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171 lines
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| There Ain't No Justice |
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| #61 |
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- Throckmorton of Amber 01 -
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by Tal Meta
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(A story based entirely on an evening's AD&D play gone wrong!)
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Here is a tale of long ago, of three men, a drow and a gnome. They were
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known as The Five, and they battled great evils in their day. The leader,
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one Eric of Timal, was a Knight of Orange, a Torchbearer;his most trusted
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lieutenant a wizard from the Isle of Amber, one Throckmorton by name. The
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drow came next, on the rolls of their charter, called Psycho, Mistress of
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the Mind Arcane, and after her Waldo, of good Greyhawk stock, a
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wizard-priest of Boccob the Uncaring. Lastly came Heebie-Gebe, the gnome, a
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jouggler and rouge, given into their care as a reminder that they still
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owed a debt to the lords of that fair city.
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It was to the range known as the Dagger they travelled, an inspired quest
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laid upon them by Brand of Amber, to retrieve a tome of great power from
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the tomb of a once powerful wizardess, Iggwilv. So southwards they
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travelled, into the depths of the Triad, into Drynn itself, at the very
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beginning of the Change Years, unknowing they would return to an outside
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world greatly, well, changed. Yes, the ladies still ruled there and so our
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heroes travelled by night, not knowing the years and centuries that sped
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by as they travelled. Armies they avoided, and they did wonder if the wars
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were fought o'er the prize they sought. In due time they came to the end of
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their search, the Dagger Mts. , stretching away in the distance.
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In scouting the hills they encountered a community of gnomes, whom they
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befriended and gave succor to from a band of bugbears who had long ravaged
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the gnomish mines and farms. They chased the goblinoids far into the hills,
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finally burying them beneath an avalanche created by Throckmorton and
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Waldo. But the hillside they'd chosen was the backside of an ancient
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dragon's lair, and much ired was that elder worm at having his horde
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cascade down the side of a mountain. So ired in fact, that he took
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exception to the act, and attacked the Five where they stood. But
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unfortunately for that worm, the Five were no novice adventurers, as
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Electrolux the Ancient Blue Dragon might have noticed, had not the dust of
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the avalanche occluded Eric and Throckmorton's Dragonskin Cloaks, the
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traditional reward given to dragonslayers in those ancient days. Oh,
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Electrolux would still have attacked, mind you, as those dragonskin cloaks
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often drew the worst kinds of attention at similarily bad times, but at
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least then he would have had an idea what he faced.
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So the battle was joined, and even with its foregone conclusion, was a
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spectacle to behold. Energies were exchanged between dragon and wizard,
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blows and battle-cries passed between knight and wyrm. But in the end, the
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dragon was cut to pieces by wizard, knight and psionicist. And the
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riches!It would have taken a train of horses and wagons a mile or more long
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to have carted all of it away, but the Five were limited to what sensibly
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mobile adventurers might carry away on their packs and on their mounts. So
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it was gems and jewelry that they gathered, as well as a strange blue metal
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sword that Eric hefted high in his hand, leaving a national debt in coins
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and objects'de art behind. That night, in their shelter, they laughed at
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the picture of the first hapless souls to find all that wealth, and then
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even harder at the restless, greedy souls who had perished in its
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downpouring.
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At long last, it seemed they had come upon the entrance they had sought,
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only to see the obvious signs that some other group had discovered it
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first. A lone guard stood before the caverns opening, lightly dozing in the
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afternoon sun. About him milled four restless horses as well as two strange
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beasts somewhere between reptiles and horses. Psycho took the lead, doing
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nothing more than gazing intently at the guard. When at last he took notice
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of the group's approach, he met her eyes, and immediately collapsed to the
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ground.
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After checking the area right inside the tunnel, they awoke their prisoner
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and began questioning him about the strengths of his companions. Once
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having determined all the important facts concerning their opponents to be,
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Psycho adjusted the guard's memory, about several facts. He rode away then,
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in great haste, convinced that he had received a letter from his wife,
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saying she was leaving him. A terrible fate indeed for a man who had never
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married. It was hours later when they came upon not five but six bodies
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lying in pools of their own blood at the end of a dead end cave. One of
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those bodies, however, a female knight, still lived.
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They spent a small amount of their healing salves so that they might
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question her about what had befallen her party. They were cautious however,
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because their informant had not mentioned any female knights. And it was a
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great battle tale she told, full of marauding trolls and a strange,
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inhuman sorcerer. She broke off her tale, however, when she noticed the
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hilt of Eric's new sword. She showed great interest in seeing it, and even
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more when when he drew the now brightly glowing blade from his scabbard.
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Throckmorton, on seeing that blade now, began feeling a great unease. He
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grew more and more detached as Eric and the Lady Knight discussed the
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properties and history of that sword. But when the Lady named that blade as
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Demonbane, Throckmorton knew then what he must do. He stepped back, and
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hastily began the casting of his favorite spell. As the fireball blossomed
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behind him, he leaped as high as he could and curled into a ball, letting
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the explosion throw him further back down the corridor than his running
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leap could have alone. When he landed, he quickly stood and began running,
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running until he'd changed directions three times. Coming to another dead
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end, he cast a spell he'd learned early in his career, climbing the magical
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rope to the pocket of nowhere above, got inside, pulled up the rope and
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held his breath for a good long time. After a few minutes, things still
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seemed quiet, so he held his breath a little more.
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Demonbane. It would have to have been Demonbane. There had been no trolls,
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no sorcerer. Throckmorton knew that without a doubt. All the legends around
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that blade told long stories of death and dismemberment. Of, course, it was
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the demons who always suffered at first, but eventually they would come in
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force to reclaim the blade, as well as the heart of its wielder. And one
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other thing Throckmorton knew only too well, was that old Iggwilv had been
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a demonologist without par, and had summoned and bound numerous demons, as
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well as two demon princes. On just the chance they were still about, he had
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acted, and survived. For a little while at least. Demonbane. It was said to
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glow only in the presence of that which it was made to destroy, and the
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brighter the glow, the stronger or more numerous the demons. And that glow
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had been fiercely bright.
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A few hours later, he crept from the place he'd been hiding, and returned
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to where he'd almost certainly killed his friends. He felt no remorse, for
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death at his hands was certainly more mercifull than leaving them to the
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thwarted attentions of a captive demon prince. They were all there, burned
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beyond recognition. The blade was gone, naturally, so he gathered together
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their bones and made his way outside again. He made his way home again,
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across the new and different lands, coming at last to the city of
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Greyhawk, where he sought passage to Amber. Once home, he carried his
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burdens to the Grove of the Unicorn, and petitioned the druids there to
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clothe the bones once more with flesh and give them life again. That being
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within their power, (and with the donation Throckmorton made on their
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behalf), the Five were reunited once more.
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And what of the tome the Five had been sent for? Well unless some other
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group has looted that tomb, it lies there still. As does, perhaps, the
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sword Demonbane. But what of the Prince who guards it? Only the brave and
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the strong shall ever know for sure.
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ú ùþ ú
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ÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜ ú ù ú
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±±±±ÛÛÛßÛ²ÝÛÝÛÛÝþ Üú
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±²²²ÛÝ
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±±²²²ÛÜÜÜ
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±±±²²²²²²ÛÜ Phoenix Modernz Systems: 908/830-TANJ
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ÛÛ±±±±±±²²²Û The Syndicate: 908/506-6651
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ÛÛ±±±±±±²²²Û The Matrix BBS: 908/905-6691
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±±±²²²²²²ÛÜ First United Church Kalisti: 602/753-3784
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±±²²²ÛÜÜÜ The Cell: 817/870-1060
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±²²²ÛÝ
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±±±±²²²²²ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜþúÝ ù
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±±±±ÛÛÛßÛ²ÝÛÝÛÛÝþ Üú
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ÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜ ú ù ú |