Fan Fiction: Master Says (Chapter 6B)

Xeang

Xeang

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I brought the names of the ten villagers I had rescued to the Bauersons. They knew everybody in town and directed me to each household where I confirmed they all made it back safely to their loved ones. This was stupendous. But Sigmund Bauerson had mentioned a kidnapping from someone near the docks reported by some stranded stranger named Wilm. None of the ten directions to rescued villagers' homes took me to him.

So I went to the docks until I found a man -- actually a halfling -- answering to that name. "Are you Wilm?" I asked.

But In fact, while acknowledging that he was said person, he somewhat smugly said that he preferred to be called by his nickname, “Handsome" Wilm. Stoically he addressed me, I thought, considering someone he knew was missing. News of some of my exploits had already reached him and he addressed me as an adventurer motivated by riches. I did not like this good-looking half-pint of a man from the moment I met him.

“I would like to hire your services. I can offer a choice of items from our cargo, as payment.” I could only hope that the person needing rescuing wasn’t as put-offish as Handsome Wilm. “I’m listening,” I simply said.

“My mistress, Drusen d’Jorasco, was assaulted and kidnapped,” he spoke as if reading a grocery list. “They were undead; obviously minions of some villain. I followed them to some decrepit catacombs here in the wilderness of Korthos Island. It’s at the base of a river inlet, underneath the south end of a long river cutting through the middle of the island. I would hire you to travel there and rescue my mistress,” he concluded.

He had heard of me but he did not know me. I needed no other incentive to help a person than to end the evil done to her. “This d’Jorasco sounds like an important woman. What’s she doing here?” I asked.

“The mistress often travels on behalf of House Jorasco. Unfortunately, we were waylaid by that troublesome Dragon,” he stated. “Does this job offer sound reasonable?”

I sighed to myself. “Quite reasonable,” I said. He continued to promise me a reward when I returned. The only reward would be to have this soulless squirt move out of Korthos I thought to myself.


The day was already long spent. But I could not leave this kidnapped victim to suffer ‘til tomorrow. I spoke with Askel again and he opened the gate.

I made it to the start of the river without incident. Behind a waterfall of the ancient structure was a hole through the grating like bent teeth sticking out of its mouth. I stepped through the falling water and beyond the broken piping. My sandaled feet sank into goop with each step; the smell of which told me I was treading in bat guano.

A torch helped me make out that I was in a pillared chamber. Some decrepit bookshelves were drooling on each side. Most of the books fell apart when I tried to pick them up. They appeared to be histories of families buried in this converted mausoleum.

Through the first few rooms many bats disturbed by my trespassing assailed me. They did not disappoint. The circled and whirled and it was a good challenge to pluck them out the air with a kick or punch. Soon after 50 meters I left their haven and came to a door.

A musty hall, heavy with silence and the weight of dark stone met me. All of a sudden, the scents of rot and decay assailed my nostrils. Something fouler than the bats and their platoon was here.

I came upon what appeared a wall, but the smell of animal rot behind it told me this was a fascade. In the corner I saw the glint of metal through some cobwebs. I moved the lever and the wall grinded open revealing a large icy requiem within. Ice covered the floor and several prior adventurers were frozen in postures of defense, their eyes wide and tongues hanging from their mouths in panic.

I slowly descended some steps. Across the chamber I could see a magical cell. Could it be holding Drusen d’JOrasco? As I weaved my way across the frozen ice, my feet causing a cracking noise. Suddenly I slipped and braced my fall against one of the frozen remains of one human statue. It started to crack from top to bottom. Then the shards fell off – not only of the one I rammed but all of them. From out of their icy graves mutilated corpses began to move and come at me.

I used my fire elemental ki to roast these rotting blights and felled four or five of them. I’m sure more zombies awaited to be woken. I came to the magical barrier that hid a cell as I peered through the energies and could see a young halfling woman standing there. She did not appear to see me nor could hear me when I shouted.

I searched but could find nothing to release the barrier. There were hallways going east and west from the large crypt room. I pursued an answer first to the east. The hallway turned south again and more bats dropped down striking two more frozen zombies. Because of the cold, my strikes did not sink into their rotten flesh as when I fought such creatures what seemed like long ago in Heytons’ crypt. But their arms, legs, torsos and heads would still snap apart when I struck them hard enough – their deteriorating flesh being the consistency of sand.

Elf and Dwarf zombies would rise from the ground but my Dragon Fist would lay them down again. If bats and brainless bags were all that haunted these halls then all would be well. But that was not to be. As I threaded a narrower path down, I came to a cultist at an altar. This human necromancer was far more powerful than before, raising not just zombies and skeletons – but ghouls.

Several approached me but not with the stuttering steps of skeletons nor the lumbering movement of zombies, but with amazing speed. I tried to keep the spell caster from uttering dangerous spells while avoiding the dangerous, tearing claws of these sickened creatures.

The ghouls unpredictably leaped in and out. I tried stunning the necromancer, but missed his vital spot. So I grabbed its arms in a bear hug to keep it from gesturing spells and then continued driving knee shots into its groin and ribs. Each strike brought crunching and snapping noises until the caster could take it no more and slumped to the ground.

The ghouls were fastidious in their movements but soon I made out their timing and as one leaped away another leapt in. As each one came in to bite or gouge me, I would strike it. I didn’t have to go after them, in other words. They came to me. Soon there were less of them and then there were none.

I found a lever that moved a large sprocket. I pulled it. Nothing happened. I went back to the magical force and found it still in place covering the metal bars. It appeared I would need to go down the opposite wing pull a second lever.

This west side was layered with skeletons galore, a few walking corpses -- and a large Sahuagin stationed to guard the other lever. He went down with more effort and I finished dispatching the undead. Still I felt there must be something more. I pulled the second lever and scurried back to see if the barrier had come down. It was down! But then I heard fast foot steps coming down steps from the entrance. ‘It cannot be!’ I thought. Jacoby Drexelhand stood before me, not alive, but not quite dead. He was unliving. The X scar on his face now oozed puss from white rubbery skin. His translucent lips cackled at the sight of me with his slitted silvery eyes. “Youuu!” he hissed and swore vengeance upon me. Jacoby Drexelhand was a ghast.

He clawed me in my own face as I hesitated in surprise at seeing him. I could feel a burning poison enter my blood. I was immediately feverish and started to cackle myself!

A skeleton warrior came behind him swinging a mace. Even as the fever burned I still had the where-with-all to avoid his mace and used and axe kick to smash through the neck bones of his accomplice. But Jacoby swiped me again. I saved against his paralyzing touch. Back at the monastery we trained our bodies to fight infection, to lower and raise its temperature, to control our bodies’ many abilities consciously. I backed against a crevice where two walls met and a tried to take control of my blood to cleanse itself of his foul evasion.

But before I could finish Drexelhand was upon me again cackling with delight seeing my sweating, feverish brow and the blood oozing from the tears in my cheek from his dirty long nails. He swiped at me again and I ducked trying to roll into his legs, grab them and take him down. But he was too fast and splaying backwards and shoving me to the pavement.

He was on my back in seconds and I felt more nails rake my back as he hooked his legs around me like a tick. He was lighter than me so I managed to get up with him clinging to me and stumbled purposefully backwards to smash him against a wall. He hit with a thud, the impact cushioning me. He dropped to the floor and I stomp kicked him in the head again and again. He used his arms to try to deflect my onslaught of feet to his face, but many got through with crunching and mushing noises like when you eat frayed corn sitting too long in milk and whey.

Drexelhand feeling his demise spit at me and cursed, “I will kill you -- you dried knot from your mother’s womb! Even if you kill me again I will be back.” I planted a heel caving in his nose. He snorted blood and cackled again, “This is not the end. The Devourer will send me back for you and all the puss Korthosian friends of yours! They are dead! Dead! Deeaad (Gak)” he cried last. He was too weak to even lift his arms to stop my final kick that mashed in his right cheek bone, mouth and eye socket of his skull.

I stomped a few more times on his body to be sure until he was a collapsed heap of bones. A gleam of metal led me to take a cell key from his remains.

Injured and still feverish I leaned against a pillar. Now without distraction I stopped and summoned healing ki. I stirred my blood and successfully purged myself of whatever infection and disease Drexelhand had inflicted on me.

Tired and spent I weaved my way around the flotsam of carnage to the cell. With the power barrier down the woman halfling watched me through her prison as I had battled successfully and now approached her. “At last, rescuers,” she said remarkedly calm for a woman whose fate was in balance by the evil Jacob Drexelhand.” “I was taken by fell undead,” she continued. “If you can ensure my safe escape, you will have House Jorasco's gratitude.” This was Drusen d’Jorasco. She had not been harmed and seemed to have some grit about her. She did not tremble nor plead.

As I was in no shape in the moment to assist her and surmising her strength I said to her, “Go, quickly! Don't stop for anything!” She took the advice and began marching out. “Stop by the House Jorasco enclave if you visit Stormreach,” she invited me. Then she went up the stairs and was gone.

I moved out more slowly. Once outside I stood under the refreshing and cold waterfall by the grating for many minutes washing my body of sweat, blood and grime. It was night and through the drifting snow I made out bright stars, planets and moons. The day was over and I had several helpings of cultists, cave bats and creatures of the night. Many villagers were rescued from the terrible fate of torture and conversion.

When I finally made it back to the village and my room at the Wavecrest Inn I crawled under the wool blankets sore and stiff. ‘This day deserves some seconds and thirds on sleep as well,’ I thought. And then I was out.


Chapters 1 and 2: https://forums.ddo.com/index.php?threads/fan-fiction-master-says-chapters-1-2.119/
Chapter 3: https://forums.ddo.com/index.php?threads/fan-fiction-master-says-chapter-3.459/
Chapter 4: https://forums.ddo.com/index.php?threads/fan-fiction-master-says-chapter-4.460/
Chapter 5A: https://forums.ddo.com/index.php?threads/fan-fiction-master-says-chapter-5a.883/
 
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