Rosencrantz sat at the long table in Parlfrey’s dining room, idly stirring the food on his plate. The eggs were bland, the sausage was overcooked, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the earthy-smelling, chunky brown mush. Probably there was some sort of magical spell that could identify what godless dimension that it came from, but Rosencrantz never really had the knack for Divination. He missed having Aurian around… the man was insufferable at times, but certainly knew how to scare up a decent meal.
Glancing down the length of the table, Rosencrantz surveyed his companions for the day’s adventure.
Nanoc was busy shoveling down enough food to feed a small army: he was cleaning plates almost as fast as the serving men and women could bring them out. The keep’s guardsmen – all laughing uproariously at the scene – were sitting nearby him, having become fast friends with the huge warrior. Nanoc’s martial skills were becoming a thing of legend, and the men-at-arms would jump at the chance to train alongside him.
Rowyn had finished eating, and was leaning back in her chair, juggling four apples with one hand. She had a familiar glint in her eyes that made Rosencrantz sigh inwardly: he’d have to make sure later that her pockets weren’t loaded with silverware. One of the apples abruptly made a strange arc in the air, and landed squarely in the palm of a man sitting across from her. Rowyn looked surprised, and barely managed to keep from dropping the rest of the fruit.
Terth took a bite of his prize. Rosencrantz shook his head: that man was an enigma. Terth did not use incantations, material components, or sometimes even gestures, and didn’t own a spellbook. Rosencrantz had tried asking him about the nature of his powers, but Terth had trouble describing how he was able to do what he did, saying something to the effect that it was like explaining to someone how to breathe.
Further down the table was Erlan, ignoring his breakfast, who looked to be in a decidedly one-sided conversation with an elven minstrel. Rosencrantz couldn’t hear what was being discussed, but pinned a 93.7% probability that it had something to do with Selune, or grandmothers.
[snip]
Squire Marlin was pretty nervous about the business of paying tribute to a 70-foot dragon. Rosencrantz tried being helpful by pointing out his situation was still a better fate than Thurmaster being ground into splinters, and having everyone’s heads bashed in by giants. At that, the Squire turned as white as a sheet.
Rosencrantz nodded, satisfied, as he took the note and left the way that he came. Sometimes people just needed a proper sense of perspective.
[snip]
… Rosencrantz wondered what that old buzzard would have to say if he could see his student now, dragging a foul-smelling cow through a mire, to go visit a green dragon with whom he’d made a rather lopsided bargain. Probably something about how it was his own fault.
[snip]
… they continued down the passageway, tribute in tow, as the sound of the torrential downpour receded behind them. The animal was getting spooked, but someone managed to calm it down. They eventually reached the end of the tunnel after a few minutes, and it opened up into an expansive cave, that extended beyond the reach of the lantern light. A deep, heavy breathing sound could be heard. Rosencrantz wondered aloud if Enzeldrin was asleep.
“OH, I’M AWAKE.”
He choked back a scream.
[snip]
… as the party walked out of the tunnel, trying hard to ignore the sound of crunching cow bones, Rosencrantz decided that he had changed his mind about Enzeldrin. Her motives were still pretty suspect, but she had useful information, particularly about the Displacer Beast. He was forced to admit to himself that maybe this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad after all.
[snip]
… Rosencrantz had a stick in his hand, and was slashing lines and circles in the soft soil of the mire to indicate various strategic approaches to the cave, while keeping his voice low to avoid attracting attention. It was important, in his opinion, to have a plan of attack, and never go into a battle unprepared. He glanced up at Rowyn, about to direct her to move into position to fire from long range, when his train of thought was interrupted by a C major chord. Rosencrantz whirled around, with a look of horror on his face.
Dresden was strumming his strange instrument, and loudly singing a song. Rosencrantz frantically waved his arms at Dresden, trying to catch his attention. The minstrel, however, was too absorbed in singing his ballad, the basic theme of which seemed to be that giants were dumb, ugly, and smelled like mutton pie that was left in the sun for a week. A few moments later, a huge boulder came sailing out from the direction of the cave opening. It crashed mere inches from where Dresden was standing, and cut off the minstrel’s song in mid-verse, just as he had been describing how giants were bedwetting nancies that still lived with their mothers.
Rosencrantz growled, and began casting a protective spell as the other members of the party rushed past him towards the mouth of the cave, weapons drawn. Just as he finished the intricate motions of the spell, he heard a cry of pain coming from the direction of the cave entrance. A moment later, he saw a monstrous, nine-foot-tall creature running into the mire, at full speed, with Nanoc in hot pursuit, wielding his massive two-handed sword, now covered with the creature’s blood.
Rowyn darted out of the cave with short bow in hand, stopping to nock a sheaf arrow flight arrow and take aim. She paused, clearly hesitant to fire at a fleeing opponent. Rosencrantz, however, had no such inhibition: he uttered a quick incantation, and two glowing missiles flew from his outstretched hand, whizzing past Rowyn and Nanoc, striking the giant in the back. The creature stumbled, and toppled over into a heap, dead.
The wizard nodded, satisfied. There would be no repeat of the Splinter Incident, so long as he was around. He felt what he thought was a twinge of guilt, but then decided that it was probably just indigestion.
[snip]
… the giant dragonfly tried to escape the choking cloud of gas, but the grass and brush underneath it reached up and pulled the creature out of the air, holding it fast on the ground. Rosencrantz gave a thumbs-up to Erlan: that combination attack might be handy again in the future.
The party advanced on the incapacitated creature, and began firing at it from a distance with ranged weaponry. Rowyn and Dresden used their bows, Nanoc threw darts, and Rosencrantz readied his trusty staff sling. However, just as he was about to load a bullet into the sling, the bullet flew out of his hand, sailed through the air, and crashed into the monster at high speed, killing it. Terth waved at Rosencrantz with a sheepish grin on his face.
And thus ended the most uneven, one-sided slaughter that Rosencrantz had ever seen.
[snip]
The party ended the two-day-trek where it began: Parlfrey’s keep. The party restocked on supplies, and rested, while Dresden, Rosencrantz, and Lyntern spent the evening digging through the keep’s modest library, looking for information on where the Parlfreys originally came from.
As he was flipping through the various tomes, Rosencrantz’s thoughts began to wander. There was a lot still left to do around here. The girl from Milbourne was still missing, the crypt was not fully explored, the grave robbers were still unaccounted for, the Gleaming Glade and the eyepatch priest needed to be investigated, Enzeldrin wanted a pair of Displacer Beast eyes, the party needed to talk to Kuiper about getting in touch with Olan, and there was still the question of the missing pilgrims. Plus, Rosencrantz felt as though he was on the verge of a breakthrough in his studies… he wanted to speak with Tauster and see if there was anything that the old man could teach him.
Rosencrantz shook his head, and refocussed on the task at hand. Tomorrow would be another day.
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