RAWR – Part 3

RAWR: Expedition to Chult

• RAWR – Part 1
• RAWR – Part 2
• RAWR – Part 3

Professor Edfilus sat on his chair, silently contemplating the situation.  His gaze, lost in the darkness of his office, fell onto the collection of old religious treasures he’d gathered over the years.  Some items where faily young, like the great Wooden Horn of Klivera and the long dusty staff of Daflgan, and others were believed to be as old as the creator races, a time when a race of lizardmen ruled Faerun and had the humanoids as their slaves.

He was proud of his collection, and feared that this new piece he wanted – a crown from some dead religion – was all but lost to the jungles of the Chultan Penninsula. It was in the book – the book with the missing page – that a riddle would have helped in locating where this object rested.  Now it seems that his ex-apprentice stole the page, and Edfilus did not know what to do.

“Umm… Professor…?  Shall I cancel the mercenary summons?” asked Kristof.

Edfilus adjusted his spectacles and looked down at his gnomish assisstant.  He thought back to when he had begun planning this expedition to Chult.  At the time he’d sent word across Faerun to any potential mercenary or adventurer brave enough to go on such a trip, after all it was no hidden fact that Chult was a dangerous place.

The few survivors that came back from Chult often talked about the vast numbers of creatures and monsters that roamed the jungle, and some even said that the real threat was the jungle itself, as it could kill a man as he stood quietly among the trees.  And then there were the flesh eating plants, the large carnivorous bugs, and the resident Yuan-tis and Batari goblins.  Even the jungle water contained a surprisingly high amount of dangerous parasites that could infect anybody who drank its waters without boiling it first.

Only the bravest or the most foolish adventurer would step foot in such a giant death trap, and it only made sense to pay for sellswords. Payment wouldn’t be a problem, as Professor Edfilus had accumulated vast wealth over his youth. The crown would surley be a priceless addition to his collection and he was determiend to find it.

“No, Kristof, don’t cancel the summons,” said the professor after a long pause. “I believe I may have found a little extra job they can do for me before we depart for Chult…”

***

Twigs snapped underneath his boot as Zeraphin, former apprectice to professor Edfilus, trudged through the forest path.  He’d managed to leave Candlekeep before the professor found out about the missing page torn from the book, which was now neatly folded and tucked into his belt pouch.  He pushed a branch away with his hand, keeping a steady pace and periodically looking behind him for any signs of followers.

As long as I keep this page, the old fool won’t know where to go, and he’ll stay right where I want him to be, he thought to himself, a large grin on his face.

Zeraphin finally arrived at a clearing from where he could see both his home and a few pitched tents.  At the centre of the tents was a campfire, surrounded by some large thugs who were enjoying what little meat they had been able to catch for their meal. The thugs gave a quick glance to Zeraphin as he passed through the campsite, heading towards the band leader.

“Axiom,” Zeraphin said dryly, “are you and your boys paying any attention to the surrounding area? I don’t pay you to goof around you know.”

The leader of the cutthroats put down his ale, stood up from his log and walked over to Zeraphin rubbing his bushy beard

“Oy, don’ ye be worryin’ now bucko. Me an’ mah boys got this place covered good. Ain’t no’ne gonna be showin’ up here without us knowin’,” the thug said proudly.

“Very well, but has anyone passed near here while I was away?” Zeraphin asked.

“Aye, actually: one kobold. Didn’t last long, we took care o’ ‘im pretty easy. Strange though, this one ‘ad black scales ‘e did.”

The mention of black scales caught Zeraphin by surprise as it was quite unusual.  Nonetheless the thugs had done their jobs and killed the creature, though a look at the corpse might answer some questions.

“Hey, Axiom,” Zeraphin shouted, “What did you and your men do with the corpse anyways?”

“Heh, let’s just say ‘e got invited fer dinner” Axiom answered, jerking his thumb backwards to where his men were eating a slab of meat on a spit over the campfire.

“Well..*ahem* good,” Zeraphin felt his stomach churn. “Well, I’m going to head home. Remember, let no one come close. Stab first, ask questions later, got it?”

“Aye, I gots it boss, though yer soundin’ a wee bit paranoid. Ye expectin’ some unwanted company soon?”

“Perhaps…” Zeraphin said, looking suspiciously at the trail he’d just taken through the woods.

***

The former apprentice’s house wasn’t really a house more than it was a broken-down ramshackle of a house that had seen better days.  Nonetheless, it served its purpose well, and that was to allow him to work without the curious eyes of the people of Candlekeep watching over him.

Zeraphin entered the house and headed towards the bedroom, sitting down at a small desk by his bed.  He bent down, deactivated a trap and unlocked the desk’s drawer, opening it slowly. From it Zeraphin took out a small book, then closed it, relocked it, and rearmed the trap.  He then turned around, walked back out of the house and to a small hut outside.  As he searched his pocket for the key to the hut, remembering how he’d lost one of the two keys while carrying supplies.

I must remind myself to search for that extra key to the aquaduct door, Zeraphin thought to himself.

His thoughts shifted to Professor Edfilus, who would probably have chastised him about loosing things and being absentminded.

Bah! I will show him how powerfull I will be, just you wait and see old man! Just you wait… Zeraphin thought, unlocking the door and entering the small hut.

The inside was quite dusty, with cobwebs in every corner, but otherwise the place was empty, except for a lone staircase that led downwards into darkness. With the help of a light spell, the former apprentice headed down the stairs, arriving at an aquaduct.  Even with the light spell the area was dark, and the air was heavy with the smells and sounds of rats and other critters that inhabited this place.

Zeraphin, however, was not afraid as he had explored this aquaduct when he first came upon this place. He’d spend hours down here, inspecting every turn and every corridor, and, to his surprise, had eventually found the entrance to an old temple of some forgotten god. Zeraphin didn’t really care about the history of the place, but the temple itself would serve as a good lair for his purposes, and he was releaved that he would only have to use the house for basic accomadations.

The mage walked about the aquaduct and came upon the entrance to the temple.  Pulling an empty sconce, he activated a revolving brick wall that lead to the Temple.

Whoever build this must have enjoyed using the old cliche of the secret door with the sconce trick, he thought to himself.

There was much of the small temple that Zeraphin had not explored, and secrets that had yet to be untouched, but Zeraphin was not concerned about all of this. His first goal was to hinder Professor Fernbud Edfilus, and eventually kill him when he grew powerfull enough. Everything else around him could be delt with at a later time.

Before heading to the room he set himself as his personal study, Zeraphin headed down a hall and checked on the small dungeon cell he made for his special ‘guest’. The mage got to the door and slid open a small hatch, his eyes looking down upon it’s occupant.

“It seems my hired blades stumbled upon some of your friends outside. A pity they now roam in their stomachs.”

The prisoner kept her silence, which irritated Zeraphin greatly.  He slammed his fist on the door in anger and rose his voice: “Any rescue attempt will ultimately lead to failure! Your allies, they will all fail! Your predictions are wrong, oracle…”

The apprentice heard a raspy laugh within the cell.  As he peered into it through the hatch, he could see a shadow figure within it. It spoke, its voice sounding like an old crone.

“The black scale ones are hardly what I call friends, foolish human. They and their master have their own interest in me.  But no, these are not who will release me form this temple. Your concept of friend and foe is twisted. You will come to realise your misconceptions.”

Zeraphin sneered.

“Oracle, you try my patience. When we first met you told me great power was in my future,” he said.

“And is that why you’ve kidnapped me?” she asked, adding: “You cannot hold me forever.”

“Whether you escape, live or die, it matters not to me. Edfilus shall suffer, that I promise, as I have started by sabotaging his life’s work,” Zeraphin said holding out the ripped page to the small hatch.  “Whatever he is after, I am sure it will be much better in my possesion and eventually, I shall gut him like a fish and watch his entrails spill. Then everyone in Candlekeep – nay, everyone in Faerun – will bow down to me and respect my great power. You see, the gods are on my side this day: great power WILL be mine!”

The oracle scoffed, which, she knew, bugged Zeraphin.

“I only keep you here until your usefulness comes to an end,” he said slamming the hatch closed and walking back down the hall.  “Once I am done with you, the boys outside will most likely be ready for another snack. ”

As the mage’s footsteps grew distant, the shadowy figure in the cell shook her head.

“Great power will be yours,” she said, “and you will wish you’d never had it.”