The giants and ogres shivered as the weird sisters began their chant, feeling as if they were being watched. Something wrong, not of this oerth, was coming, some horrible thing that sent chills down their spines. They were utterly helpless before it, and they could feel it looming before them, something that promised infinite menace, attraction and horror all at once.

Chapter Eleven

Degrees of Separation

Seline screamed as she fell into the pit. She soon landed on a smooth stone slide, that began carrying her down to the gods only knew where. Raising her staff, she tried to slow her descent by holding it out against the walls of the pit, although it did her little good.

As she held on tightly to her staff, Seline realized that the pits and the slides were not meant to kill. They were meant to divide any invading forces, making it easier for the Bearded Lord’s Hollow’s defenders to kill them.

That was hardly a comforting thought to the young wizard.

Finally, the stone slide dropped Seline into a square room of worked stone. Landing on her feet, she stood up and glanced around. All four walls bore torches, and one of them contained the opening to the stone slide. The wall opposite the one containing the slide opening held a thick wooden door, while the walls to either side contained small alcoves.

Seline was surprised to see Revafour standing in the middle of the room, his huge sword in his hands. She realized that Revafour must have fallen into the same sliding pit she had, landing ahead of her. The tall Flan glanced over his shoulder at Seline as she came up to join him.

 “Are you alright?” Seline asked Revafour.

“I’ll live,” Revafour said, his exposed face still red from the scalding steam they’d been blasted with in the cave above.

Seline realized that her face was likely just as red as Revafour’s. She felt as though she had been boiled alive, shaking her head as she tried to block out the pain.

“Do you know what happened to the others?” Seline said.

“They probably fell through some of the other pit traps,” Revafour said. “Damn it all! They knew we were coming and they prepared for us,” he said, shifting his gaze back towards the room’s single door.

“It’s not over yet,” Seline reminded him determinedly. “If we have to do it alone, then-“

“You don’t need to tell me that,” Revafour said without looking back at her. He swallowed once, as though his throat was dry. His voice was ice-cold, and for a moment Seline felt a chill of fear run down her spine.

“I will-“ Revafour said, before the door burst open and three large figures stormed in.

Two of the new arrivals were ugly, hulking things almost ten feet tall, with dull yellow skin and bright glinting eyes. Clad in crudely stitched hide clothing, the two creatures each carried a thick club ringed with sharp, cruel spikes. Seline and Revafour had both fought ogres before, and they would have been happy to never see the cruel, disgusting creatures again.

The third figure was a different matter. He resembled nothing so much as an oversized human, for all that he was nine feet tall and bore an impossibly large moustache. He reeked of alcohol, his nose was reddened from excessive drinking, and his armor and clothes were stained with beer and wine. His eyes also seemed somewhat odd, as his left one was lower than it should have been and his right one higher. It didn’t take Revafour or Seline long to recognize him as a verbeeg. The verbeeg were the smallest race of giants, but they were just as hateful and sadistic as many of their larger relatives.

“Jus’ the two of you?” the verbeeg said with a sneer. His voice was thick with alcohol, as he hefted his axe in his hand. “Whadda letdown. Maybe I shouldn’a brought Plughugh-Bumpahnood’d be quite enough, I suppose. Hell, I coulda taken ya both myself!” he burst out laughing, as his moustache twitched weirdly.

Glancing back at Seline, Revafour gestured with his head to the alcove in the wall to their left. Slowly, she began inching towards it, alarmed by the look in Revafour’s eyes.

“You think it’s that easy, do you?” Revafour replied, hefting his sword in front of him. “Then why don’t you try and see?” he said, his voice never losing its icy calm.

“Oh, we will!” the verbeeg, said, before he laughed triumphantly. “Plughugh, Bumpahnood, kill’em!” he said.

“Aye, Humding!” the two ogres said, leering as they charged forward.

Seline now ran full-out for the alcove. She managed to reach it just before Revafour charged over and stepped between her and the ogres, preventing them or the verbeeg Humding from reaching her. Concentrating, Seline began to cast a spell, as Revafour confronted the ogres.

If Revafour felt any fear, he did not show it.

In truth, Revafour wanted to laugh. There were only three of the monsters, after all-and they thought that they could win against a Tenha warrior? What kinds of fools were they? He heard Seline chanting, and he might have told her not to bother, but his throat was already too dry. He felt the battle-lust rising within him.

Bumpahnood attacked first, swinging its club down at Revafour, but the Flan warrior easily swung his sword up to deflect it. The huge broadsword seemed like an extension of Revafour’s arms, moving with practiced speed as Revafour knocked Bumpahnood’s club aside and struck back. He tore a long gash in the ogre’s arm, his sword continuing on to cleave into the ogre’s chest. Gasping in pain, the monster stumbled back, its hide pants suddenly dark with blood.

Plugugh came in from the side, swinging his club at Revafour’s head. Revafour quickly dodged it and struck back before Plughugh could get its defenses in line. Plugugh stumbled back, managing to dodge Revafour’s attack before the Flan warrior’s sword would have cloven it in two.

“You call that an attack?” Humding said to goad his minions, Revafour and Seline smelling the booze on his breath, although he made no move yet to join the fray himself. “Are you ogres, or halflings?”

That taunt enraged Plughugh and Bumpahnood, and they charged once more at Revafour. However, Seline quickly completed her spell, conjuring a sphere of glowing flames in her hand. She threw the flaming sphere past Revafour and began gesturing to direct it. The sphere burned the ogres’ legs, causing them to howl in agony. Plugugh swung at the sphere, but Seline quickly moved it away from his strike, before bringing it back to burn the monster again.

Bumpahnood ignored the sphere, instead charging at Revafour. The ogre brought its club down in a brutal strike, but Revafour’s sword was there to meet it. Pushing back against the ogre, Revafour held his own against its superior strength, before he suddenly gave way and leapt off to the side. Bumpahnood had a clear path to attack Seline, but it was stumbling forward, completely off balance. Revafour struck before Bumpahnood could recover, bringing his sword down in a vicious slash and taking the ogre’s head from its shoulders.

Revafour brought his sword back up to meet Plugugh’s charge. The ogre had given up trying to hit Seline’s sphere, and struck at Revafour instead. It slammed Revafour in the chest, causing the Flan warrior to stumble. It raised his club to attack again, but before he could Seline’s flaming sphere burned its feet yet again. Seline caused her sphere to roll up Plugugh’s legs, causing it to scream in pain.

Seline’s fiery sphere brought Revafour the time he needed to recover. Striking at the reeling Plugugh, Revafour nearly cut it in two.

Revafour barely had time to catch his breath before Humding suddenly attacked. The verbeeg blocked Revafour’s blow with his axe and struck back, tearing into Revafour’s abdomen. Seline burned him with her fiery sphere, but Humding quickly stomped it and snuffed it out. Revafour tried to strike again, but Humding kicked him aside. The brutish giant turned back towards Seline, who now found herself trapped in the alcove.

“And wha’do you think yer magic can do, lil’ one?” he grinned wickedly, briefly licking some of Revafour’s blood off his axe. “D’you think you can stop me in time?” he leered, as he charged in to strike her down.

Expecting Seline to cast a spell, Humding did not expect her to stick her staff out to trip him. Stumbling over her weapon, Humding fell to his knees as Seline quickly darted past him. Turning around, she hastily chanted a spell. A series of magical bolts streaked from Seline’s fingers, blasting into Humding and causing him to cry in pain.

No longer amused, Humding sprang to his feet and turned around. Murder was in his eyes as he raised his axe and charged at Seline, but her efforts had given Revafour the time he needed to recover. Stepping between Humding and Seline, Revafour swung his sword at the giant in a titanic slash. His sword ripped deep into Humding’s torso, before catching on the giant’s spine.

Humding couldn’t even scream before he fell dead.

Grunting with the effort, Revafour put his foot on the giant’s chest and tore his sword free. Pained by his injuries, he staggered as Seline ran up to him in concern. Hastily reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a bottle of dark-blue crystal. Quickly uncorking the bottle, she poured the contents down Revafour’s throat. He felt a wonderful soothing sensation flow through his body, as he realized that his bleeding began to stop. Even the pain from the steam burns began to fade.

Taking a deep breath, Revafour used Humding’s hair to clean the blood out of his sword, while Seline went to retrieve her staff.

“Are you alright?” she asked in concern. She was alarmed by the dangerous look she still saw in his eyes, but fortunately the look soon began to fade.

“I…I’ll live,” Revafour said. “And you?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Seline said, although she winced in spite of herself from the scalding of the steam. “I’m more worried about the others.”

“They probably fell down some of the same pits we did,” Revafour said as he headed for the door. “We won’t find them just by staying here.”

Seline quickly followed, although the worries she had felt about the look in Revafour’s eyes continued to linger at the back of her mind. 

“Damned clever pit trap,” Amyalla said, as she and Weimar looked around the room the slide had dropped them into. “The orcs probably rigged it like this so they could divide and kill their foes more easily.”

“The old divide-and-conquer trick,” Weimar said. “And they wouldn’t do lethal traps. Why would they when they could butcher the invaders in person?”

“And yet we don’t have anyone here to welcome us,” Amyalla said as she looked around the room. Torches flickered on the walls, and a large wooden door was fitted into the wall opposite the one containing the opening to the slide, but the room seemed otherwise empty. There were no tripwires or pressure plates on the floor that she could see, so the walls…

“What do you know?” Weimar asked Amyalla, tightening his grip on his battleaxe.

“The walls,” Amyalla said, only half-listening to Weimar. “Do you have a lantern?” she said after a moment. “I need the extra light for a better look.”

Nodding, Weimar set down his axe and shield to retrieve the lamp from his backpack. He handed it to Amyalla, who lit it as Weimar retrieved his axe and shield.

“Keep your eyes on the door,” Amyalla said to Weimar as she walked around the perimeter of the room, examining each wall in turn. Finally, she came to the door itself, and studied it carefully.

“They think they’re clever,” Amyalla said, more to herself than to Weimar. Setting Weimar’s lantern down next to her, she lifted up her skirt. Weimar was surprised to see a collection of lockpick tools in padded pockets tied to Amyalla’s garters. The halfling gathered several of the tools, before she let her skirt fall back into place.

In spite of himself, Weimar swallowed hard.

Looking back at him, Amyalla smiled in amusement.

“I didn’t think you’d be the prudish type,” she said, taking pleasure in the way Weimar’s cheeks were flushing in embarrassment. “It’s a suitable hiding place, don’t you think?”

Turning back to the door, Amyalla began picking the lock. She worked for several minutes, before she stepped back and nodded for Weimar to take the lead. She put her tools back in her garter pockets as Weimar reached out to open the door.

“Why were you walking around the room like that?” Weimar asked Amyalla as they set off down the dimly lit corridor. Weimar led the way with Amyalla following close behind, Weimar’s lantern in one hand and a dagger in the other.

“Some of the stones in the walls of that room were actually thin panels with spears behind them,” Amyalla said. “There was a device in the door that would cause the spears to fire if the door was opened. I managed to disconnect it from the door before I had you open it.”

Weimar only harrumphed at that.

“What, you’re not grateful that I just saved you from being impaled?” Amyalla asked.

“Of course I am,” Weimar said, peering into the gloom ahead. “I’m just offended that they didn’t send any of their minions to greet us.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll get our chance,” Amyalla said. “The torches down here aren’t well maintained-it’s likely that they don’t come into this part of the complex much, and they deliberately rearmed the traps. Speaking of which, you’ll want to stop moving.”

“What?” Weimar asked in alarm, as he glanced down the corridor. He cursed as he saw the tripwires ahead of him.

“Anything else in your bag of tricks?” Weimar said, looking back at the halfling.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Amyalla said with a smirk. She picked up a loose stone lying near the wall and tossed it forward. The stone struck the tripwire and caused it to vibrate violently. Weimar threw his shield up in alarm, but he found he had no reason to worry. A pair of scything blades came tearing out of the walls ahead, before sliding back into the slits in the wall they emerged from.

“If you’ll allow me,” Amyalla said, stepping ahead of Weimar.

“And how did you know that the tripwire wouldn’t have affected us from where we were standing?” Weimar pointed out, as Amyalla set his lantern down and lifted her skirt again to retrieve her tools.

“The trap was meant to activate when someone hit the tripwire,” Amyalla said as she set to work. “It’s hardly likely that a tripwire would activate a trap for someone standing ten feet behind it, especially considering how much room we’d have to dodge. I mean, honestly!” she said with an amused smirk.

Weimar was tempted to shoot something back at her, but he contented himself with an amused smirk of his own.

When Luna and Airk landed in the passage, it didn’t take them long to get their bearings. Looking around, they saw that they were in a corridor of worked stone. The walls were lined with flickering torches that provided light to see by, although it was dim indeed for Luna.

“Where are we?” Luna asked Airk as the gnome got to his feet and picked up his military pick and shield, which he’d dropped when he landed.

“A corridor where the passages are leading in the same direction as the cave above,” Airk said in surprise. “Why in the Nine Hells would they do that?” he said.

The loud stomping sounds and the shadows approaching on either side gave the woman and the gnome their answer. One of the shadows belonged to a large, hulking ogre, coming down the corridor ahead of the companions. The other shadows belonged to yet another huge ogre, as well as a slim verbeeg with sandy-blonde hair and a refined, almost aristocratic look about him.

“The better to surround you with, I should say,” Bruddelmort the verbeeg said, as Airk and Luna raised their weapons. “I take it that you’re not all that pleased at being outnumbered?”

“Not pleased at your being a coward, more like,” Airk said, gesturing with his pick in a challenge.

“Please,” Bruddelmort smirked, as the ogre standing next to him raised his flail. “Do you seriously think me vulnerable to such taunts?”

Suddenly, Luna turned back around to face the ogre she and Airk had first seen.

“Flee!” she cried, as the holy symbol around her neck glowed brightly. Immediately, the ogre looked at Seline, and then at Airk, and retreated screaming down the corridor. Airk’s exchange with Bruddelmort had given Luna the few seconds she needed to cast a quick spell on the ogre, causing it to flee down the corridor.

Shouting in anger, Bruddelmort raised his sword. He charged forward, followed by his lone remaining ogre henchman, as Airk and Luna came to meet them.

Luna deflected the ogre’s first flail blow with her shield, quickly striking back and whacking the ogre in the side of the head with her mace. The heavily built monster hardly seemed to feel it, however, swinging his flail once again and forcing Luna to duck. She struck back again with her mace, this time catching the ogre on the hip, but again her blow didn’t seem to have much effect on the ogre.

Airk and Bruddelmort were caught in a fierce duel, with neither one seeming to be able to gain the advantage. Bruddelmort proved to be remarkably skilled at deflecting Airk’s blows, choosing the best moments for his strikes. Airk cursed, realizing that the verbeeg was all too aware of the disadvantages giants often encountered against gnomes. The gnome swung his pick at Bruddlemort in a vicious sideways slash, expecting the giant to deflect the blow with his shield, but instead Bruddelmort stepped back. As Airk’s blow cut through the air between them, the giant brought his sword down, slashing Airk viciously.

Airk managed to avoid the full force of the blow, but Bruddlemort’s sword tore a nasty gash along his shoulder and arm. Scowling angrily, Airk struck at Bruddlemort’s hip, ignoring the blood that flowed from his wound.

If Bruddlemort displayed finesse with his sword, the ogre Boondoo was simply brutal. It swung his flail wildly in its efforts to crush Luna, but its clumsy strikes left him wide open to her counters. Unfortunately, although Luna was constantly bruising the big lummox, she could not seem to bring its down. Once again, she deflected a flail blow with her shield, but the sheer force of Boondoo’s blows were causing her arm to go numb. Luna lowered her shield arm long enough for Boondoo to strike her painfully in the hip, causing her to reel in pain. To make matters worse, Luna could hear the booming footsteps of the ogre she had force to flee coming back up the corridor. Unfortunately, the spell she had cast was only good for about a minute, and even monsters as stupid as ogres would quickly recover from it.

Airk heard the ogre’s footsteps too, and knew he had to act fast. The gnome smiled inwardly as the blow he aimed at Bruddelmort‘s hip with was blocked by the verbeeg’s shield. Bruddelmort brought his sword down once again, and Airk raised his own shield to deflect it. Sensing his opportunity, Bruddelmort lashed out with his foot, hoping to knock Airk off balance. Airk’s eyes gleamed as he quickly lashed out with his pick and pierced Bruddelmort’s foot. The giant howled in pain and pulled his suddenly bloody foot back, leaving himself vulnerable.

Airk didn’t waste the opportunity. Lashing out again with his pick, he tore a series of bloody gashes into the giant’s torso. Bruddelmort reeled in pain, and Airk sprang straight up into the air, lashing out with his pick and tearing into Bruddelmort’s eye. The gnome’s pick left a long gash down Bruddlemort’s face, and the giant turned to flee.

Spadull, the ogre Luna had cast her spell on, caught up to the melee. Raising its club, it charged at Airk, even as the gnome turned to face it.  Leading with his shield, Airk blocked Spadull’s club and quickly struck back, piercing the monster’s foot with his bloodstained pick. The monster cursed in pain and Airk pressed the attack, this time using his pick to pierce the ogre’s knee. Once again, Spadull cried out and swung its club at Airk, but the gnome easily ducked under its pitiful attack and resumed tearing into the ogre with his pick.

Blood and sweat mixed all over Spadull’s body as he tried one final strike. Airk almost casually blocked it and struck out one final time with his pick, ripping Spadull’s throat out. The ogre collapsed like a toppled tree, falling back with a great crash.

Boondoo tried to press his advantage against Luna, but the young woman stubbornly struck back, praying to Pelor for luck. The sun god seemed to answer her prayer, as her mace struck the ogre squarely in Boondoo’s weapon hand. She heard the satisfying crunch of cracking bones, as the ogre dropped its flail and cried out in pain. Taking a deep breath, she lashed out once more with her mace. This time, Luna struck the dumb brute square in the face. Boondoo merely stumbled back before it fell dead, slumping against the corridor wall.

Airk and Luna both leaned against the wall to catch their breath, weary from their exertions. The injuries they had suffered in the fight ached abominably, and they were still scalded from the burst of magical steam they’d suffered in the cave above. Luna felt like she was going to faint, but she remembered her duty. Putting down her shield and mace, she moved towards Airk, chanting softly as her hands began to glow with a golden light.

“Not me, you,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re the one with the healing spells, girl-if you go, then there’s not much the rest of us can do.”

Luna, still chanting, seemed as if she wanted to refuse, but the angry look on Airk’s face convinced her otherwise. She placed her glowing hands on her own hips, welcoming the warm feeling of relief as her injuries healed. Airk looked at her with concern, but she nodded and smiled at him.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Luna asked Airk as she bent down to pick up her mace and shield.

“I’ll live,” Airk said. “It takes a lot more than that to kill me.”

“Pity about the weather in that upper cave, though,” Luna said to Airk as they began running down the corridor in pursuit of Bruddlemort. “No wonder you hate the rain so much. Just as much as I do, I wager.”

“More than that,” Airk said with a smile.

“I could do without the confined spaces, though,” Luna said, frowning at the passage all around them.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it in time,” Airk said, waving away her concerns. “You don’t need to worry, my dear-this is all firmly worked stone that won’t cave in, I can assure you. In fact, I don’t even think this was built by orcs-more likely it was done by dwarves or gnomes, who the orcs eventually drove out of here.”

Luna relaxed considerably at that.

She mouthed her thanks to Airk, who just smiled back.

Ma’non’go looked around as he rose to his feet, and found that he was alone. He clenched his trident even more tightly, only hoping that Luna and Seline would be alright. Somewhat to his surprise, he found his concern shifting to Weimar, and then to the tall Flan man, the gnome and the halfling who had joined them on this strange venture. The two women he had sworn with his life to guard were still his primary concern, but the idea that any of the others might suffer at these monsters’ hands did not sit well with him.

The torches on either side of Ma’non’go cast long shadows as he walked down the corridor, looking all around him for traps or threats. His ears were what alerted him to the threat, however, as he heard the footsteps up ahead. Raising his trident, Ma’non’go slowed his pace as he saw a large figure emerge from the shadows. The figure was a large verbeeg with a tangle of wild hair and a matching beard, carrying a large sword and clad in chain mail armor. The giant seemed particularly pleased to see Ma’non’go, and a wide, evil smile crossed his face at the human’s arrival.

“Just you and me then, darkling?” the giant Nicknarn said with a smile. “So much the better that I sent the ogres away-not that I need them to deal with a darkling, of all things!”

Ma’non’go felt a seething rage at the giant’s slur, and his eyes gleamed dangerously.

“Got nothing to say, darkling?” Nicknarn said. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway, not when you’re going to die. Would you like that, darkling?”

The slurs angered Ma’non’go by themselves, but the giant’s arrogant, condescending tone filled him with rage. He simply gestured with his trident, beckoning the giant to attack.

Nicknarn whooped eagerly and charged, swinging his sword wildly. Ma’non’go twisted out of the way and thrust back with his trident, but Nicknarn quickly stepped back and avoided the worst of the blow. The glancing blow Ma’non’go struck was absorbed by Nicknarn’s mail, and the giant wasted no time in retaliating. Ma’non’go thrust his trident up this time, catching Nicknarn’s sword in the tines, and flexed his muscles as he pushed back. Verbeeg were the weakest of all the giant races, and their strength could be matched by determined humans. Such was the case as Nicknarn kept pushing, but failed to make any headway against Ma’non’go’s resistance.

Finally, Ma’non’go released the pressure and leapt back, causing Nicknarn to stumble forward. Ma’non’go immediately came forward again, raking at Nicknarn with his trident and tearing several long gashes into the giant’s torso. The giant lashed out with his foot, forcing Ma’non’go back. Nicknarn slashed with his sword, but Ma’non’go surprised the giant with his speed. He quickly avoided the worst of the blow, suffering only a small gash in each of his arms.  Charging forward again, he plunged his trident deep into Nicknarn’s arm and tore a long line of blood, ripping through the sleeve of his chain mail as if it was made of parchment.

Howling in pain, now holding his sword awkwardly, Nicknarn leapt back and tried another strike, but Ma’non’go was ready. Raising his trident, Ma’non’go smiled wickedly as he drove it into the giant’s chest, impaling the monster up to the handle. The Olman’s muscles rippled as he forced his trident upwards through Nicknarn’s chest, tearing a hideous gash that eventually ripped the giant’s throat out. Nicknarn was already dead by the time he slid off Ma’non’go’s trident and collapsed on the floor.

Ma’non’go could only smile to himself at Nicknarn’s death. He’d occasionally heard similar comments about the color of his skin from people in the eastern Flanaess. More than one of the speakers had then made further lewd comments about his relationship with Luna and Seline. Usually, Ma’non’go only needed to give them a beating to make them realize the error of their ways and apologize for their rudeness. When monsters like giants or werewolves said similar insults, Ma’non’go was quite willing to resort to a more permanent solution.

Sprinting silently down the passage, Ma’non’go only regretted that none of his companions had been there to witness the scene.

The weird sisters were not pleased to see the ogres Droolord and Hahaduh, sent back by that arrogant fool Nicknarn, come back to them. Nor were they pleased to see the badly injured Bruddlemort return, either. The sisters realized that the adventurers intruding on their lair were more powerful than they had at first expected, and that they needed to make preparations.

Nodding to her sisters, Dorbella pulled a scroll from a pouch at her belt. It was an old scroll, the ultimate prize from one of their earliest victims. The scroll was scribed with powerful spells, and the sisters had used almost all of them, save for the most powerful one. This was a crisis, and the sisters knew that they could not afford to take these new threats likely.

The giants and ogres shivered as the weird sisters began their chant, feeling as if they were being watched. Something wrong, not of this oerth, was coming, some horrible thing that sent chills down their spines. They were utterly helpless before it, and they could feel it looming before them, something that promised infinite menace, attraction and horror all at once.

Two of the creatures came at their calling, and the looks on the creatures’ faces showed how eager they were to feed. The monsters could not stay on this oerth for long, but they would last long enough to be able to feed. That knowledge made them all the more eager to fight, and even moreso to kill.