rest in peace.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Gnash, rolling his eyes. “Get to the interesting part. What do you do with the armor and the swords? Sell ‘em as souvenirs?”
Flannery reached into his pocket and pulled out two shiny steel coins. He handed one to Yarl and one to Gnash. Both examined them. The coins were marked LORD CITY PALANTHAS on one side and BANK OF PALANTHAS on the other.
“Yeah, so?” Gnash said, fingering the coins. “You get a little money from selling old weapons.”
“Must be about twenty copper’s worth of old weapons out there,” said Yarl, disgusted.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Flannery said. “We don’t sell the armor for coin. We melt down the armor and the swords and use the steel to make coins. I minted both those coins you’re holding in your hand.”
Yarl gasped. “You… you make your own money? Can you do that?”
“We can, and we do,” said Flannery. “We work for the Bank of Palanthas.”
Gnash thought this over. “Then how come everyone’s not running around making their own money out of old armor?”
“Excellent question, my friend. The reason no one else does it is that steel is extremely difficult to work with. I have developed a magical powder that I add to the steel that causes it to melt at a much lower temperature than normal.”
Flannery pulled out a bag and opened it. Inside was a fine, gray powder. “I use just a pinch. Can’t waste any magic. Not these days. After the steel is melted, I pour the steel into sheets and then use that machine you see over there to punch out the coins. A good sword or piece of armor makes a surprising number of steel coins.”
Flannery motioned at the dwarf to open the iron padlock on the chest at the rear of the wagon. Digger frowned and looked at the old man questioningly, but Flannery gave him a reassuring nod. Shrugging, Digger opened the chest for the brothers to see.
Gnash and Yarl peered inside. The chest was full to the brim with steel coin, all gleaming and freshly minted.
Gnash stared at the man in disbelief. “Are you telling me that you have a wagonload of steel coins, and you’re all alone out here with nothin’ but a dwarf for a bodyguard? I don’t believe it.”
Jumping to his feet, he grabbed his sword hilt and looked about, as if expecting a huge warrior to leap out at him at any moment.
“I assure you, we are quite alone,” said Flannery.
“Then why tell us? We’re really bad guys, you know.” Gnash and Yarl both scowled ferociously. “You know we’re gonna have to kill you now and take all your money.”
“I’m afraid that’s a risk I have to take,” said Flannery with a hint of sadness. “You see, I tell you this because I need your help. I was trained as a cleric of Paladine-”
“We don’t think much of clerics,” growled Yarl, rattling his sword in its sheath.
“Oh, I’m not a cleric anymore,” said Flannery hurriedly. “It’s because I was a cleric of Paladine that I am able to bury the dead Solamnics and dead elves with the proper sacred rituals. But I’m in a bit of quandary when I come to the bodies of those who died in the name of Queen Takhisis. I can’t bury them with the proper rituals so that they will sleep the sleep of the dead, which means that I can’t take their armor. I’ve been hoping I’d run into someone who would understand the proper procedure for burying the dead of Queen Takhisis. Now you gentlemen are here, and you might be able to help me. Besides having my utmost gratitude, I’d be glad to pay you, of course.”
The brothers looked at each other. They couldn’t believe this old man was so foolish. But then, their parents had been the same way. Always prattling about trust and loving your neighbor and all that rot.
“You’re gonna pay us all right,” said Gnash tersely. “As for buryin’ dead guys, we’ll see to it that we bury you both nice and proper.”
He yanked his sword out and pressed the point of his blade to Flannery’s breast, then glanced over at Digger. “You, dwarf, start shoveling that steel into sacks. I want to know how much we’re going to make for this night’s work. Make it quick or you’ll get to see me start cuttin’ pieces off this old man.”
Flannery gave a slight nod. Digger started to count out stacks of steel coins.
Flannery looked down his nose at the blade that was pressed against his chest. “Nice weapon. A little rusty, but still in good condition. How much did you pay for it?”
“It cost him forty steel up north,” Yarl answered proudly. “It’s a really good blade. I got one too.”
Flannery touched the edge with his finger. “Sharp. Know what it’s worth?”
Gnash sneered. “Yeah, it’s worth forty steel.”
Flannery shook his head. “I reckon I could make sixty steel coins out of that blade this very night. And I could make another sixty out of your armor.”
Gnash’s jaw sagged. “Sixty! I only paid twenty-five for the armor!”
“Now you see why I’m in this business,” Flannery explained. “You could rob us, of course, and kill us into the bargain, but in truth you’d be cheating yourself out of a lot more money. Whereas if you help us, I’ll cut you in for a share of all the armor of the Knights of Takhisis.”
Outside the wagon, night had fallen. The pattering of rain stopped. Inside, the dwarf halted his money counting and turned around.
“You really mean that?” Gnash asked eagerly. “You could make our armor and blades into a lot more money than they’re worth?”
“And if we help you dig up dead Knights of Takhisis, we get a share of their armor, too?”
“It’s not so much the digging up we need help with,” Flannery explained-a tad reluctantly it seemed. “It’s the putting back into the ground that’s giving us problems”.
Gnash and Yarl looked at each other. The old wizard was talking riddles again.
“What do you say? The standard contract for services rendered?”
Digger reached into his shirt and drew forth a sheaf of parchment. He held it forth temptingly.
“I know what I say,” Gnash said to his brother.
“It tops the reward for Mom and Pop,” Yarl agreed, eyeing the steel coins in the chest. Leaning close, he whispered, “Besides, once we learn the trick of that there powder, then we can kill them both anyway.”
“Smart thinking, little brother,” whispered Gnash admiringly. Lowering the sword from Flannery’s chest, Gnash thrust the weapon back into its sheath. He reached down to undo the buckle of his sword belt.
“Just a moment,” said Flannery, raising his hand. “Remember our bargain: product given for services rendered. Tell me the ritual for burying the dead of the Knights of Takhisis.”
“Some mumbo jumbo about commending the souls of the dead to Takhisis for all eternity,” said Gnash, not much interested. “That’s the important part. The Gray Robes say that settles ‘em. There’s wrapping of cloth and incense and candles as such if there’s time. Spooky waste of time, if you ask me.”
“Thank you!” said Flannery with a deep sigh. Lifting his hand, he held it over the heads of the two brothers. “And I commend your souls to Takhisis for all eternity.”
Swords, sheathes, belts, buckles, chain mail and helmets made a sharp banging and clattering sound as they all hit the floor. For a brief instant, two skeletal figures stood staring at Flannery, a flicker of enmity in the hollow, empty eye sockets.
“Product given for services rendered,” Flannery reminded them sternly.
“Standard contract,” said Digger Cutterstone, exhibiting the paper.
The skeletons collapsed in a heap of tangled bones onto the pile of metal that had once, thirty years ago, been their armor.
The dwarf and the old man stood looking at the remains.
“That was a close one,” said Digger.
“Indeed it was,” said Flannery, wiping sweat from his face with the sleeve of his robe. “We must be more careful next time. But at least now we know that part about commending their souls to Takhisis. Seemed to work fine.”
The wagon rolled off the next morning, heading for the site of the next battle-Chaos War, War of the Lance, it didn’t matter. There were enough battlefields to keep Masters Flannery and Cutterstone busy for the rest of their lives.
