close to the Justicar,holding up each piece of armor so that the ranger could see just what a proper adventurer carried into peril.
The Justicar had provided himself with an oilskin sheet that he spread over himself and the faerie. Escalla had made herself a bed inside the Justicar’s backpack, and both slept safe and sound amidst the random spatter ofcondensation from on high. Cinders sat propped upon a pile of rocks, his eyes gleaming on unwinking watch. When anyone inside the camp made the slightest move toward the ranger or the faerie, a ghostly, half-heard canine growl would ripple through the air.
Of the entire party, only Escalla and the Justicar slept well.
On the final day of approach, the Justicar once again took the lead. A pathway of sorts existed-a rough-cut road flanked with moss-furredstatues of Keraptis himself. The sorcerer’s bifold mask was weathered intosenile imbecility and pockmarked with fungi. Jus used the statues as stepping stones to climb up and avoid bends in the switchback trail, guarding the party from ambushes as they trudged and struggled along the slippery stone road.
By evening, they had reached a flat plateau upon a shoulder of the mountain. The sun had begun to set, shining wine-red through the mists of sulphurous spray. With fat, stinking droplets raining down upon their necks, the party trudged upward through a darkening maze of rocks, dark pools, and shadow.
The road ended in a pile of moss-slimed ruins that might once have been a villa or a vast, impressive gate. A cave stood fifty yards away-anarrow cleft that hissed out a long blast of steam. Shuddering like a giant’sbreath, the steam suddenly halted. There was an indrawn sigh as air sucked slowly back into the cave-a minutes pause-and then the outrush of steam slowlybegan again.
Breathing slowly, with its mouth fanged by slime, the cavern lay in wait for its visitors. The whole mountain seemed plotting and aware, as though unseen shapes flickered through the distant rocks.
The mountain was waiting….
Moving almost invisibly through the rocks, the Justicar approached the cave mouth from one side and carefully searched for enemies. He slithered to the ground only when the steam blasts proved themselves to be cool and the molds and slimes harmless. With Escalla at his side, he stooped and ran gloveless hands over the thin mud outside of the breathing cave, rubbing the muck thoughtfully between his fingertips.
“Mud. Boots have broken the soil crust and let the steamintermix. Probably yesterday.” The man carefully wiped his hands clean upon histhighs. “This cave has had someone walk in but not walk out.”
“How do you know they didn’t walk out?” The faerie blinked.“The depth of the mud? Marks in the soil?”
“There’s only one way down the mountain. We would have foundthem walking down the road.”
“Yeah! Hey, you’re pretty good at this.”
The Justicar helped Escalla to her feet and said, “It’s aranger thing. It’s what we do instead of parties.” He turned and signalled therest of the party, shouting to be heard above the hiss and roar of steam. “It’ssafe! This is our way in!”
The explorers gathered. Dripping fangs of algae framed the tunnel mouth. Wincing, Escalla stared at the entrance as it slowly breathed a dragon’s breath of steam. She took one little pace away from the cave, nervouslyfluttering her wings.
“It doesn’t look… so bad.” She gave a fragile littlesmile, then made a ladylike curtsy to the paladin. “Hey, after you!”
The faerie fluttered upward and swatted Cinders on the skull.
“Cinders, you suck in much more of this sulphur and you’llstart to worry me!”
“Yeah, whatever.” The girl took another look at the cave,watching the steam now slowly breathe back into the sinister mouth.
The Bleredd priest threw Escalla a sneer. “You’re afraid ofgoing in?”
“Hell, no! I just feel like cranking up a few spells.” Thegirl preened herself, drawing proudly erect.
The Justicar remained standing beside the edge of the tunnel. He brushed at a strangely shiny patch of the rock. Sir Olthwaite strolled over beside him, his hands clasped regally behind his back. The man peered at the strange carvings uncovered by Jus’ glove.
“What have you found, sir?”
“A welcome mat.” Jus wiped clean an inscription burned intothe stone. He sniffed in annoyance as he read the words aloud.
“Adventurers, come one, come all,
And enter the accursed halls.
Find the weapons, seek the prize.
The weak will rot-the strong survive.
The most worthy will attain the bliss
Of union with Keraptis.”
Escalla slumped.
“Oh, great.” The girl gave a dire look at the inscription.“Nothing I like more than being used as a test subject by a guy who thinksrhyming couplets are actually fashionable.” The girl gave an irritated sigh.“I’m not sure I can deal with this sort of stuff without a good eight hours ofbeauty sleep.”
The Justicar looked at the setting sun, gazed out across the plain, then turned his gaze to the damp, tired adventurers. After a long, silent stare at the other party members one by one, he jerked his chin toward the tangled stones down the road.
“She’s right. Rest. Eat. Sleep.” The man turned away from thetunnel. “We’ll make a better job of it tomorrow.”
Despite resenting his orders, the group walked a hundred yards back down the road. Amidst the pieces of a fallen statue of Keraptis, they made camp and shielded their miserable little stove from view.
Polk’s sensibilities were offended by the overall mood ofsuspicion and gloom. The night before a great adventure was supposed to be a time for tales and splendor. The man ground jerky between two helmets and cooked up a surprisingly good stew, even managing to make a fresh, tasty flatbread upon a stone.
The Justicar ate, raised an eyebrow at the man, and slowly put his meal down. After a moment, he managed to make his sense of natural justice rise to the top.
“Polk, you did well.” The Justicar fought a grumble back downwhere it belonged. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Polk sniffed and fixed a dour gaze upon theJusticar. “So are you ready, son? Have you prayed to your patron gods to givestrength to your avenging sword? Have you written a poem to a lady love? Have you readied parchment to make a map?”
“No.”
Annoyed by Jus’ total lack of proper sentiment, Polk wentback to improving the morale of the adventurers. Smiling a nasty little smile, the Justicar rubbed his hands, pleased to be irritating one of the irritants at last.
A guard roster was set, and the party bedded down. Sleeping beneath Cinders’ watchful gaze, Escalla and Jus wedged themselves into therocks and tried to get some sleep.
After three solid hours of tossing and turning, Escalla grumpily sat up. With her hair hanging all over the place and her mouth tasting like an old bird’s nest, she scratched herself in places where the sun seldomshone and looked blearily off into the dark.
The damned volcano geyser was drizzling mist all over the campsite yet again. Holding Jus’ backpack above her as a roof, the faeriestraightened a kink out of one wing and for the eleven thousandth time wished that she had a faerie cake for a little midnight snack.
Above her, Cinders’ ears flicked high.
