way. Pulling himself on to his elbows, he tried to shuffle backwards, the terrible, beautiful face high above him.

With a gurgling cheer she reared on to her back legs again, front ones locking into straight spears aimed at his heart. She came down.

Ulrich flinched and closed his eyes as a gristly crunch rang out. After a moment, he realized that he wasn't in pain and he opened his eye a crack. Thorian stood over him, sword out stretched and the Elf Spider had impaled herself full length on that blade, the point piercing through her waist and buried all the way back into her spider body. A pained spasm crossed her face and she croaked. Thorian pushed her back and she tottered and then her back feet slipped off the edge of the stone bridge. With a sigh she leaned back and slid off the blade, toppling into the black abyss below, her broken form falling away into the dark below. There was no sound of her landing.

"You alright?" Thorian turned and pulled Ulrich to his feet.

"Right now, thanks to you," Ulrich nodded, "I owe you one."

"No drinks," Thorian said darkly.

"Unless its that ginger concoction at the Battered Bugle," Ulrich grinned, "See which of us winds up with the bigger bonfire in our bellies."

"I'd forgotten I'd told you about that!" Thorian slapped him on the back, "Now that sounds like a deal!"

"Yeah,"Ulrich rubbed his shoulder, "Sounds like a plan."

Jeremiah rolled his eyes and turned to where the elves lay, bloodied and still on the stone floor. Drawing himself up he started to chant. Kaelin shuddered and turned away as the shadow lined light coiled through the air and poured down the throats of the seven most intact corpses. With a creaking groan, the deceased elves rose, bodies hanging in disjointed uncomfortable poses, slack jawed and silent. The goblins squeaked and fell back, staring at the blue glow that filled the eye sockets of the elves. They chittered to each other, fingers forking in signs to drive off the evil eye.

"Blessed be the Goddess of the Thunder Voice!" Jeremiah proclaimed, "Bow to her holy name for she sends these to be your servants and slaves. Thus has the Goddess of the Thunder Voice judged them and found them wanting. They self serve out their punishment serving you. Blessed be the Goddess of the Thunder Voice."

The goblins stared at him, obviously confused by what he meant, except the one who lead them. Deep in his eyes that other presence stirred a fin.

"You," the goblin turned to the nearest elf, "Kiss my boot!" He jabbed a finger at the toe of aforementioned boot.

The elf, with no change of expression, got down its knees and did as instructed. The goblins blinked, stunned for a moment and then they burst out in a cacophony of squeaks and cried but it was a jubilant  noise, full of a laughter not heard in a goblin's voice before - relief. Kaelin opened her mouth to protest and found herself unable to kill their joy.

"Parf," Haggis said, a note of worry in his music.

"I know, I know," Kaelin stroked Haggis, lip trembling, facing down the terror that every god faces in the end - the fear of disappointing their followers. She looked at the grinning Jeremiah, the Mage of Thunder and knew, knew, that he understood that she wouldn't be able to turn the goblins away but that if it went south, if she failed to live up to their expectations, then she was the only one who would feel guilty about it.

For the first time she felt the hatred that her grandfather had often described coiling through her guts.