Fan Fiction: Master Says (Chapter 3)

[Xeang]

(Editor's note: having to post one additional chapter at a time because there appears to be a word limit per post)

Chapter 3: Breaking the Fast​

I was on my own now. Not a copper to my name. My only acquaintances -- Cellimas, Talbron and Jeets -- dissipated into the blizzard of Korthos off to see their employer. There were almost throngs of villagers in Korthos. Many of the outliers had left their farms and homes to gather for the safety within the walls of this village.

Korthos was at one end of this small island with only one bay for ships to come through and rocky bluffs protecting it from the wilderness of Korthos. A gate between the bluffs was manned by guards to protect from wild animals, Sahuagin and other misanthropes that might intend harm to the people of Korthos. This I learned later walking the perimeter of the village.

As I started up a stony path towards the heart of the village, a grizzled man with a backpack and a large walking stick that looked like a giant slingshot stopped me. He was a traveler he told me more anxious to get out of this little village than get in it. His fretting face told me that he was not alone in his desire to find egress from this island. For as I came to their tiny bay, the very entrance to the bay between two cliffs was frozen in ice. No ship could get in and no ship could get out.

The town itself had a friendly character by design. Quaint, clean and most usually quiet. But now populated with more than the normal share of villagers from fear of violence and with sailors and passengers from all over Eberron trapped by the cold of this dire dragon it bustled. But it did not bustle with joy. The anxiety in the air was like humidity.

Master Icku once said, “there is nothing to fear but fear itself. But then you are still fearing something. Best to fear nothing. But then nothing is everything so you are fearing everything. Fear not fear and you will be fear free.” Whatever.

In the village square I spied a small inn with a frothy wave spilling out of a large beer mug. “The Wave Crest Inn” said the sign. I needed to learn myself how to get out of Korthos to Stormreach. Although I was given a year to return for Master’s 100th birthday, more than a month had passed by on the ship alone. And I still wasn’t at Stormreach. And I needed to return.

I stepped in the inn. There perhaps I could discover how and/or when a way to get to Stormreach which was still days shy of Korthos by ship. The tavern was warm and inviting. High rafters of wood made it seem more spacious than it was. A large fire kettle behind a circular bar helped heat the place as well as send up inviting smells of liquors they brewed there and sandwiches they made. Though it was early morning there were still more than a dozen patrons huddling in groups conversing among themselves. Everyone that entered the tavern they first glanced up in hopes of good news that the dragon and ice were gone. But seeing the gust of snow come in with each entry and a face searching for hope itself, they turned back despondent to their comrades. Someone, like me, who they hadn’t seen before they met with suspicion.

I went up to the bar. A small peckish lady was scrubbing the counter fastidiously. When she looked up and saw me she said, “Well met stranger! I’m Ingrid Bauerson. My husband, Sigmund, and I own this establishment. If you are injured from your travels, I have food that’ll make you heal faster.” I was struck by her line that she’s anticipating clients coming in hurt from the dragon or Sahuagin or worse. Who offers food for healing as a first thought? None the less I realized I had not eaten in more than a day, and while accustomed to fasting, I wasn’t accustomed to so much exertion and drama when fasting. I was famished.

“Well met,” I said. “I am the monk, Xeang.” I held up my ring to her: “Is this ring worth some food and water,” I asked. I handed it to her and she turned it over and frowned. “I’m sorry this really isn’t worth a copper to me. However, if you are looking for work,” she nodded her head to the man behind the bar a few paces away, “talk with my husband.”

I thanked her and came around by him. He looked up and half smiled. “Welcome to Wavecrest. You are among good people here.” I introduced myself again and asked him if he might have some work for me. He studied me a moment. Despite my new clothes I was grimy from the cave and marked with some small injuries, and somewhat gaunt from adventure on sea and land. I carried nothing with me, not even a weapon. Finally he said, “I am organizing a defense for this town, but honestly you don’t look like you are ready. I have plenty of others already bussing tables and whatnot.”

I am a monk I repeated to him. But he just cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t have no work for one who just sits and reads. Maybe if you can prove yourself handy with a weapon, then come back to me.” I did not bother to try to convince him that my bruises and grime came from taking out a dozen Sahuagin with my bare hands in the last few hours. Clearly he did not know what a monk from Kara-Tur is capable of.

He saw my distress and said, “Listen, ask around. Plenty of folk need help around here. As you can see things are bad around here. Real bad. We have this unfounded freakish cold. We’re terrorized by a Dragon flying over head and freezing ships and blocking our harbor. And now we have our old foes the Sahuagin raiding us not to mention people are talking about evil cultists! I’d love to help ya’ but I don’t want to just put you in death’s path. You don’t look ready to deal with any of these problems. Well met, kind monk.” And with that he turned his head back to the bar.

I started to explain that I was willing to take such a risk, but before I could finish he turned around and said sternly again, “Well met!” By which of course he meant, “good bye.” I turned and wandered through the tavern. As I passed by tables I heard fears expressed at each one by the people there. “The Sahuagin stole my grain but not my garlic…maybe they’re vampires!” “The cultists have no soul! No soul in their eyes!” “The Devourer is one of the cult of the Six! I gaze into depths of the the Blackest Fury, do you not hear its call? The Devourer brings power, if the void within you can accept it!”

People complained about the cold; they speculated on why the dragon was here and what it wanted. Sailors and pirates complained about loss of income and being stir crazy trapped on this banana sized island. But though I talked to a few, none had work for me.


I left the inn. As I crossed the square I saw a paunchy man sitting on some steps, his arms folded and hunched over as if constipated. “Greetings, I am the monk, Xeang” I said to him in my best common. I’m sure I had a Kara-Tur accent, whatever that sounded like. To me the locals’ accent was brutish a bit to my ears. They forced all their vowels out hard and long. He looked up and saw my grime and bruises and had the exact opposite reaction as did Bauerson the innkeeper: “You’re a dangerous monk if ever I’ve seen one.” Perhaps he was being sarcastic, because the next thing he said sounded like bait, “But reckon you got a heart too! Up for helping us poor Korthos folk?”

Master warned, “Compliments are like sticky goo-plant candy. Fling them off like you would Banjo Gum between your fingers.”

But I am called to serve everyone, poor and rich alike. And it sounded like he was building to some possible work or activity that might buy me a meal or two. But never commit or vow to something blindly. I said, “That depends, what kind of help do you need?”

“See that house yonder north?” he asked. “That’s our storehouse. And in the back room, old Lars Heyton put his scrolls. Now the good folks of Korthos need that scroll, so someone’s gotta go in and get it.” He looked at my questioning face and continued, “I’d do it myself, but the Storehouse’s got a wee infestation. Rodents and spiders, is all. But here’s the kick, old Heyton put a shield to keep scaly Sahuagin hands off his scrolls. Only he ain’t around no more to turn it off. But I’m sure you’re bright ‘nuff to do it. The Village Storehouse is just next to the town tavern. What do you say?”

I had heard the name Heyton mentioned once or twice when strolling through the tavern. He must be someone important I reflected. I asked, “What’s so important about this scroll?” The poor fellow on the steps replied, “Heyton once wrote this one scroll that’s all about Dragons. Aye, that’s right, I said, ‘Dragons.’ What with that White Dragon making all this ice and otherwise being a mortal danger…well, that scroll ought to come in handy. You follow? Just bring it back to me, Linus Weir.”

I realized I wouldn’t just be serving the villagers if this scroll could get rid of the dragon. This could help me get off Korthos and back on track to Stormreach. I accepted, ”Alright, I’ll bring back that scroll to you.”


The storehouse was close by and the door was unlocked. I stepped in. Dust and mold filled this ill maintained storehouse. It appeared Items from across the entire history of Korthos were hidden away beneath the dust of this storehouse. I could hear the telltale skittering of vermin nearby.

I stepped forward and out of some boxes came a small brown spider. By small I meant the size of a shoebox. I’ve stepped on spiders before but this one took a full stomp kick splattering its innards all over the floor and my feet. The sounds of the incident brought out another spider and a large rat – it was also as big as a laundry basket and looked sickly, maybe even dead and diseased. It took a few kicks to get it to stop moving. The other spider I just painted more floor tiles with its yellow-green goo.


There was a door to my left locked. Two other doors were open. I started opening crates looking for a key to open the barred door. Surely this Heyton would have had several protections for his scrolls. I found some coppers and another vial of medicine, but nothing else of consequence. I opened one of the unlocked doors and proceed up the path inspecting more boxes, vases and crates. This opened to a larger storage area with many boxes, but also more rats and spiders. I was taxed for few minutes before I achieved peace again, but not before getting some scratches, stings and bites. I took a moment drink one of the healing potions that I collected along the way.

I opened all the crates. As always it’s the last one you open --finally! A large silver key fell from the crate. I picked it up and suddenly I heard a noise from behind me. A Sahuagin emerged from a hidden passage, demanding the key. “My name is Huul Eyx!” he hissed in common. He held out a webbed hand, “Give meees the keysss!” This was some kind of warrior Sahuagin. He was cubits higher than the ones I met in the grotto. This would be a challenge to defeat alone, but I knew I mustn’t let the scrolls fall into Devourer hands!

I pocketed the silver key. Huul Eyx hissed even louder at the refusal and lifted his spear. He was quick. He’d thrust and I’d parry. He’d thrust and I’d parry. But my hands and arms were getting cut both from the tip of the spear and its grainy shaft. I was losing blood. I had to move closer to his body where the long ranged spear would become less effective. I retreated back between a wall and a pillar and then sprung around the pillar to his left side. He tried to turn to thrust me but the spear shaft was too long and hit the pillar instead. I moved in and sprayed him with a half dozen punches and kicks before he managed his spear back in position. By then he was weakened. He bashed me once with the inside shaft but a few more strikes of kung fu finally dropped him. Broken bones and bleeding organs allowed him a few more angry hisses, but he was soon done. I killed Huul Eyx.

My injuries were more severe. It would waste many bottles of healing. So I would use what I was told by my teachers was ki to heal myself. This was a power I had since youth that was growing through practice. The monastery taught every monk the healing power of ki, but it was seldom mastered as a beginning student such as I. Usually it was only the Intermediate students who could self-heal their injuries, and much more slowly than I. Mine was almost instantaneous. And I could heal others just as quickly with my power without the preparation of Fists of Light, a technique I was still working on but had not yet achieved.

This had raised eyebrows even among the teachers. But Master Icku told me not to let it trouble my heart. “Healing is a good thing,” he said though he seemed to have a far-away expression as he told me this. “Don’t worry, disciple Xeang,” he smiled, “Go make me some Barvala Quake soup post haste and if you cut off your thumb chopping the vegetables you will know what to do.”

I called upon my energy, and felt a power enter me and heal me to full health.

I now followed the short secretive passage down. It ended with a devourer shrine, a chest and an open sewer grate. The small room was knee deep in sewage and water. The Sahuagin were also coming out of the sewers beneath Korthos! The villagers must learn of this and lock down all major sewer hatches in town.

I opened the chest. A cloak and some baubles. ‘Enough for a good lunch!’ I thought. But my job was not complete. I still did not have the scroll of Dragons. I searched down the final passage dispatching two more carrion rats, apparently animated by some foul magic of the Devourer.

The key worked on the locked door. The door swung open revealing a magical sphere around a scroll. On the floor in a 10 cubit square around the pedestal were tiles floors of some kind of puzzle. One tile was lit. It appeared that the floor here could be moved and rotated.

It took some small wit but perhaps too much for the Sahuagin. Soon I had lit the tiles to four endings that released the magical sphere. I grabbed the scroll, left the Storehouse and started my delivery to Linus Weir.

When he saw me approaching with the gilded scroll case he exclaimed, “Oi, you got the scroll! Let’s see what it says…Hmm, what’s this then? There are no pictures! Well nevermind. I’ll get it to someone who knows how to read. Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna forget you. Here, take this for your trouble. Linus handed me a sash for my outfit even as he stood up to walk off and deliver the scroll himself. The helped hitch my trousers better allowing me to stand stronger and move more comfortably. I bowed and thanked him.

I returned to the inn. All the patrons looked up in hope and then back down again resolutely when they saw it was me. Ingrid, however, gave me another pleasant welcome. “Did you find work,” she asked. “I did,” I replied and plunked down a few silvers. “May I have your Pea soup and some bread?” I asked. “Of course, dear, find yourself a table,” she said.

I was so hungry that I ordered the Leak and Potato soup even before she delivered me the Pea soup. I sat at a table alone with different patrons but the same questions and fears being expressed all around me as my first visit. The news of the scroll had not yet hit them, or perhaps it was not help enough. Or perhaps the answers would cost too many lives. In either case Ingrid put two bowls of piping hot soups in front of me and some stale bread to sop it up. I heartily ate every lick and crumb.

Breaking my fast never tasted better.

Chapter 1 and 2: https://forums.ddo.com/index.php?threads/fan-fiction-master-says-chapters-1-2.119/
Chapter 4: https://forums.ddo.com/index.php?threads/fan-fiction-master-says-chapter-4.460/
Chapter 5: https://forums.ddo.com/index.php?threads/fan-fiction-master-says-chapter-5a.883/