Snow and Brumbar ignored his grumbling, but the two men lent to the company by the Emir of Bylos did not. Instead, they jabbered at him in dahlese and covered their lips with a finger.
Snow interpreted. "They say that we should talk less because this is a place for the sleeping dead."
Rojer clapped his hands together and the sound of it echoed in the crypt. "Exactly! I hate that every time I seem to get some coin in my pocket, I end up with you two in some place forsaken by man and gods alike and trafficking among the dead."
Brumbar peered ahead in the darkness. "There is only one God, Rojer."
"Tell that to the cat worshippers upstairs," said Rojer.
Brumbar's light was the magical sword in his hand. In its radius the company could see a line of alcoves. Each housed the corpse of a member of the Nazeer tribe and each was guarded by a poorly made statue, purported to be the likeness of the deceased.
"You're blaming us?" Snow asked. "I thought you wanted to help clean the emir's basement up."
"That was before big, blond and righteous attacked the vizier," insisted Rojer, motioning to Brumbar.
Brumbar shrugged. "He was evil -- I felt it."
That's another thing, grumbled Rojer. "Why are we always fighting people and things you call evil? If I call someone evil, no one jumps into battle swinging swords and casting spells on my say so."
Brumbar shrugged again.
Rojer turned to Snow. "What was that spell you cast, anyway? When Brumbar and I were swinging swordmetal, I saw you waving your hands and playing hocus pocus."
Snow intoned, "You wouldn't understand if I told you." He pushed his way to the front of the line and set off in the lead.
Brumbar waited a moment or two so his light wouldn't disrupt Snow's elven vision, then set off after him. Rojer came closely behind. He waved for the two Southrun men to follow.
Rojer poked at Brumbar's back. "I think we both know what spell it wasn't!"
Brumbar said, "It wasn't a bolt of electricty."
Rojer agreed. "No, it was not."
Brumbar added, "I didn't see any ice balls."
"Me neither," said Rojer.
Brumbar said, "The only flames I saw were coming from the vizier at my face, so..."
Rojer interupted, "Flame proof loin cloth?"
Brumbar turned and faced Rojer. "It was minor globe, I asked him."
"Minor globe?!?!"
"That's what he said."
"That's nossing crazy... what's that one do?"
"No idea," said Brumbar, but if I had to guess its a lot like flame proof loin cloth."
"Maybe we need us a real wizard," ventured Rojer. "Someone who can go toe to toe with a..." the knight stopped a scratched his chin. "What the hell was that thing?"
"I think you have it exactly right," said Brumbar, "Something from hell."
"Did you see how it's skin melted off after you punched it in the face?"
The two men stopped suddenly, for they came upon Snow, bent low and rummaging around in an alcove. His movements were furtive and hurried.
"Drop something?" asked Brumbar.
"Looking for secret doors," intoned Snow.
"I don't think the Nazeer hid their entrances behind dead bodies," the paladin said dryly.
"Just look at this," said Snow, his eyes lighting up as he withdrew a Westrun longsword from the crypt before him. "Bright and shiny as the day it was forged. You can bet this one is magical."
"Dibs," said Rojer, suddenly.
"Put it back," said Brumbar. "Men of reknown are buried with their treasures. It belongs here with its owner."
"Aren't you a wizard?" asked Rojer, watching Snow admire the sword and ignoring Brumbar.
"I am many things," the elf replied.
Just then, the two Southruners bringing up the rear began to gesture and whisper wildly. Rojer watched them and then turned back to Snow. "Jibber and Jabber don't like it, either. I think Brumbar is right. Let's just find the slime passage and blow it with the black sand."
"I'm not keeping it," insisted Snow. "I am checking it for signs of a way out."
Brumbar coughed.
Snow returned the sword to the alcove and brushed the dirt from his knees. "Neither of you are schooled in the magical arts. I can tell things from inanimate objects that you can only dream."
"Minor globe again?" needled Rojer.
Snow set his jaw and turned to go. "We're pressing on. You too need to give me more room. The paladin's sword is making it hard to see." With that he stepped again into the darkness and disappeared from view.
Brumbar grabbed one of the two Southruners by the shoulder and tried his best to communicate with the man in hand signals and whispers. "You can see if he thiefy?"
The man Rojer called Jibber only smiled nervously.
Brumbar pressed his fingers into the man's biceps. "You go looky. You watch. If he takey. You tell. Okay?"
The man nodded and smiled again. Brumbar propelled him in the direction that Snow had gone. He waited a few heartbeats and then set after both of them slowly.
"Why is our scout, our wizard and our interpreter all the same guy?" Rojer tapped his forehead. "We don't plan so good. That's why."
Brumbar said, "I just know he's taking things from the dead."
Rojer shrugged, "Well, it's not like they need it."
Brumbar shook his head. "We left Shepherd whatshisnuts up there. Trust me when I say there are things worse than the city of skeletons we fought in the Provinces. Without a true Holy Man of God we may find ourselves beset by dark forces."
"Aren't you a knight for the church?" asked Rojer, somewhat nervously.
"It's not the same. I can be effective against some things, but against the big nasties, we'll soon see how effective I am not."
They walked a hundred or more steps in silence before Rojer spoke again.
"I got a question."
"What is it?" asked Brumbar.
"Why is it that you are only powerful when it comes to ruining a good time? What kind of God does that? Makes you just powerful enough to avoid getting drunk and visiting whores, but not powerful enough to fight big nasties."
"Don't be sacrilegious," advised Brumbar with a hiss. "I thought you were trying to straighten out and get yourself right with the church."
"I will," promised Rojer, "But this is the ass end of Southrun and I don't think God hears us down here. When we get back to Westrun, I am turning my life around. Right now, I gotta be honest, I am still hoping to get some face to face with the emira."
Brumbar sighed audibly and continued forward.
Rojer reached up and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. All these people have been properly buried. I don't think we have to worry about them waking up."
Just then, Jibber stepped back into the light and motioned them forward, whispering urgently in dahlese. For the first time, Brumbar noticed that the Southruner's fingers were covered with brass rings.
Suddenly, Brumbar woke with a panicked start and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Gone was the crypt and his companions. Save Snow, they were consigned to the dream world he left on his pillow. The elf was still with him, in the opposite bed, in their shared room at the Boulder. Even in the darkness Brumbar could make out his head on its pillow.
"Snow?" said Brumbar.
"What is it?" Snow asked. It was always hard to tell if the elf were truly sleeping.
"A dream," said Brumbar.
"Not a good one, by the sound of it."
"I dreamt of Rojer."
"Poor bastard," said Snow. "Don't worry, there are spells for turning people back to flesh from stone."
"Maybe."
"I've been meaning to ask you," Snow said.
"What?"
"Why did you punch the vizier in the face last night?"
Brumbar shrugged. "Just like I told, Rojer. He was evil. I felt it."
"But we can't go punching all the evil we find. The world is a big place. He might have been a bad man, but he was only showing us how to find the crypt."
Brumbar shook his head, "You're only mad you don't have someone to teach you more of your dark arts."
"If I'm mad it's because we lost Rojer fighting that... thing."
The two men fell silent. Brumbar pictured the petrified knights face. The memory of the vizier's staff turning into some kind of salamander and biting Rojer was still vivid.
"I dreamt we were down there today and Rojer was still alive."
"He is alive," said Snow. "He's just... harder... than normal."
"I dreamt we were... you were..." Brumbar felt his voice trail off.
"What?" said Snow, rising up on one elbow in the darkness.
"I dreamt you were stealing from the dead."
"Oh," laughed Snow. "That's good."
"Good?"
"Yeah, good."
"Why is that a good thing."
Snow sat all the way up. "Because it will never happen. I am a lot of things, but I don't steal from the dead. That's... that's not me."
"I still don't see why its good."
"It's good because if that was your dream and that isn't going to happen, we have nothing to worry about. When we go down there to seal the slime passage."
"Oh."
"Go back to sleep, Brumbar," advised Snow before laying back down. "We have a lot to do today."
"Yeah," said Brumbar. He sighed and swung his legs back under his blanket.
No comments:
Post a Comment