'Did my brother just say those words?' Melann asked, approaching the two with a playful smile.
'I came from the Abyss, not Hell,' Vheod said softly but succinctly. 'There's an important difference but I shouldn't expect you to understand that.'
Whitlock turned. After all the liberties Whitlock had given this stranger, he wouldn't be spoken to like that. 'Listen, you-'
'Wait. What's all this about?' Melann asked, step ping between them.
'Oh, he saw a bird and it spooked him,' Whitlock said dismissively.
Both he and Vheod turned toward where the raven had perched, with Melann following their gaze, but it had gone.
'It's not even there anymore. Happy now?' Whitlock turned to finish his preparations. When he turned back again he saw the reassuring smile that Melann gave to Vheod. He did not like it.
Once they were back on the move, the rain diminished, and by mid-morning had stopped altogether. The trees dripped with a glistening shine, and the grass they passed over was slick, slowing them a little. The day remained cloudy and dark.
'According to Orrag's instructions,' Vheod said, “we should probably arrive at the site tomorrow.'
'Late tomorrow, perhaps,' Whitlock added, looking at the mountains and comparing landmarks with the half-orc's directions. 'Assuming he told us the truth in the first place.'
They'd been moving at a dangerously slow pace compared to the earlier portions of their journey. That was to be expected, but the threat of the gnolls made the slow pace all the more nerve-racking.
'That's my brother for you,' Melann said. She turned to Vheod. 'Always the suspicious one.'
Vheod didn't respond. Whitlock and Melann dismounted, and they prepared to rest for a while, using the opportunity of a nearby stream to water the horses.
Vheod turned with a start.
'What is it?' Melann hissed, turning in the direction Vheod was looking. Whitlock's hand was already on the hilt of his sword.
'In the trees, to the right,' Vheod said, pointing. At first Whitlock relaxed a little, thinking Vheod had seen another bird, but no, something passed between two trees-something humanoid. It was running away.
'A gnoll,' Vheod said.
Whitlock leaped back into the saddle and pulled hard at the reins. His boots dug deeply into his steed's sides as he urged it to speed. Crossing the open space, he raced into the trees where the gnoll was quickly loping away. Whitlock drew his sword with a single smooth stroke. The gnoll was probably a scout, going to warn a larger group of their position.
He couldn't let it get away.
The gnoll ran, and ran quickly, but Whitlock saw an opening in the trees large enough to ride through, and he guided his mount into it.
Obviously sensing it was hopeless to attempt to outrun the horse, the gnoll wheeled and pulled at a spiked club that dangled from its belt. Grasping the club in both its clawed hands it planted itself, ready to attack as Whitlock approached.
So Whitlock did what the gnoll was not expecting. Pulling his left foot up onto the saddle, he pushed off and leaped to the right, toward the surprised gnoll. He crashed into it with great force, knocking the gnoll off its feet. The flat of Whitlock's sword smashed into the creature's snout, and blood spattered over both of them as they rolled together. Whitlock used the gnoll's large, shaggy form to absorb the impact of his leap.
When they stopped rolling, the stunned gnoll lay on the ground under Whitlock and against a tree. The warrior placed his blade across the creature's neck, but it was still too dazed to even notice. Whitlock glanced up and saw that his horse had stopped about ten yards away and was circling back out of the trees. He also heard footsteps coming up behind him-Vheod and Melann caught up.
'Melann,' Whitlock said, 'remember when that dwarves came to Archendale and they couldn't speak our language? That old priest-Thontoman, I think his name was-cast a spell that allowed him to speak with them. Can you do that?'
Melann was breathing heavily as she ran up.
'No.” she replied. 'That's not a power at my command.'
'I can speak to it,' Vheod said. Whitlock noticed that the half-demon wasn't breathing heavily at all. Both Melann and Vheod approached and stood over Whitlock and his prisoner. 'Assuming he can speak to anyone.'
Whitlock slapped the gnoll's bloody snout a few times-not hard, but enough so it would notice. 'Wake up,' he spat.
The gnoll began to shake its head. Its eyes focused, and the warrior made sure it saw his blade before he put it back at its neck. 'Don't try anything, monster.'
Vheod concentrated for a moment, then bent over the creature to touch it.
'Do not attempt to flee, or you will die,' Vheod said, in the common tongue.
The gnoll grunted and growled. 'What are you doing here?' Vheod asked. The gnoll bared its teeth, and Whitlock could see its black gums. While it smelled of musk and feces, its breath was much worse, stinking of rancid meat. 'Tell us or you will die,' Vheod's voice took on a cold quality that sent a chill down Whitlock's back.
The gnoll silently moved its head back and forth for a moment, then made noises like barking and grunting.
'He can understand what you're saying?' Melann asked from behind both Vheod and Whitlock. 'You sound as though you're speaking normally.'
Vheod didn't turn his gaze from the captive. 'He can not understand the actual words I speak, exactly, but I can make him understand what I mean- and I can understand what he means.'
She paused to consider this, and Vheod resumed the interrogation. 'Why were you here? Were you looking for us?'
The gnoll responded with a few short grunts, then a string of unintelligible growls.
'It says,' Vheod said, still focused on the gnoll, 'that it wasn't here looking for us, but something else.'
'They were expecting someone else along this path?' Whitlock asked.
'No, something, it said,' Vheod reached into his pocket, and pulled forth the small green stone.
'Is this what you were looking for?' Vheod asked. Though he couldn't understand the gnoll's crude speech, Whitlock could tell by the sudden look of recognition in its eyes that the answer was yes.
'What are they? What are they for?' Vheod asked sternly, still holding up the green stone that glistened, like the wet leaves around them.
The creature spoke again, and Vheod translated, 'It says they must gather these lost stones to bring to their master.'
'Who in the Nine Hells is their master?' Whitlock demanded.
Vheod gave Whitlock a questioning look, but they asked the gnoll and got a reply. 'It says its master is The who has called to its people.' The who will soon awaken from a long sleep.' It doesn't have a name for this master.'
'That's why there're so many gnolls in the area” Melann interjected. 'Someone has been calling then here.'
'Chare'en,' Vheod stated flatly. 'Is that what the creature said?' Melann asked. 'No, not by name.' Vheod shook his head. 'Look,' Whitlock said, 'we can talk about that later. Are there more questions we need to ask this thing?'
Vheod proceeded to ask if there were more gnolls nearby, but the creature replied that most of the gnolls in this area were killed or chased off by something it didn't know or understand.
“That sounds bad,' Whitlock said. He cleared his throat, not wanting Melann to hear the worry in his voice.
'Perhaps it means the crypt,' Melann said suddenly 'Perhaps something about the crypt of Chare'en frightened the gnolls away. If we head toward it, we won't have to worry about them while we're there.'
'Perhaps,' Whitlock said slowly, 'but that doesn't mean we don't have to be worried about whatever it is they're afraid of.' 'True,' she agreed.
