Imagination is everything…
RAWR – Part 3
Sep 26th
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.”
RAWR – Part 2
May 22nd
The gnome’s footsteps echoed on the dry floor of the great library of Candlekeep as he walked by a handful of scribes, a large tome tucked under his arm. As he passed them, he studied them from the corner of his eye. Some had their noses buried in books, others were dipping their quills in ink and scribbling on their papyrus papers. The gnome quickly figured they were but the common scribes he saw here everyday, and didn’t pay much heed to them otherwise.
As the little humanoid walked down the hall, he came to a door. He scratched his white beard, adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat, and finally turned the door’s knob, causing it to creek open. Behind the door was a small study, where a man sat at a desk. The desk was cluttered, covered in a great number of papers, some of which had obviously fallen to the floor a while back, but had yet to be picked up. On the corner of the desk was a candle in purple wax, which the gnome suspected was magic, as it never seemed to melt.
The man at the desk sported grey hair, a grey beard, and spectacles similar to the gnome’s own. He wore the types of clothes a school teacher or tutor would wear, not robes like most of the clerics of Oghma – the god of knowledge – wore within the walls of the great library. He was focused on the pages of a book, reading with much interest, all the while reaching towards a nearby silver platter and grabbing some cheese and crackers. As he munched on the tasty snack, a small mess of crumbs came falling towards the floor.
Looks like I have an extra mess to clean up tonight, the Gnome thought to himself, letting out an annoyed sigh.
The man finished his crackers and quickly took a sip out of a small cup of tea that sat on the desk. He swallowed a few gulps of the warm liquid, put the cup back on the desk, and spoke up.
“Kristof, my dear lad,” the man said without taking his eyes away from his book. “Can you tell me the translation for the phrase Umbago mowi! Mukta cho-cho?”
The gnome cleared his throat and pondered for a second.
“Yes sir, professor Edfilus. It’s an old Batiri goblin insult – almost goblinoid – but the Batiri tribe in Chult have different languages and pronunciations than their cousins around the Sword Coast. Much like how the ancient Mezzroans had their own dialect, despite the fact that the lot of them spoke common.”
“Yes, of course your are right, but I knew that part already you silly old coot,” Fernbud Edfilus replied annoyed. “What I’m asking, my dear gnomish friend, is what do the words themselves mean?”
“Well,” Kristof though aloud, “it might have something to do with the insult’s recipient’s mother and a herd of animals, though I’m not quite sure, as my Batiri is quite rustic I fear.”
“Bah!” the professor scoffed, “I suppose I’ll look it up later. This library should have a few books to help me with the correct translation. For now, however, I am reading this exciting part about goblin mating rituals and the similarities it shares with the Yuan-ti. Written by Volo himself no less!”
The professor’s enthusiasm with the subject matter made the gnome grin. As the professor’s assistant, his life revolved around helping the old man with his research, yet there were some parts of the job Kristof felt he just didn’t need to know, and the study of goblin mating rituals was just such a thing.
“Err..professor,” the gnome coughed loudly, hoping to change the subject, “I brought the book you requested.”
At the book’s mention, Professor Edfilus jumped to his feet, slamming his tome shut onto his desk.
“Well why didn’t you say so in the first place man! Bring it, Bring it! We can finally begin our expedition! Ha-hoo!”
Kristof brought the book to the professor, who snatched it from the gnome’s hands in one quick swoop. He opened the book, dust flying through the air, and excitedly flipped through it’s pages, reading through random sections. At each section, he let out an approving grunt, nodded his head, and quickly moved on. He did this several times, and finally stopped at one of the sections, his eyes open wide in surprise.
“By Oghma’s brain, Kristof! A page has been ripped from the book!”
Kristof looked up at the book, and saw what was without a doubt a missing page.
“Oh my,” the gnome said, “do you have any idea what was on this page?”
“Yes, this page contained a riddle that would’ve guided us to the prize we seek,” the professor answered, obviously annoyed.
He sent his assistant to fetch one of the library keepers. In a few minutes, Kristof was back in the office, a robed man standing at his side. Professor Edfilus quickly showed the man the page.
“You see Orfunix, the page was ripped from the tome,” Edfilus said, distraught.
“Tis strange that a page would be missing from this tome,” the keeper replied, scratching his head in confusion. “I remember the time this book came to our possession years ago and I’m quite certain that all of the pages were intact. And I can assure you, professor, that you were the only one who requested to view this tome since it was brought to us. No one else looked for this book…but…”
“But what, my good Orfunix?” asked professor Edfilus.
“Now that I think of it, I do remember seeing your apprentice looking our collection of Chult tomes today. It was strange, I must admit, as I went to greet him and he brushed me off rather rudely.”
“My apprentice?!” The professor shouted, surprised.
“I’m sorry sir,” Kristof spoke up, confused, “but didn’t Zeraphin’s apprenticeship with you end recently?”
Both the gnome and the book keeper looked at the professor as he slowly laid back in his chair and nodded, rubbing his bearded chin in deep thought with a worried look on his face. Yes, the apprenticeship had ended, but the people at Candlekeep were not privy to the whole story.
The professor thought back to when Zeraphin had started his apprenticeship. How he had high hopes for the young lad, who showed the makings of a great archaeologist and mage just like himself. After some time, however, Zeraphin had started to become impatient and uncontrollable, stealing one of the professor’s artifacts from his home collection. The item, a jeweled skull with dangerous necrotic powers, was never quite understood by the old man, nor was its power’s trusted. Old Fernbud Edfilus knew one thing for certain though, and that was that he could not tolerate theft.
Things didn’t stop there, however, as the professor caught his apprentice practicing necromancy on a few occasions. Edfilus had had his own experiences with the dark magic, and had vowed never to explore it or let anyone in his charge learn it. And there had also been the odd prophets who had cornered the young boy in one of the library wings, accusing him of carrying a darkened heart. Though he felt sorry for the boy, the professor felt there was something to the prophet’s accusations.
In the end, the professor had no choice but to expel Zeraphin from his apprenticeship, and now, sitting on his chair behind his desk, there was no doubt in his mind that the boy had overheard of his plans. Whether the young lad was looking to sabotage them, or to go it alone, the professor didn’t know.
Without that page, the page that had been ripped from the tome Kristof had brought, the professor knew his expedition to Chult was doomed.
RAWR – Part 1
May 6th
Clutching the bamboo tube as best he could, the goblin ran as fast as his little feet could carry him. Huffing and puffing, he tried his best to get ahead of his pursuer, which was crashing and smashing through the jungle behind him. Scared, the goblin zigged and zagged, running up and down a fallen tree, jumping over a small creek, and bolting forward into the wild foliage. He soon arrived at a large tree, and quickly hid behind it. As he listened, he no longer heard the crashing of the trees, and breathed a sigh of relief while assuming that what hunted him down had given up. The little goblin sat down and took a breather. He closed his eyes and thought back to what had transpired a few hours ago.
He remembered how, in the blink of an eye, he had assassinated a tall human hidden in robes. At the time he was most certain it was a spell caster, though it didn’t really matter anymore. The human had been guarding the precious package he was sent to retrieve – the bamboo tube the goblin’s chieftain had been so adamant about – so he had removed the obstacle by leaving his blade its face. He now felt some regret, realizing that the blade would most definitely have been useful in his current situation, though he seriously doubted his small dagger would do more than just lightly scratch his stalker’s skin.
The goblin suddenly opened his eyes as a loud roar shook the ground around him. He whimpered, quickly jumped to his feet and ran, disappointed that he hadn’t lost his stalker. His feet slapped on the humid jungle ground as he passed wild brambles and other foliage, a thunderous thumping sound following him close behind. He could feel the ground increasingly shake with each step as the large creature gained on him. He felt its breath on the back of his neck, and heard it grunt as large trees in its path snapped like mere twigs. Though he was determined to deliver the tube intact, the goblin was now panicking now. Yes he feared the rampaging jungle beast behind him, but he feared his tribe’s punishment even more if he failed in his task.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, the goblin’s toes smacked into a fallen log. Taken by surprise, he lost his balance, tumbling to the ground and dropping the tube. Quickly getting back on all fours, the goblin scuttled against the ground, going after the precious bamboo stick as it quickly rolled away from him. He plunged forward and stretched his arm as much as he could, clasping the tube in his hand.
The goblin rolled a few times as his body hit the ground. He finally came to a stop and sat upright, kissing the tube and thanking his tribe’s god, all the while completely ignoring the quietly approaching predator. By the time he heard a loud snorting sound behind him, it was too late. Shaking, the goblin turned to see two large eyes staring him straight in the eye. The tyrannosaurus rex stood very tall, stomping around his helpless prey like a cat playing with a mouse. The goblin shrieked, turned and ran again as the T-Rex defiantly roared and ferociously snapped at him, missing him by less than a hair.
The goblin was getting tired, though he somehow always remained one step ahead of the T-Rex. Panting heavily, he looked for a place to hide, and quickly spotted a large tree stump with a hole big enough for him to squeeze through. Without thinking twice, the goblin rushed towards the opening as the T-Rex snapped at his back end once more. Flying through the air, the goblin’s feet pushed against the large dinosaur’s closed jaw, throwing him straight into the tree stump with a thud.
Disoriented, the goblin scratched at the inside of the tree, pulling himself as far back as possible. The tyrannosaurus rex impatiently paced about, snorting at the ground, tying to find where his prey had gone to. The beast roared once, and a second time, and finally let out a disappointing growl as it turned to head back the way it came. As its footsteps became fainter and fainter, the goblin quietly remained motionless, holding his breath and cradling the tube near his chest.
After several minutes, the goblin poked his head out of the tree and looked about, not seeing any sign of the large two legged creature. Dropping his guard, he sighed in relief. At last, he could deliver the package without being bothered by a large hungry beast interested in making him it’s dinner.
The goblin jumped as he felt a painful sting on his arm, causing him to drop the bamboo tube. He looked down to find a large flesh eating insect burrowing its head into his flesh. He growled and pulled the bug out, his blood splattering around the inside of the tree. He threw the insect to the ground and quickly stomped on it with his fists.
Now he was the predator!
The goblin hooted in victory, unaware of the large swarm that had been attracted by the scent of his fresh blood. As he turned to pick up the tube, terror filled his face as thousands of large, beetle-like insects came crawling out of the stump’s crevices and onto his body. He had heard tales in his tribe of such insects, who hungered for flesh of anything that was living or dead.
The goblin rubbed his arms and legs trying to fight the swarm off, but there was too many of them. As he panicked, one of the insects crawled from behind his head and skittered towards it’s face, heading for one of the goblin’s wide open yellow eyes. The chittering predator quickly burrowed its sharp claws straight into the goblin’s eye like a piercing dagger.
Screaming in pain and terror, the goblin’s body shuttered as the beetle chewed on the soft innards of his eyeball with it’s sharp mandibles, blood slowly making its way down the goblin’s cheek. Quickly, he tried to get his bearings, looking for the hole in the stump through which he’d made it in, but his good eye could only see one foot in front of him, and all he saw, wherever he stepped to, were more of the flesh eating insects.
They eventually overwhelmed the goblin, the entire swarm of flesh eating beetles covering his entire body like a body bag. Not even his death throes and screams could be heard simply for the fact that many of the beetles entered his mouth as soon as it was open. As they chewed on his fleshy body, they ignored the bamboo tube that lay at the bottom of the stump.
It was a harsh lesson to learn, that even though he had escaped a predator, he mereley ended up in the path of another…
Such is life in the jungles of Chult…
