CAS

CAS

Friday, October 31, 2014

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 41



Ingigerd was taking too long to die.

Estrith looked down upon the ancient crone and wished she could take the bony old throat between her hands and be done with her here and now. They had moved the dying giantess into a barrack's room while the giants fought the blaze that consumed Nosnra's trophy hall. The chieftaness had ordered the slave pens emptied below and now crowds of half-starved orcs ran about and filled buckets with sodden oerth. All the steading's inhabitants now battled against the fire. They threw buckets and spadefulls of mud onto the blaze. As it spread Estrith had warriors take axe to walls and create a break, keeping the wood from becoming more fuel for the smoking flames. The steading groaned, there was a booming crash that rang throughout the hall. Estrith ran from the room to see what had occurred. Some part of the roof must have collapsed, she thought. It was time to begin removing things from the hall to a safe distance beyond the walls.

"Alditha!" Estrith called to a young maid.

"Yes," the young giantess replied meekly.

"Come with me," the chieftaness commanded.

"But I am to..." began Alditha.

"You are to come with me," Estrith said with finality.

"Yes," Alditha acquiesced.

They made their way down the smokey corridor and stopped before the door leading to the childrens' creche. Inside they could hear the sounds of playful games, shouts and laughter muffled by the thick wood. Estrith opened the door and the wave of noise washed over them like a flood. She had to shout at Gundrada, the matron of the nursery, to be heard over the rollicking group of giant young.

"Gundrada! GUNDRADA!" Estrith roared.

The children were cowed by the loud angry shout.

"Estrith, what is wrong?" Gundrada came dashing over, a look of concern tinged with fear on her face.

"It is time to move the children to a safer place. I will have someone sent to help you, but prepare them. We may have to leave the steading," Estrith told her.

"Leave!" Gundrada could not believe her ears.

"Yes. Do I need to tell you twice? Prepare the children," the chieftanness turned her back and strode from the room her duty completed.

* * *

"I'd rather not go back in there," Harold said and rubbed at his arm.

"The manticores are dead," Gytha told him. "Do not worry."

"What do you need me in there for then?" the little thief stood in the corridor and peered round the door into the cavernous room.

"The other gate is shut. We need you to find a way to open it," Gytha put her hand on Harold's arm, he flinched.

"Still hurts?" she asked.

"No." Harold put his left hand against his right upper arm where the manticores spikes had pierced. "No it feels fine now, but it's like the spikes are still there, sometimes, when I don't think about it."

"Hmmm... your wounds should be healed," Gytha looked at him. "But I see that you are serious about this pain. Harold, the Saint has healed your wounds out here," she gave his arm a pat. "You do not have the faith so the pain remains in here," she tapped his chest over his heart. "I suspect that when the time has passed that would have seen nature heal your wounds then the pain you feel will pass as well."

"Oh wonderful, you fill me with hope and joy when you tell me things like that," Harold complained.

"Harold," the ranger called. He came from the room beyond the destroyed bars and looked down at the halfing. "Come on, Telenstil has cleaned out those beasts good and proper. We need a way into their pen if we're going to escape from this dungeon."

"Stop pestering, the both of you," Harold glanced from the ranger to Gytha. "Let's see this gate that needs lifting."

Inside the room Ivo and Telenstil were in deep conversation pacing across the floor. The two scouts stood near to the southern gate and Edouard used his newly gained spear to prod the black charred bodies of the manticores through the bars which blocked off the two rooms. Henri sat crosslegged in a far corner of the room, his face to the wall, meditating, or simply ignoring all the others.

"Telenstil!" called Harold. The halfing ran over to the mage.

"Harold, good, we need your skill," said Telenstil. "Let us see what we can do with this gate."

"Raise it hopefully," mused Ivo.

They walked over to the southern wall and had the scouts stand back.

"Ye gods this place stinks," said Harold.

Ivo sniffed the air. "It is more than just burnt flesh. What was this? The giants' midden pit?"

"Perhaps," said Telenstil. "Look toward the center of the room."

They peered through the metal bars. "That is definitely a midden heap. The manticores have smeared it across their floor."

"I've never heard that they were over clean," said Ivo, "but this is a sorry state for any beast."

"Come then," said Harold. "I want to make this quick. Telenstil do you have some magic to take away this awful smell?"

"Here," said Ivo, "take this." He handed the thief a brightly colored handkerchief.

"Is it magic?" Harold held it carefully.

"No but I kept some herbs in it. Tie it around your nose and it will distract you from the other smells."


Harold took a cautious sniff and sneezed. "I don't know which is worse," then he caught the scent of the rotting garbage on the floor, "you're right, that room is worse." He tied the cloth around his face. 

Thursday, October 30, 2014

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - part 40



Harald and the two scouts heaved at the gate but could not lift it.

"Is it locked in place?" asked Ivo.

"No," the thief answered. "It's just heavy as a horse."

"It's not going to budge," said Harold. The ranger stood up and stretched, they could hear the bones in his back give small pops. "Uggh! That's better, worked the kinks out at least."

"I see no other way than to use a spell. It is one of the most powerful that I know." said Telenstil. "Please stand back."

The others all moved away from the metal bars. Telenstil drew out a small dark stone from his belt and pointed it toward the gate. "Tee-Ja" he said and a pale green light shot out. It played against the bars and in an instant they were gone. Nothing remained but a purplish dust on the floor. A section higher than their heads and wider than a man lying on the ground had disappeared, destroyed by the mage's spell. "Now let us see to those manticores," said Telenstil.

"I've seen enough of them already," Harold replied emphatically and rubbed his wounded arm.

The room beyond was vast and dimly lit. Harold told them all he'd seen, the piles of chests and coffers against the western wall, the sign of traps his shaman's magic powder had revealed and the second metal gate closed along the southern wall. The manticores had sent their spikes from behind the bars and wounded him near to death.

"I'll go help Talberth with the map," he told them and slipped back across the hall into the hidden room.

"We may need him yet again," said Telenstil. "I will need to rest before I can cast that spell once more. If we are to enter into that southern room we will need to find a way to remove those bars."

"Shall I go and get him back?" asked Gytha.

"Not yet, we will deal with these manticores first... hmm..." the elf became lost in thought. "No... I can hold them frozen with a spell, I think, but only for a short time. There is no way that I know of short of slaying them outright. What of you? And Henri, is there any way to immobilize these beasts without harm?"

"Manticores, they are an abomination in the True God's sight. They can only be cast out and removed from their existence on the Oerth," Henri intoned.

"That would be a no, I'd say," said Gytha. "And I can do nothing that would keep them from harming us except to harm them worse."

"Henri is right," said Harald. "These are evil beasts, if I found one sleeping in the woods I would kill it quick before it could do anyone more harm."

Telenstil gave a sigh. "I have no love for such creatures myself, but I never kill unless I have to, I have seen too much death in my life already. But I have the means. I will try to make this quick. Stay here but prepare yourself, just in case my magic fails."

Telenstil removed a small turtle shell from his belt, he had the leather ringed with pockets; each held some component for his spells. "Em-En-Et!" he intoned and the shell became a mist which surrounded him then disappeared. He walked out to the center of the room and called to the manticores behind the southern bars. They howled and screeched and shot their spikes, flung from tails and barked out curses when they saw that they could not strike the mage. Telenstil approached, he saw that four of the man-faced creatures were within the room. They lined the bars; their lion-bodies flashed out razor claws and tried to reach beyond their prison door. The mage backed away and when he had moved far enough he drew out a small crystal rod, "Sa-La-Ma!" he said. The rod became a streak of blue, the air burned as it passed. The bolt was a wide blue-white, living thing. It struck the manticores and froze them to the metal bars. They crackled beneath the electric pulse and sagged as it flashed past. Their hair ignited into flame but before they could voice even a single howl the bolt came back. It struck the cold stone wall behind them and doubled round and lit them up again. Telenstil blinked and walked to the southern gate. Four burnt bodies lay against the bars. He turned and looked away. "Go get our thief. Tell him all is safe."

* * *

The hammer fell from Ansgar's aching hands. Atheling watched out the southern window and Hugolin had run down the stairs to get help, but Ansgar could ring the warning alarm no more.

"Atheling, take another turn," said Ansgar. "My arms are burning."

Atheling did not reply, Ansgar had to give him a shove. The giant turned and took two rolled up bits of cloth from his ears. Ansgar did the same.

"What is it?" Atheling asked.

"Take a turn at the alarm," said Ansgar. "My arms are about to drop off."

"I don't know why we are bothering," Atheling picked up the hammer with one hand and put his earplugs back in. "No one seems to be listening. Smell that smoke? The steading's on fire! What is going on down there?"

"I don't know," Ansgar shook his head. "Hugolin will be back to tell us, but the orders are to ring the alarm till we are told to stop."

"If that fire comes any nearer I'm not going to stand around banging on some metal bar," replied Atheling.


He raised the hammer and sent out the jarring sound again while Ansgar hastily filled his ears with rolls of cloth. Ansgar wondered what was going on as well. They had heard nothing since the maid Alditha had come to tell them of some disturbance in the hall. After the pretty young giantess had run off they had waited for some time then sent Hugolin out to find out what was going on. 

Art - Armand Point -Isis


Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Clark Ashton Smith - Art & Sculptures 10


The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 39



Harald came running back down the hall. Inside the room the others stood and argued about what next to do.

"Telenstil!" he called to the elf. "The fire has spread above us. The room where you found the map must be burning."

"That is good news," Telenstil looked pleased.

"What do you mean?" asked Talberth. "We are trapped down here then."

"Nonsense," said Telenstil. "My friend you have become gloomy and hidebound since we last met. There is that gate and beyond that some beasts which we can tend to. I feel sure there is some way out beside those stairs. And worse comes to worse we can use the magic chain that you have found."

"What is it that you want to do?" said Talberth. "It is this map, isn't it?"

"You read me like a scroll," said Telenstil. "Yes, now that we need not worry about giant visitors from above let us unroll this map and see what it shows."

Harald came over to the stone chest and looked inside. He lifted out the chain letting the cold links run through his hand. "Strange treasure this," he said.

"Careful there!" Talberth nearly shouted. "That's a magical device."

"Looks like iron mongery to me," the ranger said. He held the long chain in his two hands and put it carefully back into the box.

"Look at that," Talberth called to Telenstil. "He can carry that chain easily. We need not leave it behind."

"Yes, one forgets that heavy is a relative term," said Telenstil. "Harald, that chain, would it weigh you down?"

"That?" Harald glanced into the stone box at the metal chain. "Oh, it's heavy enough, but I can carry it if you like. It's magic you say?"

"So it seems," said Telenstil. "Harald, while you are there please pull out that map from the barrel next to you."

The ranger grabbed the tall barrel and pushed it to its side. It crashed to the ground and rocked back and forth. He pulled the map out, it was rolled up like a carpet, and spread it across the floor.

"What does this say?" Harald asked.

"I thought you understood the giants' tongue." said Talberth.

"I can understand, yes, but I only know a little of their writing. Some of this I can make out," the ranger pointed to a symbol here and there. "That means cold or snow, and that means bear, that's the symbol for guard, and that," he pointed to the center of map, "means big bug. It looks like some kind of valley with ledges and caves all around it. That symbol means slippery and next to it means ice."

"This is the home of a frost giant lord," said Telenstil pouring over the monstrous map. "A Jarl, Grugnur, lord of the north, it says. This must be Nosnra's ally to the north. Those giants you fought before, they must have been sent from him."

"This map, it is for Nosnra," said Talberth. "It's written in the hill giant script and there, look, it is a guide to guest's chambers and an audience hall, but it shows little else."

"It is disappointing," said Telenstil. "No need to worry about leaving it behind. Talberth, you have a good and steady hand, please copy what you can of this."

"But Telenstil, we do not have the time," the mage protested.

"We have a little time, and I will lend my hand to opening that gate across the way and putting down those manticores if need be. That will give you some time to make a rough copy of this map."


"All right. I have a charcoal stick and a blank scroll sheet in my pack," Talberth said and went to retrieve both. 

Castle 33


Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Witch 25


Art - From 'The White Stag' -Seredy


The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 38



The black box, obsidian stone, smooth and sharp cornered, chipped all along its length, was heavier than the small halfling could budge. It took Talberth, Telenstil, Henri and the wiry old gnome to shift its lid. The top slid aside and smashed against the floor, a corner shattered into fragments and the lid itself split in two.

"What do we have here?" Talberth asked himself aloud.

Inside the box was a white, fur hide wrapped into a roll. The mage reached down and pulled, but it would not budge.

"Something inside," Talberth answered his own question, "heavy as this box."

"Can you unwrap it?" asked Telenstil.

Talberth gave it a half-hearted tug. "No, I will cut it away," he said and reached for his knife.

"Are you crazy!" the thief exclaimed. "That hide is worth its weight in gold."

"Not here it's not," said Talberth. "Here it is just in the way."

"Well, give it a chance at least," Harold climbed up over the tall sides of the box and hopped within. He grabbed the edge and gave the hide a pull with all his strength. He strained and tugged it back and forth till he had drawn some slack. "You can help," he said to the others.

Telenstil laughed and took up two handfuls of the furry hide, Talberth did the same, but Henri merely stood back and watched them work. Ivo would have climbed into the box, but, though it was large, there was just not enough room for the gnome and halfling both. When they had unwrapped a length that he could reach, Ivo grabbed hold and pulled as well. Soon the hide was hanging over the box's lip, part of it still weighed down by what lay within. A black metal chain, its links thick and finely made, with a huge scroll was tied around a section of its length. Talberth drew up the links and untied the scroll; a cured skin, the blockish giant script written across its face.

"Hah!" he said. "If this scroll speaks true then we have our door!"

* * *

The ranger coughed, the smoke was a hazy mist before his eyes but thick and dark above his head. He stood within the small room that held the giants' firewood, the door to Nosnra's meeting room was hot beneath his hand.

"Yes, as I thought," he said then quickly dropped back down the giants' stairs.

* * *

"What do you mean?" Harold asked the mage.

"This chain," said Talberth. "From what this scroll relates, it is a magical device of teleportation."

"Wonderful!" the halfling cried. "Can it take us to Greyhawk?"

"Hmmm, well no I don't think so," Talberth read through the scroll. "It gives instruction for its use but says nothing about the destination."

"Oh great. It probably'll take us back to Nosnra's trophy hall," moaned Harold.

"Yes," said Telenstil, "that does pose a problem. Talberth, that chain seems very heavy. I doubt that we can take it with us and I am loathe to use an unknown device."

"How else are we to get out of this pit?" Talberth asked with vehemence.

"We are not trapped just yet my friend," Telenstil said kindly. "If we cannot take that chain with us, or this other map, and we dare not use it yet, then perhaps we can hide it."

"In here?" Talberth said and looked around at the empty room.

"I can render it invisible," said Ivo.

"Yes, but not insubstantial," Talberth replied. "The giants already are using illusions to mask these things in the first place. I can't see them believing just their eyes if they find them missing."

"Hey!" called Harold. "The others are returning."

The concealed door opened up and Gytha came running in. She quickly passed by the trapped floor and ran up to Telenstil.

"We smelled strong smoke back at the stairs and Harald has gone up to see how the fire is spreading," she said in one long breath.

"That big fool," Harold shook his head.

"Harald is no fool, but your concern speaks well of you," Gytha chided. "I do not think we need worry about the giants coming down from those stairs just yet."

"Good, then we have a bit more time," said Telenstil.

"To do what?" asked Talberth.

"To hide the chain and map," Telenstil replied. "You are correct, just masking them with invisibility is not enough. And I want a chance to study that map at the very least."

The two scouts returned while the others spoke. They dumped the packs they carried to the floor although they were more careful with their own.

"Where is mine?" Henri asked them.

"Oh," Gytha said and smiled at the haughty cleric. "I brought it for you."

Henri looked aghast. He stood there with his hands at his side and Gytha, seeing that he would not take the pack from her, let it fall to the floor.

"You're welcome," she said and turned her back.

"I have an idea," said Harold. The thief looked back down to the trap set in the floor. "I'll spring that trap and we can hide them inside."

"I don't like it," said Talberth. "We don't know what that trap will release; poison gas, set off some alarm, who knows."

"Harold, is such possible?" asked Telenstil.

"Sure, anything is possible, but giants aren't normally so subtle," the thief argued.

"No, and they don't normally use illusions to hide their treasure," said Talberth.

"I agree with Talberth," Ivo spoke up. "Best thing to do with a trap is to avoid it, not set it off."


"Well, it was only a suggestion," Harold crossed his arms and looked a little peeved. 

Sunday, October 26, 2014

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 37



Harold found a latch and pulled up the barrel's tight, sealed lid. It had hinges down the center and the top opened up, split down the middle, opening in a semi-circle. Inside was a roll of hide, Harold reached down and bent back an edge, he saw the same markings he had seen before upon the map which Telenstil had transported with his magic to the land below.

"So what is this? Another map?" the mage asked amused. "Do these giants keep all their plans in duplicate?"

"I don't know about that, but this has the same spidery scrawling on it," said Harold.

* * *

Above their heads the alarm kept sounding. Giants fought the fire which blazed and spread throughout the hall. The roof was damp and sent black choking smoke out into the sky. Nosnra would not be pleased, his sleeping chamber was afire, his trophy hall blackened by smoke and licked by flame. The iron door, magicked into place by Telenstil, glowed red, the wooden frame blackened and charred. Suddenly the crack of splitting wood resounded, the lintel parted, the burnt wood revealed its untouched heart, but too little was left to keep the iron valve in place. It swayed back and picked up speed then slammed against the floor with a boom heard throughout the hall. Flooring shattered revealing the stone beneath, and a cloud of smoke lit orange by the flames came rushing in. No one would notice the missing map, within minutes the chief's private meeting hall was covered in flames. The great chimney acted as the flue and the table, chairs and many tapestries burned for moments and then were gone, like a lantern wick. Out across the fields and still far off, Nosnra came walking home, his warriors still weak and dazed, even the wolves were silent and withdrawn.

* * *

"What was that!" several voices said at once.

"Sounds like the giants have breached that door," said Talberth. He had been waiting for the sound.

"Then they could be down here at any time!" cried Harold.

"Don't worry," Ivo called to him, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I can mask us all from their sight."

"What if they find us as they found the cave and our camp?" questioned Talberth.

"Then we will fight, and they will die," Harald answered him plainly and unconcerned. He had come up after shutting the hidden door. "But we'd best get those packs we left behind by the stairs."

"Too late for that," Talberth looked around the room, at its empty floor and doorless walls. "We're trapped."

"Nonsense," Telenstil spoke up. "Talberth you are too worried. The giants have not found us yet, but those packs might be a help to us, remember, they are all that we have left from our supplies."

"I remember," said Gytha thinking of her and the other's horses left back at the cave rather than any supplies. "I'll go, how about you Harald?"

"Telenstil, looks like I have nothing else to do here, and I can carry half."

"Good," said Telenstil. "Edouard, Derue, please go along as well."

The scouts looked first toward their master Henri who gave to them a nod before they followed the ranger and cleric out into the hall.

* * *

"Smell that smoke," Harald said.

"Yes, it is thick," Gytha replied.

They'd run down the hall and stood by the stairs which went back up to Nosnra's private meeting room. The smell of burning wood was overpowering but so far no smoke had come drifting down.

"I am going to go check on this," said Harald heading up the stairs.

"Harald, no! What if the giants are heading down?" Gytha called to him.

Harald sniffed at the air. "I don't think we have to worry about the giants, but I am worried about the fire."

The two scouts noted the ranger's words but said nothing. Each slung two packs over their shoulders and started back to the hidden room.


"Harald, you be careful. I will be back as soon as I have talked with Telenstil." Gytha ran after the departing scouts. 

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 36



"That was not here before," Harald pointed at an open door where only stone wall had been.

"Looks like they may have found us another way out," said Talberth.

"Perhaps only another way further in," Telenstil replied.

"I thought I was the one with the gloomy thoughts," Talberth said to his old mentor.

"I hear voices," Harald interrupted them. "Sounds like Harold but I can't make out what he is saying."

The ranger stepped around the half open door. The halfing stood upon a man-high wooden chest against the eastern wall and looked toward the south, which was out of Harald's sight, while the red-haired cleric, Gytha, stood nearby. Someone spoke from where the ranger could not see then Harold spoke again.

"Hey!" the ranger called. "Have you found a passage out of here?"

The halfling turned and with wide eyes shouted for the ranger to stop. "Don't Move! You Fool! Don't Move!"

Harald paused his foot lifted, about to take a step which might have been his last.

* * *

Harold dropped to the ground and ran down the hall.

"You big buffoon, one more step and you would have been in it."

"In what?" Harald asked. "I don't see a thing."

The floor looked to be made from solid stone. The entire area seemed to be resting on a single slab of rock.

"Our holy Henri spotted it. He has a great talent for seeing hidden things," Harold explained. "It's some sort of trap, though what kind I do not know."

"Is there a way around?" Talberth asked as he stood in the doorway.

"Of course," laughed the little halfling. "How do you think we got across? Just hug the wall on either side. The giants have left a space big enough for us to pass."

"Harald, please help shut the door before we proceed further," Telenstil asked the ranger for his help.

"Sure, you go on, I can shut this by myself."

Harald walked over and grabbed the edge of the giant's door. One side was made of wood. The other looked and felt like stone but weighed far less. The hinges, which Harald could not see, made no noise, and the door clicked as he closed it shut.

"Telenstil!" Gytha called pleased to see the mage.

"Gytha, Ivo, what have we here?" the elf asked.

"Is there a door?" Talberth looked around the corner of the room. His hopeful smile disappeared. The room ended in a long southern wall, the priest Henri stood there among a covering of yellow-colored mold and pulled forth a spear, its blade shinning like polished steel.

"Where did that come from?" Talberth asked surprised.

"These giants are craftier than we had thought," said Ivo. "They have cloaked their treasure with magic spells."

"Henri here can see right through them with that golden mask of his," Harold said irreverently.

"We haven't opened up those chests over there," the halfling pointed to the eastern wall and the many wood and iron chests.

"Are they trapped?" asked Telenstil.

"Not as far as I can tell," Harold shook his head.

Telenstil watched as the cleric handed the spear to Edouard. The scout bowed his head and said some word of thanks that the mage could not hear.

"Henri," Telenstil walked over and called out. "Your faith stands you in good stead. Do you see an exit to this room?"

"No." Henri turned his gold masked face to Telenstil. "I see no hidden doors only these weapons hidden beneath a spell."

"And those chests, where we see broken boxes?" added Ivo. The old gnome went to the southeast corner of the room and waved his hands and spoke a powerful word. The broken barrels wavered as if seen through heat above a fire, they faded and were gone. In their place a large black box made of stone and next to it a barrel bigger than a man.

"Harold," Telenstil waved a hand toward the box and the barrel. "Please be so kind."

"My pleasure," the thief replied. Harold walked around the chest and examined it with care.

"I do not like it here," Talberth glanced around the room. "We are trapped if the giants come."

"Yes," Telenstil agreed. "Yet this hidden room bears searching out. Can we spare the time, Talberth; who can say, or even if it is worth the risk. No we won't rest here, not yet."

"Is this place on your map?" Talberth asked the elven mage.

"No, and it was never mentioned by the one-time merchant, more recently Nosnra's slave." Telenstil reached into his robe and removed an ivory tube. He took out the copy of the escaped slave's map. "As you see, somewhere below the steading there is a holding cell, a smithy, and orc pens, but no sign of secret rooms or treasure chests. Not surprising."

"The two ways may not even connect. How did this merchant escape?" Talberth asked.

"Somewhere there is a stream. See it marked here," Telenstil pointed to a roughly drawn symbol on the map. "The merchant was lowered on a rope and had to unclog the giants' garbage chute. The rope broke and by luck and fate he survived his ride along the stream and washed up on the banks of the White Oyt river. Hunters found him half-alive and when his tale was told he was brought before the duke where the first copy of this map was drawn."


"Telenstil!" the thief almost shouted, "This barrel! You won't believe it but I've found you another of those giant maps." 

Friday, October 24, 2014

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 35



"No need to get snippy," Harold called back. "Let me just see what is around this corner."

"Be careful!" Gytha told him. "I don't think Henri's spell covers the entire room."

"What! Harlot! The God's light illuminates what he wills, he knows no limits." Henri exclaimed.

"Harlot!" Gytha shouted back. "Why you sanctimonious stuck-up pr..." She could barely restrain herself from striking Henri.

"Now stop this!" Ivo yelled at them. "In Nosnra's dungeon with no way out, and you two want to fight each other! Save it for the giants."

"He started it," Gytha complained and cast a dangerous glance at the blind priest.
"Henri you did. Is this the way that your liege the Theocrat would have you behave?"

Ivo looked up at them both. "Children, big as houses you are, but you act like children."

Harold had paid their argument no mind; instead he continued exploring the room. "Trust that pompous cleric," he said to himself, "not likely."

Against the eastern wall were several chests, some giant-sized but others that must have been crafted by smaller hands. Harold was drawn to these like a moth to a flame. He circled them; even crawling behind to check for hidden traps. He climbed atop the largest one, he felt along the sides and carefully examined each hinge, but he found nothing other than plain wood and iron bolts. Gytha came up to him while he searched. Her eyes still shone but she had kept her temper in check, a most notable achievement for a follower of the cudgel-wielding saint.

"I take it that these are safe?" she asked Harold.

The halfling was sitting atop the largest one. He had climbed over the other coffers and chests as if they were a set of stairs.

"It's safe. This big one looks to be at least." Harold gave the broad lid a pat.

Behind them came Ivo, then the scouts. Henri walked in last and looked at the southern alcove he walked over to the southwestern corner and reached into an area covered with a yellow mold.

"Hey!" Harold yelled. "Careful there, that stuff could be dangerous!"

Henri did not reply or stay his hand. He pulled a quiver full of arrows from the mold. "I do not fear weapons hanging on a wall," he said.

"An illusion!" Harold cried. "Ivo, I am surprised that you did not spot it first."

"I would have done," Ivo said, "but before I waste a spell..." he began, "What is it that your metal mask lets you see Henri."

"The True God grants me to see what is," Henri told them all. "No illusions can cloud my sight."

"Oh gods and magic," Harold cried. "This coming from a blind man who speaks of sight. Well my eyes still see a moldy wall. What else do you see?"

"A spear, and two sheathed swords hanging here before me," Henri turned to take in the rest of the room. "Over there," he pointed to where the thief stood atop the giant wooden chest. "There is a large wooden trunk and several smaller ones."

"I see these as well," said Harold.

"And here," The cleric stared looking with his golden mask at the southeast corner of the room, "A stout cask and a large box of black stone."

"Ah-Ha!" Harold almost clapped with delight. "Something else they did not want us to find. Ivo, you are a master of this magic," began Harold graciously. "Have you ever heard of giants who could hide their treasure thus?"

"There are giants and there are giants my friend," said Ivo. "Some of the cloud dwellers are as skilled as any of my kind."

"Oh. I pictured them all like these," said Harold.

"No, these are hill giants. There are others bigger, fiercer and more skilled," Ivo told the halfling.

The two scouts approached Henri and the cleric handed a sword to one. "Careful," Henri said to them. "These are fine blades. They may be more than just steel. Do you take them in the name of the True God?" Henri asked.

Edouard held out his hand and crossed his fingers in his mind. "I do," he said aloud, but wordlessly said a prayer to Syrul. He gave an honest smile as he held the sword. A fiery voice spoke in his head. "It speaks to me!" he cried out, and regretted his momentary lapse of discipline.

"What does it say?" Derue exclaimed.

"It says that its name is Kalfashow," Edouard answered in a subdued voice.

"Magic!" Harold cried. "That would be worth a chest of gold."

"It will serve us better in a swordsman's hands, thief," Henri rebuked the halfling.

"What of the other?" asked Derue, eager to claim it as his own.

"Do you swear..." Henri began.

"I swear, I swear..." Derue burst out and grabbed the sword from Henri's hand.

The cleric flushed and would have redressed his hireling but Edouard spoke up.

"Master Henri, my apologies for my brother's haste. Derue!"

"It speaks as well! It says that its name is Ardare and it will burn with flame!" Derue was as delighted as a child.

"What of yours Edouard?"

Edouard rolled his eyes. He would have struck his brother for such a careless tongue but not before the others in the room.

"Your sword seems to be more talkative than mine," Edouard gave Derue a hard shove to break him from his reverie. "Apologize to master Henri," he commanded.

Derue flushed redder than the cleric. He bowed his head and knelt as a supplicant craving his master's pardon. "I beg your pardon master. I acted without thought."

Henri was pleased at such diffidence. He smiled and like a theocrat or a king touched the scout lightly upon his bowed head. "Your haste is forgiven," he said.


"Two magic swords!" Harold moaned. No chance, he thought, of ever parting them from those pale-haired scouts. 

Thursday, October 23, 2014

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 34



"Good thing it's all rolled up," Harold looked over the blackened bundle.

Telenstil flashed him an almost angry look. The elf was covered from head to feet across his front with a layer of soot. He'd protected his face with his upraised hands but his hair was grey-black and the ash rained down from it as he turned his head. He muttered a small cantrip, "Pu-Das," he said and the soot jumped from his hair and clothes and from the map as well.

"That's amazing," the halfling smiled. "It's that type of magic that has always impressed me."

Telenstil smiled as well, happy to be clean again and more than glad to see the map undamaged and free of soot. "That was an apprentice's trick, but useful. A mage cannot mend a rip or tie a knot with a lightning bolt. These small magics have their use."

"I have no liking for all the bangs and booms," Harold told him, "but many of these small magics would be handy in my trade."

"Master thief, Talberth should be back soon," said Telenstil. "It will be safest if I am alone to send the map to my queen. Please begin your search below for some means for us to escape these rooms or some better place to hide."

"Right you are, but we may need that magic dust of yours if we can find no other way through the iron bars," said Harold.

"I will be along as quick as I can manage, and I will send Talberth down to you as soon as he can," Telenstil turned and called to the old ranger. "Harald please give me a hand, this map is more your size than mine. Can you take it and move it from the hearth?"

"This little thing," the ranger laughed and hefted the map over a broad shoulder. As they left the chimney a voice called from above. "Look out below," and a pack came down quickly, but lowered on a rope.

"Talberth will not be long," said Telenstil with a cautious glance up the chimney. "Henri," he called as the halfling went to gather Gytha and Ivo.

"Yes," the cleric replied.

"Harold is going down to find some way for us to pass, please help him if you can?" asked Telenstil.

"The Blinding Light will show the way," said Henri and gestured to his servants. "Come," he commanded the pair of scouts and left the room heading for the stairs.

Telenstil had Harald leave the map inside the weapons' room and spoke to him before he left to join the others down below. "Harald, please stay and help carry the packs away from the hearth as Talberth drops them down. I will be here, but do not enter, this magic is not safe."

"Do not kill yourself over this map, my friend," Harald said.

"No, I think the risk is small, and less than we have all taken coming here, but thank you, my friend."

Telenstil half-shut the door and removed a flat case from his robe that he had taken from his pack. He touched the mirror and spoke a word to make it live, "Pu-Ha," he said and the silvered surface flowed like liquid metal.

"My queen," Telenstil spoke into the moving face, "you will not like the destruction of your gift, but this map... It shows our dark kindred's hand, as we thought it would. The giants have proved more canny than expected. I will search for more proof and do what damage that I can, but it seems possible that I, or any of our group, will not return alive from this venture."

Telenstil put the mirror down atop the map and drew a dagger from his belt. Crying aloud "Mik-Ka!" he smashed the mirror with the pommel and sent the enchanted glass flying all to bits. He took the largest pieces and placed them around the rolled-up map, then pushed some fragments beneath and laid the broken frame on top. He drew a connecting line from bit to bit with a colored stick of wax and using the power of the mirror's magic he cast a spell he did not know himself. "Mat-Kus-Ta!" he said and a silver beam shot from piece to piece. They formed a glowing web and then burst forth, the light encompassed all within and then was gone. The lines of wax were all that remained to show that either mirror or map had ever lain upon the floor.

* * *

"All done in there?" Harald asked as Telenstil left Nosnra's armory.

"Yes, the map has been sent," Telenstil looked toward the chimney and saw a pair of legs descending. Talberth floated down, the last two packs in his arms.

"The fire is still burning up there. Lots of smoke; the giants are running around the yard trying to put it out," Talberth chuckled.

"Fun for you, not so much fun for them," Harald said.

"I hope it stays that way," Talberth replied.

"Me too!" the ranger agreed wholeheartedly.

"We had best grab these packs and join the others," Telenstil picked up his own.

The ranger slung his heavy pack across his shoulder and carried two on either arm. The wizards struggled with their load, two packs each was as much as they could carry with any ease. All three brushed past the dangling hide of the manticore and headed for the stairs.

* * *

"You are right, Harold," Ivo said to the halfing. "This being carried down the stairs is undignified."

"These big folk start thinking you're a bit of baggage," Harold told the gnome. "A habit I don't want them to fall into on a regular basis."

"Harold," Gytha had come back to the stairs while Henri and the mercenary pair went on ahead. "Henri had his hirelings tell me, to tell you, that there is something wrong about the wall."

"What wall?" Harold asked. He'd checked that corridor and found nothing but the trap that sprang the iron bars.

"You had best go see. Ivo and I will come along as well. I do not care for those three." Gytha gave a nod toward the Pholtite and the scouts.

* * *

"That rope in the chimney should make them think we've escaped," said Talberth as they dropped down the stairs.

"Maybe," said Harald, "but they'll search down here as well."

"When the fire is out it will not take them long to knock down that iron wall," said Telenstil, "but I do not believe that these stairs lead nowhere."

"Maybe we would have been better off escaping and coming back," Talberth said morosely.

"Do not be so glum," Telenstil told the downcast mage. "It would be worse if we were caught out in the fields or along some hillside. This will be for the best, and I have some idea of what lies below."

"Your mapmaker?" asked Talberth.

"Yes," Telenstil admitted to the failings of his source of information. "My mapmaker proved to be turned about, but it was he who first spoke of that map, and that alone is worth all our efforts."

"Is that map worth our lives?" Talberth did not wait for an answer but hopped down the final stairs and looked about the empty passage.

"Where have they gotten to?" Harald dropped the last of the packs and pointed down the hall. "That arch and those bars are at the end down there."

"Well they can carry their own packs from here," said Talberth dropping the packs he carried to the floor with a grateful sigh.

The hall was long and dark, though a glowing square of light could be seen where Harald pointed at its far northern end.

"If this is all there is then these giants will make short work of us here."

"This corridor does not seem to offer much in the way of hiding places," said Telenstil. "Come then, let us find the others and a better place."

"To die?" asked Talberth,

"To hide," Telenstil replied, "perhaps to fight. Dying is not among my plans."

* * *

"What is wrong with this wall?" Harold asked the cleric.

Henri did not even look down at him. "Thief, this wall conceals a door, this I know, but the lock must be opened or destroyed before I can pass through."

"What! Let me see," Harold bent and ran his hands across the ground, then along the edges that the cleric Henri pointed to. He still didn't see a door among the stones, but then he felt a small groove along the wall. This was no magic door, but hidden with great skill. "This is no giant's work," Harold said. "Yes, there is a door. Where is this lock?"

Henri pointed far above the halfling's head.

"I thought as much," said Harold. "Edouard, you will have to lift me up."

"Alright then," Edouard bent down and put the halfling on his shoulders like a child being lifted up to see over a crowd. Even standing on his toes Harold still could not reach the lock.

"You will have to get me higher up," he said.

"Derue, your sword." Edouard commanded. "No, leave it in the sheath. We'll make a shelf out of it to hold up the halfling."

"Right," muttered Derue. He gave the thief a glare, but just a glance, then put his false face back on again.

The two brothers held up the sword as high as their arms could reach. Harold climbed from Edouard's shoulder and balanced atop the sheathed blade.

"That's better," he said to himself.

"What?" Edouard called up to him.

"This will work out fine," Harold called back, and with a few deft clicks and turns of steel wire and pick he opened the lock. "All done. You can let me down now."

"That was quick," Edouard said as he lowered the halfing to the floor.

"It was nothing," Harold said with pride. "But that is not the work of giants. That lock was dwarven work, but flawed."

"How is it flawed?" asked Ivo.

"It's finely made and has a few subtle tricks, but any thief can see that the tumblers are notched. My guide wire fell right into place and the pick turned them like a key," Harold laughed. "This lock was made to be opened."

"By design do you think? Could it be a trap?" questioned Ivo.

"I see no sign, but I did not see this door either," Harold told him. "I will have to climb to the top and check."

"We waste time," Henri complained. "Stand back. The cleric pointed toward the door. A white burning light passed through it and left no trace except for glowing spots dancing before their eyes. "The door is safe. Edouard, please open it."

The scout blinked several times and rubbed his eyes, then leapt quickly to obey. He looked about him but could find no handle. "How?" he asked the Pholtite priest.

"Push against it near the lock," suggested Harold as Henri looked on and said nothing but projected a sense of anger and exasperation at all around him.

Edouard stretched and pushed at the door. It made a clicking sound and then opened from some pressure with a slight whisper of escaping air.

"That door was sealed tight," said Harold. "That air is stale."

"Look!" Gytha called and pointed to a glowing square of floor. Henri's white light had found something after all. "A trap."

"Obviously," Henri said with some contempt.

"Is that it?" Harold wondered aloud. He edged his way across the wall and around the glowing square. "There is room for us to pass, but do you think I should trigger this trap?"

"No," said Gytha. "The last time you ended up blocking off the other room."

"It could have a spell or some infernal mechanism that would be released when the trap is sprung," Ivo warned.

"Henri," Harold said to the cleric. "What does your spell say to you?"


Henri sniffed at such familiarity, "The trap is revealed, that should be enough. Only a fool needs to stick his hand into a hornets' nest to see if they will sting."