Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.35T)
Welcome to my weekly serial. This is a rough draft that I am working on, for your reading pleasure.
It is a fairly grim tale, so be warned.
Here is the first post from this series.
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“Wait!” said Ashoktyaar. “What if we are going about this wrongly?”
“We don’t have time,” warned Retaak.
“Hear him out Retaak,” chided Uyaashie.
“What is most precious to a cartographer?” asked the Troll.
“His maps,” said Uyaashie, shrugging. “That is why he protects them with so many map cases and safes. What of it, berserker?”
“A craftsman’s most precious possessions are not the things that he has made, but the tools that he uses to make them,” said Ashoktyaar, wagging a finger.
Retaak laughed, walking over to the ornate desk that dominated one side of the room. It was made of Purplewood with a perfectly smooth polished top of darkest obsidian. Each side was lined with locked drawers. “Smart thinking, Ashoktyaar.”
Uyaashie rushed over to them. pulling out her kit. She quickly picked the top two locks, but had trouble with the third.
“We are running out of time,” shouted Uyage from below.
Muttering dire oaths Uyaashie pulled out tow vials from her kit, and a small amount of green material. She rolled the green material in her fingers and Retaak realized that it was some kind of putty. She stuffed it in the keyhole. Then she added a drop from one of the vials to the material and picked up the other.
“Cover your noses,” she said, taking a cloth from her belt and placing it over her face. Then she squeezed a tiny drop of amber liquid from the second vial into the putty-filled lock. Even through his pinched nostrils the smell that emanated from the reaction made Retaak’s stomach heave. Ashoktyaar merely laughed evilly; trolls could endure any stench.
The lock sizzled and bubbled as the metal melted. The mixture dissolved quickly, however, and did not damage to the wood. No damage save the lingering smell, perhaps.
Uyasshie smiled triumphantly, reaching to pen the drawer.
“Allow me,” said Ashoktyaar, stepping in front of her.
Uyaashie began to protest, but as the Troll opened the drawer there was mechanical clicking sound and a dozen needles buried themselves in his skin.
“Poison?” asked Retaak.
“Oh no,” said Uyaashie.
“Yes, good stuff too,” said Ashoktyaar, belching. “Did not account for Troll though.”
Retaak smiled. The spread of the needles ensure that anyone standing behind the desk, even a swift move like Uyaashie would have been hit. Most poisons just gave Trolls gas though.
Ashoktyaar belched again as Uyasshie smiled up at him and then began rummaging through the drawer.
Uyage burst into the room. “They’re downstairs!” she said. Turning and firing an arrow in one swift motion.
Retaak looked at Ashoktyaar. “Can you fight, yet?”
The Troll held up his hands, indicating he was not at his best. Then belched again.
“How about falling,” Retaak asked Ashoktyaar.
The Troll gave him a thumbs up, belching again.
“I found it!” said Uyaashie, holding up a scroll case.
“Enjoy your moment of triumph before this Deathseeker guts you, Hob,” growled Uyage, firing three arrows in rapid succession. Her bowstring sang, but her expression showed only frustration.
“Do you have what you need?” asked Retaak.
“Yes,” said Uyaashie, eyes widening as she realized that they were doomed.
“Good, because we have to jump out the window right now if we want to live,” said Retaak.
“You’re not ser–“
But Retaak was already moving.
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