The Companions of Tartiël (4 page)

After dinner and a bath, Kaiyr and Caineye waited in their room for Wild to return from his bath. Earlier, the halfling had privately caught the druid’s attention, too, indicating that he desired a private meeting with both of them.

“What the hell is a fire-trapped door doing in your main hall?” Wild demanded of Father Cobain, bursting into the library, where the priest was transcribing holy writings.

“Oh, my,” Father Cobain said apologetically, setting down his quill. “So, you found it.”

“Well, duh,” the irate halfling went on. “I put my broom down for a moment and lean against the door for a breather, and
fwoosh
!—down comes fiery doom on my head. Seriously, is it that much of a crime to take a break?”

Cobain shook his head. “I am sorry, Mister Wild. That door… well, I was told never to open that door, despite it being in the main hall. Supposedly there is something of great power—and danger—behind it.” He steepled his fingers in front of his nose, his elbows on the desk before him. “I would appreciate it if you did not go poking around that door, or the one opposite it. Both are potentially lethal.”

The man’s tone changed, and he smiled gently. “Luckily, the spring where we bathe is actually empowered with positive energy. Go and bathe in its waters and it will heal your burns in mere minutes.”

Wild huffed a sigh of resignation. “Well, all right. Sorry for causing such a storm.”

“Not at all,” Cobain replied softly as the halfling returned the way he’d come.

Once the halfling had retreated down the hall, the smile fell from Cobain’s face. “Go,” he commanded the empty room. “You know what to do.” From the shadows, a dark figure coalesced into the form of a large rat that scurried across the floor, disappearing around the corner. “I’m so sorry you found that door, thieving halfling,” Cobain murmured. “And as I know your kind’s penchant for curiosity, I can’t let you find out what’s behind it.”

III.

“Now
that
is interesting,” Wild said as he rounded the corner and stepped into the room the travelers shared. He wore only his pants, carrying his towel and shirt over one arm.

“What is?” Caineye said, taking the bait.

“Check this out,” the halfling said in a low voice. “I was burned by a magic trap, but the water in that spring healed me right up. Look, not a mark!” He spun around once, showing the other two his tiny body.

Kaiyr gave Wild a concerned look. “A magical trap? What are you talking about?”

Wild looked at the other two. “Do both of you speak Elven? I guess it’s a given for you, Master Kaiyr. Anyway, we might have a better chance of not being understood by the resident clergy if we speak something other than Common.”

“I do,” Caineye said, “Though Sylvan or Draconic might be even better.”

“No good,” Wild sighed.

“I can speak any of the three,” Kaiyr said. “But it is already settled. Let us discuss this in Elven.”

Wild’s face turned dark, and he switched to the Elven language. “I think there’s something fishy going on here. First of all, one of the doors in the main hall, you know, where everyone comes in, is trapped so that anyone trying to open the door gets his ass toasted nice and crispy.”

“I shall not ask you why you were trying to open a closed and locked door, but do go on,” Kaiyr said, glancing about the room.

Wild nodded his thanks. “But have you two noticed anything strange about this place? It’s too… perfect, too sterile, in a sense. And the brethren are ever so nice to us, but they don’t talk about anything meaningful. I asked the one of them about his family, and he started going on about the flowers in bloom. So I asked him about his favorite book. Even that he avoided answering. And they kept us away from each other all day.”

Something caught Caineye’s attention, and the druid strode to the bed, reached under, and pulled out a rat by the tail. It was no ordinary rat, however, being more than two feet long. “And,” said the druid with a certain edge of vindictiveness, “we have a rat in our midst.”

Kaiyr and Wild both gave surprised shouts as the rat twisted and snapped at Caineye. The druid dropped the creature on the floor as Kaiyr summoned his soulblade into being and brandished it. Vinto growled but stayed back at a motion from Caineye, and Wild drew a dagger from its sheath.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, the rat’s shape changed, elongating and then rising to become one of the acolytes residing at the church. “A wererat!” Caineye warned everyone.

The rat-turned-man made a mad dash for the exit, dodging between Kaiyr and Wild on his way out through the open door.

*

“Open door?” Matt exclaimed, incredulity in his expression. “Bullshit, Dingo. Bullshit. Why was the door open?”

Dingo looked at him like he’d just been told the sky was blue. “Because you guys didn’t say you closed the door.”

Matt rolled his eyes, and I silently reflected the sentiment. “Dude, we said we were having a
private
conversation. Why the hell would we leave a door open for that kind of business?”

Dingo just shrugged. “Well, you did. And it’s too late to go back and retcon
^[5]
it.”

“Seriously, Dingo,” I piped up. Xavier remained stoically—and typically—silent, unwilling to fan the flames. “First we accidentally starve ourselves, now we leave ourselves wide open. Come on, man. Don’t pull that kind of shit.”

The DM raised his hands. “Hey, I’m the one calling the shots here. Deal with it.”

“All right,” I conceded, “Can we make a new SOP? Like, whenever we’re heading into our private quarters, especially when talking with other party members about delicate topics, we close the door—and lock it if we can?”

“Sure,” he replied, and the other guys nodded their accord. “From now on, I’ll assume that unless you specify otherwise, you’ll close doors when you go into your rooms. Anyway, getting back to the game, it’s your turn, man.” He looked at me expectantly, and I trained my gaze on the little figurine representing my character.

“Argh, damn me for being a lawful good character,” I growled, looking at the mat on the floor. We used a laminated grid with one-inch squares to mark our positions on maps we drew in washable markers, each square representing five feet in the game. In this case, the map was of our characters’ room.

“Jeff,” Dingo said hunkering down in his chair, “You’re the only one who has the initiative to act right now. Caineye’s already taken his turn, and Wild won’t go until after the wererat’s next turn.

I hesitated, weighing my options. I could have struck at the wererat with my character’s soulblade. That, unfortunately, wouldn’t have done much more than piss the guy off, considering my damage potential was only between two and seven. If I got really lucky and rolled a critical
^[6]
on the guy, I might have had a chance at taking him down, but with a ten percent chance of that happening, I wasn’t willing to bet on that.

I didn’t think my character was in a killing mood, anyway. We had just discovered a naughty kid hiding in our room, but he hadn’t attacked us and was just trying to get away. The “getting away” part wasn’t going to sit well with me, though. Then a brilliant idea formed in my head, and I grinned at Dingo. He gave me a frightened look at that as I reached down and moved my figurine next to the token representing the wererat.

Clapping my hands together and folding them, I happily announced, “I grapple him. And, since he’s in human form and unarmed, he doesn’t get an AoO
^[7]
on me.” I picked up my d20.

*

Kaiyr darted forward, releasing his grasp on his soulblade. The weapon blinked out of existence as the blademaster dove on the wererat in a headlong tackle that sent them both sprawling to the floor. “Subdue him,” the elf grunted as he tangled the foe in his robes and began battering him about the head with his fists.

Caineye joined the fray in short order as Wild kicked the door closed, and they soon had an unconscious human sprawled on the floor. Kaiyr rose and smoothed out his robes and midnight-blue hair. “Has anyone any rope?”

“I do,” Caineye said, reaching for his satchel. Kaiyr nodded toward the naked man on the floor, and the druid needed no more urging, quickly binding the human. Then the two taller folk picked him up and set him on one of the beds.

“This changes things,” Kaiyr said evenly, folding his arms across his chest. “Wererats. I know a little of them. Evil creatures, for the most part, but their state of being is not entirely their fault.”

“Do you think he was trying to get out and report to his master?” Wild asked, putting emphasis on the last word.

Kaiyr nodded. “Ready yourselves for battle. It is time we had a talk with this one’s master, and I believe I know who it is.”

Caineye and Wild nodded, the former pulling out a sling and loading it with a stone, then readying his shield in his other hand. Vinto stalked toward the closed door, growling.

“Vinto, stay back,” the druid said calmly. “We don’t know what’s out there, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Kaiyr watched as the wolf returned to Caineye’s side, his teeth still bared. “It is my duty as a blademaster to protect you, Masters Caineye and Wild. I shall take point.”

The party moved out into the hall. Kaiyr’s keen eyes could pierce the shadows with a clarity above and beyond that of the human or the halfling. Taking great pains not to be heard, they stalked down the corridor, stopping at the entrance to the main hall. But their stealth was in vain; it seemed they were expected.

“I see you’ve dealt with one of my underlings,” Cobain said, sneering at the group. “I’m sorry, but I can’t have the three of you meddling in such important affairs.” Vinto growled as though upset at having not been counted as part of the group. “Your curiosity will be the death of you all. Get them!” As one, the brethren changed shape in a grotesque display. Joints popped, and fur sprouted over their bodies. Cobain underwent a change as well, but his final form was more fearsome than that of the others. Where the acolytes turned into half-rat, half-human monstrosities, Cobain took on many of the trappings of a wolf with silver fur that glinted in the moonlight streaming in the windows. “Leave none alive,” he growled, his voice gravelly and full of the promise of death.

*

“Oh, shit,” I swore, looking at the battle grid before us and not seeing much chance of survival. “Wererats I can deal with, but a werewolf?” I looked at the other guys and mouthed, “We’re fucked,” at them.

“Dingo,” Matt said, throwing down his pencil. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” the DM replied. “Roll initiative
^[8]
.”

We did as directed, but I wasn’t done yet. “Dingo, you do realize that werewolves are CR
^[9]
three creatures, right? We’re only level one. We shouldn’t be fighting these things for two more levels. Hell, and they have DR ten-silver
^[10]
. I don’t think any of us can even hurt this guy. I know you said you run challenging games, but this is just
brutal
.”

Xavier shook his head when I looked at him. “I could use
produce flame
, but I’d still have to hit, and it only does a dee-six plus one damage. Whoop-dee-doo.”

“Guys,” Dingo said sharply, grabbing our attention. “Look, just go with it and don’t worry about everything. Remember, I’m the DM, so I can change rules whenever I want. I realize werewolves are tough creatures. Just remember I like to challenge you guys, not completely fuck you over.”

We all gave a collective sigh. “All right,” we all said in some fashion or another.

After writing down our initiative results, Dingo looked at me. “Kaiyr, you’re up.”

*

Kaiyr darted forward, manifesting his soulblade as he closed with Cobain to shut down what was obviously the largest threat. His soulblade gleamed with furious, pure white light reflected from the moonlight-washed room as he took a measured swing at the creature. “Take the others out!” he shouted in Elven. “I will hold Cobain here!”

“Go!” Caineye commanded Vinto, and the wolf sprang forward to meet one wererat in battle, claws and teeth slashing and biting. The druid muttered a string of brief prayers, and when he snapped his fingers, a ball of fire appeared in the air above his hand. Pointing at one of the other wererats who was still finishing his transformation, Caineye released a bolt of flame that ripped through the air and burned a long black mark down the enemy’s flank.

“We’re outnumbered seven-to-three,” Wild called, and Vinto let out an angry bark. “Okay, seven-to-four. Still not good.” He flicked his wrist and sent a dagger twirling through the air only to watch it brush by the scorched wererat and clatter against the wall. “Damn.”

Kaiyr had his hands full defending himself against Cobain. He was glad to have had the wisdom to take only a careful offense at first. With the frequency and lethality of every one of Cobain’s attacks, the blademaster couldn’t afford to be hit even once. Having opened with a strong defense was the only thing keeping him alive right now. As Vinto tore out the throat of the wererat he had been fighting, Cobain stepped forward with a low claw that Kaiyr parried with a deft sweep of his soulblade. But then he realized too late that the strike had been a feint. Cobain’s head snaked in, and his fangs tore through the blademaster’s sleeve and into the flesh between the end of his chain shirt and his bracers.

Kaiyr grimaced in pain, and for one split second that seemed to drag out into hours, he felt something strange course through him. He felt a sudden longing for the moon, which shone ever-so-enticingly brightly tonight, and he wished nothing more than to run alongside Cobain in a more natural form, hunting prey and living as a predator.

Then the blademaster’s training took over, and he realized what was happening. He couldn’t afford to become a werewolf himself. Willing his body to fight off the magical disease, Kaiyr felt the mystical influence of lycanthrope leave his body and fade away completely.