"The Roll of the Dice"

by

the Fellowship of the Broken Sword

(Here is the conclusion to "Roll of the Dice." I have to say this story went much further than I ever expected, as well as going in directions I never could have guessed! Hopefully we will continue to see this level of involvement in the future, with perhaps a few new authors adding their presence. Thanks to all of the writers: Brian F. [Myloeh, Jake A., Vulpine], Bill R. [Hobar, Scuz], Rex H., John R. [Naugrim], Marty [Martek], Jeff [Barrett, Grim], and Kev [Faffard] )

With Myleoh in the lead, followed by Hobar, Throckmir, and the dark

mage, what was left of the party traveled on. As they traveled, at one

point, both Throckmir and Hobar noticed a concealed passage along the

rough hewn cave walls.

"Well, do we take the passage or do we continue on Hobar?" Myleoh asked

of the dwarf.

"You know the rules," grumbled Hobar, "secret doors first, then passages

or doors to the left."

"No need to be so grumpy about it," giggled the halfling. Myloeh

suspected that Hobar was beginning to feel the effects of the loss of

his everful flask. His spare flask could not have much more left, he

thought.

As the group traveled down the new passage, it began to narrow

significantly.

"I can perceive that the passage is narrowing," called out Throckmir.

Hobar, Myloeh, and the dark mage rolled their eyes at this proclamation

of the obvious.

When the passage got down to 8 foot in width, it went from a rough hewn

cave to a brick passage. "I can perceive that we have entered a

structure of some sort," gauffed Hobar. He and the halfling had a

moment of laughter at Throckmir's expense.

Myloeh began checking for traps. Almost immediately he picked out that

their was a perceptible line in the mortar of the walls at about 5 foot

in height. He started to alert Hobar as to his findings, then swallowed

his own words. Hobar and Throckmir were about 4 1/2 feet tall each.

The dark mage was easily 6 foot tall.

"Looks clear to me," Myloeh whispered back to the group.

"Don't dawdle, halfling. This place has the smell of death." Hobar

barked at Myloeh.

Myleoh couldn't help but giggle at Hobar's remarks as he began moving

forward. He expected at any moment for blades to come slicing out of

the walls and decapitate the dark mage. This dark mage had given Myleoh

the creeps since they first met.

As the four moved onto the masonry of the passage, a wall suddenly

jutted up from the floor to close off possible escape back down the

passage. A second later, another wall went up about 10 feet in front of

the group.

"Oh hell," thought Hobar as he instinctively dropped his pack and hefted

his ax. Looking in front of himself at the halfling, Hobar was

dumbfounded to see Myleoh crouching slightly, looking back toward the

mage, and giggling. "What has gotten into Myleoh," Hobar thought to

himself. Just then the halfling's giggling ceased and a look of pure

terror came across his face. There was a loud grinding noise as the

walls on either side of passage rose about 6 inches. As the walls rose,

water began to spill onto the floor through the crack in the wall.

[Hobar]

*

[Editor's note: The parchment upon which this ancient tale is written has unfortunately suffered damage over the ages from water, insects, and what looks to be the work of a dagger of some sort. A small amount of the parchment is particularly damaged, necessitating a recreation of the events which are described in that section. I have endeavored to restore the story to its original sequence and have summarized the damaged section below. Sorry, John.]

Unable to escape through the door, our diminuitive adventurers quickly realized that they might be able to swim through the small opening into whatever lay beyond the walls. Hobar led the way, followed quickly by Myloeh.

Naugrim, deciding that the dark mage was a thoroughly untrustworthy fellow, pulled out his axe and cleaved the sorcerer in two. After quickly looting the body and relieving him of several wands, he followed his companions through the gap.

Hobar and Myloeh found themselves in a huge underground cavern, through which the river they had dropped into flowed. Swimming to the shore the two rested, waiting for signs of their companions. Throckmir suddenly shot into view and plunged into the river. After several minutes the two became concerned when Throckmir did not reappear. To their amusement the dwarf suddenly walked onto the shore; he had walked across the bottom of the river! Hobar and Myloeh, seeing the blood on Throckmir and several suspicious wands in his belt, understood what had happened to the dark mage. Sharing a laugh, the three then rested on the shore.

[End or restored portion]

*

Myloeh's laughter slowly died off, as did that of the dwarves. They were all suddenly aware of the precarious position they were now in. Looking at the underground river which flowed swiftly around the bend, Myloeh felt a great reluctance to trust his life to it. Wringing out his cap (which had somehow managed to stay on his head), he turned to Hobar and said, "Well, what do you think?"

"I don't know," the dwarf grumbled. "Looks to me like we're really screwed this time." Pulling out his flask he threw back his head to take a great drink, but was stunned to find that only a drop of ale dripped into his mouth. "Aaargh!" he screamed and pitched the flask at the wall of the cavern behind him. The three of them watched the flask fly through the air until it reached the wall. Instead of shattering, though, the flask suddenly disappeared, followed a moment later by the sound of shattering glass somewhere behind the wall. "Well, I'll be damned," Hobar said.

"Probably, but what do you make of that?" Naugrim asked.

"An illusion, and a bloody good one, too," Myloeh said. Hobar motioned to the halfling to investigate. Creeping toward the wall, Myloeh suddenly fell flat on his face with a loud "ooomph!" The halfling crawled around on his hands and knees for several moments before turning to the group.

"There is a set of invisible stairs here which leads up into the illusion. Step carefully when you reach this spot," Myloeh said. Grabbing a handful of sand he spread it across the steps, allowing their outline to be clearly seen. Standing up, he cautiously stepped up onto the steps and continued upwards.

The two dwarves watched as Myloeh began walking up the now visible steps and suddenly disappeared. "I've entered a huge hall!" they heard him shout before his head suddenly reappeared in mid-air. "You have got to see this!"

The dwarves grabbed their gear and quickly ran up the steps and through the illusion. They found themselves in a huge, lavishly decorated hallway which led on for several hundred feet. The entire surface of the hall was covered in statuary, murals, and tapestries, and the floor was covered with a plush rug. "Very nice place Martek has here," Throckmir said. "Too nice for a dead person."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Hobar said. All three of them drew their weapons and proceeded slowly down the hall. There were no doors present, and no secret doors were able to be found. The hallway appeared to end in a large, well lit room decorated with a variety of plants and beautiful furniture.

Situated in the middle of the room was an exquisite chess board, at which were seated two men. One wore an extravagant blue mage's robe and a great deal of jewelry, while the other, obviously a warrior, wore a full set of plate mail with a huge two handed sword strapped across his back. Both men looked up when the small group entered. "Greetings, and welcome to my humble abode," the robed figure said. "Have a seat, but pour yourself a drink first. We have much to discuss."

The three looked at each other and, deciding they had nothing to lose, entered the room, poured themselves an excellent glass of wine, and sat in one of the chairs near the two.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Martek the Archmage, and this is Lord Faffard," the robed figure said pleasantly.

The figure known as Faffard nodded to the three but said nothing. "So, you're not dead, eh?" Myloeh said. Hobar slapped his head in disgust, and Throckmir slapped the halfling's head in disgust.

Martek laughed. "No, apparently I am not yet dead. I just want people to think that I am so they will cease to bother me. Unfortunately, some how the three of you survived my many traps and have arrived here to disturb my peace."

The tone in which he said this left the three feeling very nervous. Still clutching their weapons Hobar spoke. "Well, in that case, I suppose we should be going. If you would show us the way out?"

"Not so fast," Faffard said. Standing he unsheathed his mighty sword and held it before him. "I don't think the mage is through with you yet."

"Quite," Martek replied. "The question is, what should I do with you?"

[Myloeh]

*

The dwarves and Myloeh stood silently, wondering if a reply was really

expected. After a minute Hobar and Myloeh glanced at each other with a,

"It can't hurt to try!" look. Hobar nodded imperceptibly and Myloeh took

the cue, clearing his throat as if to begin speaking.

"Hold your tongue furry foot," Faffard snapped, "Martek is not through

staring at you!"

"Staring?...." Myloeh thought, "why would he be... HE'S CASTING!!!!!" Myloeh screamed, diving back toward the hall they had entered from. Hobar reacted quickly and threw his back against a wall readying himself for the coming battle. Throckmir however was quicker and reached into his boot to retrieve the fish he had kept from the river. Slinging it out with all of his might he cursed the mage and all magics. At the apex of his swing the fish slipped from his fingers and flew not toward the mage (his intended target) but rather toward the one called Faffard. Whatever magic had created the scene had not accounted for a dwarf's zany approach to impending death and so was not able to correct the perceptions of the three stout warriors (ok, two stout warriors and one half-pint rodent). With 'disbelief' Hobar, Throckmir, and Myloeh (watching from the shadows of the hall) gasped as the fish did not spatter against Faffard's formidable frame, but passed through him landing instead, with a sizzle, on a fancy, wire encompassed torch sconce. All three adventurers shook their heads vigorously, desperately trying to make sense of what had happened.

"A battle, Throckmir. We begin a battle and you, you decide to have smoked salmon!" Hobar jested. Throckmir, still shaking his head (he liked the rush it gave him) giggled slightly and then froze completely.

"Huh?!?" Myloeh (who had ventured into the doorway) and Hobar said together. Looking again back toward Martek, Myloeh and Hobar saw not the opulent, grand hall, but rather a dark, cold cavern which smelled of decay (and smoked fish). Martek (who, unbelievably still looked like Martek) broke from his staring pose and gestured toward the place Faffard had been. "You think

he's there, and then you're not sure. Perhaps if he had been a bit more interactive......"

"Anyway, thats here nor there...or some stupid phrase like that. Again I ask the question, 'what am I to do with you?'"

Throckmir was released from the holding spell and fell to the floor nose first. "Gods be damned friggin' fraggin' mage in a night gown frog humpin' lizard eatin'-well I do that too- panty waste limp wristed wand suckin' piece of elf gizzard pansy feather pushin' magic freak!!! I'm gonna eat

your heart!!" Throckmir screamed.

"No, no you won't," Martek calmly replied, "your alignment against evil nature will stay your ravenous hunger for my heart... and besides, if you don't stop screaming I'll turn you into ice boy again."

Throckmir looked to Hobar and Hobar looked to Myloeh. "We do." Hobar said.

"We don't!" Myloeh squeaked.

"We do!" Throckmir growled.

"No," Myloeh whispered.

"Yes!!!!" Hobar and Throckmir yelled together. And with that, the dwarves turned to face each other, slammed their weapons against their chests, turned toward the mage and charged....

"And then there was one.." muttered Myloeh as he walked back down the corridor away from certain doom. He pulled another strand of meat from the object he was holding and, with a raise of his eyebrows said, "At least the salmon's good!"

[Barrett]

*

[What follows is a recreation of a chapter which was lost due to damage to the scrolls which this ancient legend was written upon (I accidentally lost the chapter). I will endeavor to summarize it as best I can.]

The two dwarves, against the halfling's judgement and hoping to gain the advantage, attacked the mage with dwarven fury. Myloeh, believing the situation to be hopeless, left the scene fully expecting to never hear from his companions again. He stumbled across the ancient skeleton of a thief who held a broken sword in its skeletal hand. Myloeh, seeing a large gem embedded in it, grabbed the sword and found to his horror that he could not let go of it. The sword contained the soul of Faffard, and ancient warrior whose spirit had somehow come to be entrapped in the broken blade.

*

"What? Who? Faffard? Is this another illusion trick, thing?" Myloeh

stammered.

*No, no. I assure you that I am no illusion. I am the soul of Faffard the

mighty, etc., etc. I inhabit this broken-sword that you have become attached

to.... or vise versa... Anyway, now I also inhabit your petty little mind,

and I want you to go back the way you came and help those short, hairy dwarf

things hack up the archmage.*

Thinking he could bluff his way out of trouble (again) Myloeh calmly replied,

"Me? Go back? That way? Towards the screaming? I... I don't think so. Now

if you'll kindly unstick yourself from my hand.... I'm not even proficient

with a full long sword, let alone a half of one."

*I didn't say you had a choice 'hole digger'*

"I'll have you know my burrow was the....", Myloeh began before he was

interrupted. A horribly loud, mournful, off tune, wailing rendition of

"Mommy, I was your boy" began pounding in Myleoh's head.

*I know a hundred tunes and a thousand poems. Shall I recite them from A to

Z?*

"Damnable adventures! You'd think someone planned all this out just to make

my life miserable. Alright, Alright!! Just stop the caterwalling! I'll go

back to Hobar .... and Throckmir.... just to see if they live. But I'm no

fighter, and I can't backstab with you stuck to me like this. So... just let

go and I'll use my short sword ok?"

*Nice try 'dirty toes' but it will take more than my wanting it so to loosen

this pommel from your grasp. Only the mage can do that....or, maybe if he's

dead... Now go! Your friends are in peril! Doesn't that mean anything to

you?*

"Yea," Myloeh thought, "it means I'm next."

*******

Meanwhile, back at the ranch....

*******

"By the god's arse hair that was close!" Hobar yelled, looking through the

thickening smoke to where Throckmir was struggling with black snake like

tentacles that sprouted from the floor. He himself had just barely dodged the

full blast of a three forked lightning bolt. If it wasn't for their natural

defenses against magics they would both be corpses. Now, with the left side

of his face hairless, and the right side of his beard smoking, Hobar was

feeling the first real stirring of his anger. He'd been through too much,

lost all of his ale, and all because he thought it would be fun to plunder an

archmage's death bed. It would take almost a week to regrow his beard to it's

proper length... and the last time he lost his eyebrows it had taken a month

before his fellow dwarves had stopped giggling. It was personal now.... And

that damned halfling! If Hobar lived through this he would make the little

runt pay for betraying his trust. Now for honor! Now for glory. Now for

victory! Hobar bellowed his clan name and with the power of his scream

ripping through his throat he hurled himself back into the battle. This day

the mage would know a dwarf's revenge!!!

[Barrett ]

*

Hobar, holding his axe high over his head, charged the arch-mage, all the while yelling dwarven battle cries at an unbelievably high decibel level and leaving a smoking trail behind him (from the smoldering remains of his beard). When he was close enough, he quickly leapt to the side (a standard battle tactic to surprise your opponent) and swung his axe sideways, hoping to take the mage's left leg off. Martek, however, would not be defeated so easily. With but a wave of his hand the mage stood facing the enraged dwarf, not moving, not flinching a muscle. Hobar swung his axe with all his skill and might, but the axe suddenly struck an invisible shield to the dwarf's horror. The shock snapped the axe handle in two, and dislocated the dwarf's right shoulder. Falling backward in agony, the dwarf cursed the mage. "Damn your sneaky magics, and damn your soul!" he yelled in frustration. Martek laughed; Hobar sat on the floor cradling his arm, while Throckmir fought for his life against the black tentacles of sorcery.

"You both amuse me, I must confess," Martek smiled. "I haven't had this much fun since I fireballed that halfling village two centuries ago."

'Hmmmm,' Hobar thought. 'Maybe this guy isn't all bad.' Deciding he must act, and act quickly, Hobar bit down on the remains of his axe handle and grabbed his right arm firmly with his left hand. With a quick yank, his arm painfully was relocated. Grimacing, he lifted himself off the ground and faced the mage, his face an expression of pure hatred.

*

"Ok, sword, or Faffard, what's the plan?" Myloeh asked as he crept down the hall.

*First, you do not need to speak out loud. I am fully aware of your thoughts and actions. How well do you fight?* Faffard asked.

*Well, not too good actually. I am pretty good with my throwing knives.* Myloeh replied.

*Pathetic. What else can you do? Know any magic?*

*Not a bit. I am pretty stealthy, though. Problem is you don't make much of a weapon for backstabbing.* Myloeh said.

*Perhaps you won't need to. Think you can sneak up on the mage?* Faffard asked.

*Think? I am certain I can.* Myloeh said with a smile. Wrapping himself in his small cloak of elvenkind, the halfling blended into the shadow. Hugging the wall, he began to silently head down the corridor toward the mage and his friends, his heart in his throat, and a broken sword in his hand...

[Myloeh]

*

Throckmir finally managed to free himself from the tentacles. He cursed himself for getting caught in the mages trap and missing out on the main action. He would have been very envious of Hobar, however, as he noticed his fellow dwarf advancing on the wizard he also noticed Hobar no longer had his magnificent beard. Throckmir began to laugh but quickly remembered the seriousness of the situation. As his anger resumed it's intensity, Throkmir joined Hobar and together they advanced on the mage.

Martek stepped back a few paces. "All right. It's time to end this," he said and began to cast. Throkmir and Hobar calmly continued to advance. Their anger had left them totally speachless. That is, until, Martek finished his casting and uttered the phrase "meteor swarm!". At that, both dwarves lost it.

"Omigod!!!!!!!!", Hobar yelled and dived for cover.

"Incomming!!!!", Throckmir shouted as he too tried to get out of the way.

As the awesome power was about to be released by Martek, a small figured stepped out of shadows behind him. The small figure lifted his broken sword high in the air and let it fall squarely on Martek's thigh. As soon as the damaged weapon touched Martek, the mage simply vanished with a "poof" and a cloud of smoke. Martek continued to speak. "And when I'm through with you, you'll wish you were dead", Martek's disembodied voice proclaimed.

"What the...", Throkmir began as he raised himself off the floor.

"Uh?", Hobar wondered.

"Hmmm. Interesting sword. Strange effect", Myloh thought.

"Will you yield now?", Martek's voice continued.

"What the hell is going on here?", Hobar said.

"I think it's coming from over here", Myloh announced while he pointed to the back of the cavern. The group advanced in the direction the halfling indicated. Eventually, they arrived at a tapestry covering a portion of the wall. Myloh pulled back the tapestry and found himself face to face with a colorfully dressed gnome who was in the process of saying "That will teach you to anger the wise and powerful Martek!" At that point the gnome noticed the halfling and took a sharp intake of breath.

"Who the hell are you?" Hobar demanded.

"Um", the gnome thought. "I represent the lollipop guild", he said sheepishly.

[Flynn ]

*

Myloeh stared slack-jawed at the gnome, unable to believe who was standing in front of them. The gnome stared back at them, obviously nervous and embarrassed. "I said, who the hell are you?!" Hobar yelled at him. Throckmir stood there, axe in hand, breathing heavily. The two dwarves were an absolute mess to look at, with Hobar's hair and beard still slightly smoking and his arm hanging painfully at his side, while Throckmir simply a mess in general, covered from head-to-toe in blood and gore from his battles. Myloeh simply looked ridiculous holding a large broken sword.

Myloeh pointed the broken blade at the gnome. "Bandoor! What in the convoluted names of the gods do you think you're doing?!"

"Bandoor?" Hobar asked as he spun to look at Myloeh. Staring at the gnome, recognition slowly dawned across the dwarf's face.

Bandoor the gnome smiled sheepishly back at them. "Heh-heh, I guess you caught me."

"You're one dead rodent," Hobar said as he raised the remains of his axe handle over his head, ready to bash the gnome's skull to a pulp.

"Wait!" Myloeh shouted at him. "He hasn't even had time to explain what this is all about yet!"

"Good point, my little pointy-eared friend," Bandoor smiled at the halfling. "Let me see, where shall I begin? First, how did you guys manage to find this place?"

"Well, pretty much by luck. I won a map to the mountain from a sage by the name of Mirrow," Myloeh explained.

"Mirrow! That snake in the grass! He stole that map from me! Good thing I had made a copy for myself before he got it," Bandoor said with a smug grin.

"Get to the point! How did you come to get here?" Throckmir demanded.

"Well, you see, I discovered an ancient map to Martek's tomb in an old journal preserved in the Great Library of Drakmar. I brought it to Mirrow, who was the most respected scholar in the city, and asked his advice. He made up some silly story about it being nothing but a hoax and then offered to buy it from me. Suspecting him from the start, I politely refused. He sent a couple of goons to my room later that night and stole it from me, but not until after I had cleverly made a crude copy of it. Anyway, I high-tailed it out of town found my way here. After defeating the traps, I found my way here to the 'supposed' vault of Martek. Not wanting anyone to steal the treasure I had worked so hard to discover, I set up a few illusions and tricks to deter anyone from getting too close. Unfortunately, it was you guys who showed up. Before I realized who you were, I had set my plan in motion. I knew you would be upset if you found out I was here, so I hoped my little tricks would simply scare you off, no harm done," Bandoor said with a grin.

"No harm done!" Hobar blurted out. "You had good reason to fear us. I'm gonna ring your neck! And that's just for starters!" The two dwarves began to advance on the gnome, blood in their eyes.

"Wait!" Myloeh shouted at him as he grabbed his wounded arm. "Oops, sorry Hobar!" Hobar growled at the halfling but waited. "Where is the treasure, Bandoor? You owe us a share at least." The two dwarves were obviously annoyed at the mention of the word 'share' but said nothing for now.

"Well, now there is the rub. You see, we have a certain problem left to be dealt with," Bandoor grinned back at them.

"Such as?" Hobar growled.

"It's being guarded by a red dragon liche," Bandoor grinned back at him.

Hobar slapped his forehead in frustration, and the rest of the group became visibly downbeat. "Well, no time like the present. You and the halfling will take the lead, Bandoor, while Throckmir and I will follow. If I catch you screwing around you'll feel my axe in the back of your head," Hobar threatened.

"Right," Bandoor laughed. Shrugging to Myloeh, he turned and entered the secret passage.

[Myloeh]

*

* All right! A red dragon! I haven't had this much fun since I got all of my s---back.* Faffard said to Myloeh.

"What in the world are you talking about?" Myloeh said to the sword.

"Well I thought we'd have a look at this dragon leech thing our gnome is talking about," Hobar answered, thinking Myloeh was talking to him.

"It's a red dragon liche not a leech, you half deaf dwarf," chuckled Bandoor.

"What's a red dragon liche?" Throckmir said, echoing Hobar's exact thought's.

"Aye yei yei!! You must be crazy!" said Bandoor. "A liche is an undead butt kicker!!"

"Where the hell is Astrel when you need him?" Hobar said to nobody in particular, thinking hell probably wasn't far off.

The group decided to rest a little while before taking on the red dragon liche. Several of the party had wounds that needed tending. Hobar pulled a couple glass viles from deep within his pack. He drank one of the viles and seemed to stand straighter and carry his weight as he had prior to entering Martek's Tomb. Hobar handed a vile to Throckmir and told the dwarf to down the contents of the vile when the battle began.

*"How in the world am I gonna do anything with a broken sword against a dragon?" thought Myloeh.*

*"Well, we could sneak up on the dragon and cut its throat," Faffard offered. "Never fear my diminutive minion, I will lead you to victory. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."*

Myloeh thought about discarding the sword (* Tut Tut, don't think that way*), but found that he couldn't find it within himself to put the sword away. It was almost as though he now had two identities. Myloeh wasn't sure that he'd be able separate his thoughts from those of the sword when the time came. He decided that for now he'd think about what to do about a red dragon liche. Part of him thought, *run like hell* and another part thought, *yippy kai yea mother-f---er*.

After a few hours rest, the group continued on. Bandoor had the door held open and motioned for the group to proceed while he held the door. "OH No you don't," yelled Hobar as he grabbed the gnome by the scruff of the neck. Myleoh went first, the gnome was thrown second followed by Hobar and the Throckmir.

"What do you feed a red dragon liche?" chuckled Bandor.

"How about gnome shishkabob?" answered back Throckmir.

"No, anything he wants," answered back Bandor with a nervous edge to his voice. Bandor's jokes always got worse when he was nervous.

As the group traveled down the dark passage way, the smell of sulfur got stronger and stronger. Since all of the group could see with infravision, they decided to travel without a torch. There was a slight reddish glow that came from Myloeh's sword.

Odd, thought Myloeh, that none of my friends have noticed or care that I'm carrying a broken sword.

*"Heh, heh, heh. You know you are right. Wonder why that is?"*

[Hobar ]

*

"Hey, what's the deal with that piece of junk you're carrying around?" Naugrim whispered to the halfling.

"It's an intelligent cursed sword that requires me to wield it until it decides it's through with me. It's name apparently is Fagfard," Myloeh replied.

*Faffard! Faffard you dolt!* the sword screamed in his mind. Myloeh staggered a bit from the pain and leaned against the wall for a moment, accidentally clunking himself in the head with the hilt of the sword when he raised his hand to hold his head.

"What's your problem?" Hobar quietly growled at the halfling.

"Nothing, just a splitting headache," the thief mumbled.

"If you don't pull yourself together you'll get us all killed. Quit screwing around," Hobar said.

Bandoor looked at the halfling curiously. Moving next to him as they crept down the corridor he whispered, "Cursed sword, eh? Does it do anything but glow?"

"Don't know, but it seemed to dispel that illusion of Martek," Myloeh said with a shrug.

"Hmmmm..... You might want to keep an eye on it," Bandoor said. Myloeh nodded and the two of them crept silently toward the dragon's lair. The smell of sulphur continued to grow stronger and stronger as they moved forward. Ahead of them the group saw that the corridor suddenly widened into a huge cavern, the walls of which were well beyond the limits of their infravision. "Here we are," Bandoor grinned to the rest of the troupe. "Any plans before we meet our doom?"

"Just one," Throckmir said quietly as he patted his axe. "We kick major dragon butt."

"Ooooh, good plan," Bandoor said rolling his eyes. "How long did it take you to come up with that one? Does your brain hurt?"

Raising his axe over his head for a killing blow, Naugrim advanced on the gnome. "Idiot!" Hobar hissed at him. "You'll get us all killed. You can kill him later."

"Right," Throckmir said. Smiling cruelly at the gnome he turned to Hobar.

"Myloeh," Hobar began. "You and Bandoor sneak into the lair ahead of us and move into position to backstab the dragon, which is hopefully sleeping. When you see Throckmir and I in position to attack, you stab with all you have."

"What if the dragon is awake?" Myloeh asked nervously.

"Then we all die," Hobar said stoically.

"You know, sometimes I hate dwarves," Bandoor whispered to the halfling. Speaking a word of power and making a quick gesture, the gnome suddenly disappeared.

"What the?!" Naugrim said. "Where'd that big-nosed runt go?"

"Right here," the invisible gnome said. "Just a precaution. I would cast on the rest of you, but my spells are a bit low right now. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. You guys are my best shot at a share of this treasure."

Hobar looked worried but nodded. "OK. You two head off. We'll be right behind you." Myloeh gulped and looked at the glowing sword for a moment before he moved into the shadows. Moving as silently as possible, he and the gnome entered the massive cavern....

[Myloeh]

*

The details of the cavern slowly revealed themselves to the four diminutive adventurers, like a story teller building the suspense. First they saw the enormity of the cavern, fully a thousand feet in diameter with a ceiling that could not be seen. However, as they looked up they could make out a pinpoint of light at the limit of their vision. Gazing back down, all became aware of the sulfurous smell that permeated the entire cavern. The floor and walls were of smooth, almost polished black rock. Whether the smooth surfaces were created by the pacing of a dragon or the acidic effects of its breathing, all in the party could tell that there was not much around in the way of hiding places. Next to reveal itself was a huge pile of treasure all half hazardously piled around a large war galley. Awed at the thought of what it would have taken to capture and transport such a vessel into the center of a mountain, the party as a whole took a shaky step backwards to rethink their strategy. Even the masts and sails looked to be intact. The only hindrance one would have in sailing it away was the utter lack of water in the cavern. Unlike most caves that are moist with ooze, this cavern was dry. The air itself was depleted of moisture and all four adventurers could hear a slight rasping each time they took a breath. A sign of the presence of copious amounts of acid? As Bandoor gazed over the mound of loot, he saw that nearly the entire deck of the ship was covered in books. Myloeh instead noticed the enormous gems fixed into the wooden banshee shape that made up the prow of the ship. Hobar and Throckmir chose to look upon the weapons that were half-buried in the thousands of coins, barrels, chests, and boxes. Then, as the four began to again advance into the cavern, the last detail revealed itself. Why anyone would take the time to find out all the details of a cavern, when a very large, very ancient black dragon was stalking towards them, is beyond my understanding. However, just as a demented DM reveals certain death after teasing a party with untold treasure, the consciousness of each member of the party revealed the dragon after taking in everything else in the cavern. With a collective "oh, shit!!!!!", the group suddenly became four individuals struggling to survive.

[Grim]

*

****End of Edits******

Throchmir quickly downed the vial that Hobar had given him, and raced straight toward the dragon. He picked up

incredable speed to go along with his berzerker mentality.

Hobar watched Throckmir race toward death and thought, "Damn that dwarf is crazy or has balls of steel." Hobar

downed his own potion as he ran to engage the dragon on the right flank. Luckily the dragon spewed his first breath

weapon toward the secret door from which they had emerged and both Throckmir and Hobar were missed.

*RUN YOU FEABLE MINDED HALFWIT!!!!* screamed into Myleoh's mind. He spun and ran for the secret

door that he'd come through, knowing that the dragon would breath death upon them any second. He got through the

door and heard the splat behind him. The acid goo barely missed hitting him directly, but splattered him with the

splash. He felt some burning sensations but thanked his lucky stars that the sword had saved his life. *And don't you

forget it either.*

Bandoor stood invisable at the secret door having never moved into the cavern. He knew from his first experiance that

invisability would not help much against the dragon. Should he help the dwarves and halfling or should he run like hell?

Greed was the only thing that kept the gnome from completely abandoning the group. Bandor quickly moved back

within the secret passage as soon as he saw the dwarves begin to scatter. What to cast? Or should he try for a

backstab as Hobar had suggested.

[Hobar]

*

Hobar hacked at the undead dragon with his battle axe, removing huge chunks of half-rotten flesh and digging deep into the foul creature's leg bone. Throckmir swung his axe and struck the huge beast in the side, burying his axe deeply into its torso and splattering him with gore. "Gods, this is nasty work!" Hobar yelled to his dwarven companion. Throckmir yelled a dwarven battle cry in response, and both dwarves fought furiously, moving with incredible speed due to their skill and to the potions of speed which they had each drunk.

Myloeh looked down at the broken sword in his hand and rubbed at the burns which had begun to throb on his back and legs from the dragon's acid. "Well, what now sword?" he said with a mixture of fear and pain in his voice.

*Hold me out in front of you and speak the word 'shalkar' clearly and boldly* the sword Faffard replied.

Myloeh could not believe he was facing an undead liche dragon and taking commands from a sword. Shrugging, he obliged. "Shalkar," he mumbled. Nothing happened.

*Clearly and boldly! Clearly and boldly! The power is in your voice!* the sword demanded.

"Shalkar!" Myloeh cried. A shimmering shield formed in front of the small halfling, and as he turned to view it from the side he saw that the magical shield moved with him, always staying in front of his body. "Wow," the halfling said. "Very fancy."

* This is not a game you idiot! Get back in there now and fight like a man, or at least a reasonable facsimile of one!* Faffard yelled in his mind.

"Well, I suppose with this shield I should be ok, right? It must be potent stuff," Myloeh said, his courage increasing. He strode back into the cavern and with every step his confidence increased. He saw the huge form of the dragon liche fighting furiously with the two dwarves, and its head reared back suddenly in what was obviously a preparation for another breath attack. Both dwarves raised their shields in front of them and braced for the worst. "Hey, lizard!" the halfling shouted as he waved the broken sword in front of himself. "Come for me, you big nasty son of a hell hound! Yes, I'm talking to you!" the halfling yelled courageously. The dragon slowly turned to face him, a look of amazement showing clearly on his hideous face. The two dwarves quickly exchanged puzzled glances with each other as well.

"What is-s-s-s this-s-s-s, a mous-s-s-s-se with a broken toy come to challenge me?" the dragon roared. "I will have you as-s-s-s a s-s-s-snack, and then thes-s-s-se two nas-s-s-sty dwarves-s-s-s will s-s-s-suffic-c-c-ce to finish-h-h-h my meal." The dragon reared back and breathed fully on the small thief. The acid struck the shield before the halfling and acid splashed off on all sides, melting everything it came in contact with, including several pieces of treasure.

Myloeh nodded in appreciation and then bowed to the dragon. "Nicely done, but you waste your breath, ancient wyrm." Hobar and Throckmir exchanged puzzled glances, and Throckmir, suddenly realizing what must have happened, gestured to Hobar in such a way as to remind the dwarf that the halfling was carrying that mysterious blade. Hobar nodded, but as he did so his eye fell on a magnificent spear lying half-buried under a mound of treasure. Quickly grabbing it up, he noticed that it was heavily covered in runes, many of them signifying several of the greater deities of good alignment.

"Well, dragon, I hope you can do better than that!" the halfling baited. Waving the sword before him he gestured for the dragon to attack. "I am invincible with this thing!" Myloeh yelled. "Man, this is one great find!"

*Hold the sword in front of you, point it at the head of the dragon, and say 'Laikar!' Do it now!* the sword commanded. Doing as he was told, the halfling yelled "Laikar!" and a bolt of lightning shot forth, striking the undead dragon in the face, burning off what little flesh had been there and causing it to stagger back from the assault. "Excellent!" the halfling laughed.

Meanwhile, Bandoor had finally decided what he must do. Knowing no simple illusion would deceive a creature of this power, he prepared the only spell he thought might make a difference. The dragon, roaring in fury, reared back its head and snapped at the halfling, hoping to crush him in its jaws. The shield held, but Myloeh was terrified to see that the huge jaws which now engulfed him were beginning to cause the magical shield to falter. "Do something!" he screamed at the sword.

*I only have so many tricks. If you were injured I could heal you...* Faffard responded.

"Injured?!" the thief yelled. "I'm going to be dead!" Just then a blinding flash of light blossomed over the entire cavern, blinding all in the room with its dazzling brightness. Bandoor stood before them, shielding his eyes with his cloak. The dragon liche, however, seemed to suffer physical damage, and smoke began to rise from its entire body as it screamed in pain and fury.

Throckmir took advantage of the situation and, attacking somewhat blindly, hacked brutally into the beast's neck. Hobar, forcing his eyes to focus as best they could, aimed for the heart of the creature and threw the spear with all his might. The spear buried itself deeply into the creature, which was suddenly engulfed in flames. The adventurers ran back to avoid being crushed as the dragon thrashed and rolled in an attempt to extinguish the terrible fire, but finally it became still and then fell into a pile of ash. The spear had disappeared completely.

"Good gods!" Bandoor cried. "Where did that spear come from?"

"I found it over there," Hobar said and pointed. "Pretty lucky thing, too. The great D.M. in the sky has been kind."

"Well fought!" Throckmir yelled and nodded in agreement. "A glorious battle to be sure. This is one for the record books."

"Wow," was all the halfling could say.

"Hey, I thought you said the dragon was red?" Hobar suddenly remembered.

"A minor detail," the gnome replied. "Besides, we have more important things to consider. Like how to divvy up this treasure!"

[Myloeh]

*

"Typical," spat Throckmir, "the gnome wants to divy it up before we even know what's here!"

"What? What don't you see? There's a little of everything for everyone!" said Myloeh, awed even more by the wealth

around them now that he could safely take it all in.

"Whatever," mumbled Bandoor, "just... well, if anyone finds a short sword...."

...........

Myloeh had been wandering through the mound of coins trying to find a safe way up to the gally's prow when Faffard

again entered his mind.

*Hey, did you forget that I'm here? Go to the books! That's where we'll find the key to my curse.*

"Yea. I.... how often can you do that lightening/shield thing?" Myloeh quietly asked.

*The books!! I do not wish to spend the rest of 'your' life stuck on your hand!*

"Ok," Myloeh sighed, heading for the books, "what about the healing thing?"

*Damn you halfling...*

"Ok, ok....but I am a little hurt you know..."

Bandoor looked lovingly across the enormous mound of treasure and also sighed. "So much," he thought, "and so little

time." He risked a glance way up at the ceiling looking for a break in the rays of light from the top. He then snuck a

glance at the rest of the adventurers and, seeing them preoccupied, headed for the mound of books on the deck of the

ship.

Throckmir, still breathing a bit heavily, despite the twenty minutes that had passed after the fight, continued to curse all

undead black dragons while flinging bits of treasure around as he started digging a burrow through the coins.

Hobar, thrilled as he was with the outcome of the battle, couldn't let himself relax. While the others plundered the

horde, Hobar did a reconnaissance of the cavern. His mind wouldn't stop bugging him, and as he returned to the

treasure his gaze fell over the huge gems in the wooden banshee. Alarms went off in his mind as his dwarven battle

sense began to pulse. "The gems... a lich.... something about... liches and gems... and robes... oh..no.. not robes...

phylactery and liches and gems and death and..... GET OFF THE SHIP!!!!!!"

"Huh?" everyone said together (although Bandoor's 'huh' seemed insincere) "What's his problem?" Myloeh asked

Bandoor as they reached for the same book.

"I don't know," Bandoor replied, "but, ..do you smell somethin' cookin'"

Myloeh and Bandoor looked around the cavern and slowly returned their search to each other. Their eyes met and

they gave each other quizzical looks.... and then looked down.

"YYEEAAHHH!!!!" they screamed together as they saw tiny flames flickering across their toes. "It's us," Bandoor

cried "we're what's for dinner!"

Bandoor and Myloeh began to climb out of the growing flames when the world turned topsy turvey. Hobar had begun

to climb the pile of coins when he saw the pile of books erupt in a huge mass of paper, smoke, halfpints, and flames.

Myloeh and Bandoor were hurled through the air to land only the gods knew where. Hobar saw an avalanche of

treasure suddenly sweeping down at him, and, before he could get away, he was covered by a ton of coins, books,

and bounty. From out of the hold of the galley rose a tremendous red scaled dragon that roared with another huge

blast of fire aimed at the top of the cavern. Bandoor had just enough time to admire the sheer power of the

pseudo-jurassic scene before he lost consiousness.

The dragon quieted and looked slowly around the mess that he'd made. He regretted the loss of most of his books,

but as he stretched his wings he realized he should have switched bodies centuries ago. He had kept this body

preserved in the galley awaiting the day that he would finally don it. It was missing only a few scales, and, well, it fit

just right.

He stepped off of the ship and started to go in search of dead adventurers to eat when he heard some coins shift off to

his right. He lowered his head to investigate when a shower of coins erupted at the spot and the back of a great,

shaggy dwarven head burst from the pile of treasure. The dragon chuckled silently and opened his massive jaw.

Throckmir shoved his head out of the coins and with a troubled look in his eye said, "anyone smell somethin'...." - he

turned around and looked straight into the red dragon liche's throat - "cookin'?"

[Grim]

*

Throckmir's jaw dropped open as he stared up at the dragon. The creature looked down at him with an obvious expression of amusement on his face. Apparently he was thoroughly enjoying the situation, and intended to savor the moment before he savored the taste of dwarf. Myloeh, however, found himself flat on his back on a pile of books. Next to him lay Bandoor, with his arm twisted in an awful position and bleeding from his nose and mouth. Quickly and quietly, Myloeh examined his gnomish friend and was horrified to find that his arm was broken and that he had apparently suffered many internal injuries.

*Speak the word 'Falith' and touch the gnome with me. Do it quickly! You will need him in this battle if you hope to survive!* Faffard said.

Moving as quietly as possible Myloeh rose up on one knee. Behind him the dragon leaned over Throckmir, its breath scalding the dwarf who was desperately looking for an escape route. There was no sign of Hobar. "Falith!" Myloeh cried and touched the gnome with the sword. Instantly the gnome was bathed in white light, and his injuries were miraculously healed. "Wow," the halfling said again.

"Uuuugh, my head," the gnome moaned as he sat up and turned to Myloeh. "What happened? All I remember is that dragon rising up..." and his voice trailed off as he looked up at the dragon which was now facing them. "You should have left me for dead." he said to the halfling.

[Myloeh]

*

Hobar streched his arms and legs to see if he could move at all. He had been thrown back against the bulk head of the

ship by an avalance of gold that had been toppled by the emergance of the red dragon. Unable to move against the

gold, Hobar realized his back was against wooden bulk head. If he couldn't move the gold, maybe the wood. Hobar

heaved with all his might. He fell backwards as wood snapped, into what could be a cabin of the ship. Hobar still had

his pack, but his axe had been lost in the gold. Hobar looked around the cabin and considered his options of how to

help his friends.

[Hobar]

*

"The Die Come Up Craps"

"Worms-s-s-s-s," the dragon hissed. "By sh-h-h-heer dumb luck you defeated my las-s-s-st form. I will not make the s-s-s-same mis-s-stake twic-c-c-ce." Throckmir looked about him for anything to hide under or any possible avenue for escape. A foolishly brave creature, he knew that this situation was absolutely hopeless.

"Oh, what the hell," Throckmir shouted to himself more than to the dragon. "I'll be gods' damned if I die like a halfling." Pushing the treasure completely off of himself he rose to face the dragon and waved his axe at the creature. "Come on! Fight me, damn you!"

The dragon hissed in a frightful imitation of laughter. Inhaling mightily, the dragon let out a terrifying stream of fire at the dwarf who instantly turned into a pile of ash even before he could scream. "Nothing even left to eat," the dragon grumbled to itself as it poked through the ashes with one of its talons. Turning back to the other two small adventurers, it smiled. "And now for you two."

"A-whack-a-ding-hoy!" Throckmir shouted as he leapt onto the back of the dragon, burying his axe in the monstrous creature's back. "Die you big scaly bastard!" he shouted as he hacked mercilessly at the beast.

"Nice trick!" Myloeh shouted to Bandoor as they leapt to the attack. "When you whispered your plan to me I didn't think it would work!"

"Tut-tut, my good man! Have faith in your old friend!" Bandoor shouted back. By now the two had approached the right flank of the dragon and proceeded to backstab with all their might. Bandoor had quickly cast an illusion of Throckmir in front of the dragon while simultaneously making the real dwarf invisible. Normally, this would not have worked: the dragon would have seen through the illusion, not to mention the invisibility. Bandoor, however, had managed to steal a very powerful ring on his first foray into the cavern. He had decided, however, to keep this little secret to himself for now. Unfortunately, the ring was capable of creating only one superior illusion per day. He was now on his own.

The dragon screamed in rage and attempted to claw the dwarf off of his back. Throckmir, seeing that the situation called for prudence, jumped off of the draco-liche's back and landed on its left wing. Using this as a makeshift trampoline, he vaulted clear of the dragon and landed with a roll to the side. Bandoor and Myloeh stabbed at the beast, inflicting minor wounds before realizing that they were now the focus of the beast's attention. The dragon clawed at them with its talon, and both demihumans barely managed to avoid its deadly claw. "You know, this is starting to get on my nerves!" Myloeh exclaimed.

Searching through the cabin quickly, Hobar's eye fell upon a scroll resting on the remains of what appeared to be the captain's desk. Quickly glancing at it, he smiled in triumph and ran up onto the deck. Surveying the scene, he realized that his companions were in dire straits. He quickly read the scroll aloud, careful to ennunciate every word. He suddenly found himself surrounded in a faint glow which moved as he did. "Over here!" the dwarf cried. "I killed you once, and I'll do it again!" It was then that he remembered he did not have a weapon.

The draco-liche spun with surprising speed to face the battered and torn dwarf. Inhaling, it let loose with a fiery breath which instantly ignited the entire deck of the ship. Hobar, however, remained unscathed. "Hah!" he laughed at the dragon. "A protection from red dragons scroll. Who would have guessed? The great and mighty DM in the sky finds us amusing." The dragon, enraged, turned once again to the small adventurers.

"Run!" Bandoor cried as he sprinted for cover.

"Sword! Do something!" Myloeh squealed in terror.

*Sorry. All out of power for now, kid* Faffard replied.

The dragon raised one of its fore claws to crush the halfling. Myloeh, in desperation, raised the broken sword over his head in a pitiful act of defense. The dragon slammed its foot down, crushing the halfling into a nasty paste but unfortunately impaling its talon in the process. The sword, imbedded deeply into the dragon's foot, was not damaged, however. Howling in pain, the dragon held its wounded talon up weakly, causing the creature to lose its balance and drop its guard.

"Myloeh!" Bandoor yelled. "You stupid idiot! Why didn't you run!"

"Good thing that rodent bought me some time or else that might have been me," Throckmir said with a tear in his eye.

"Damn that halfling," Hobar said to himself as the ship continued to burn around him. "He owed me money." It was then that Hobar remembered that he still did not have a weapon. Searching around the burning ship, he also remembered what happened to wood that was burning even if he was temporarily immune to fire. "Damn," was all he had time to say before he fell through the weakened deck with a loud crash.

[Vulpine, filling in for the dearly departed Myloeh]

*

"dragon guts and little butts, thats what halflings are made

of"

He had squashed one of the thieves and still the others laughed and joked - enough was enough! Infuriated the

dragon-lich howled a challenge and rushed at the dwarf who was recently on his back. At the same time he swept his

gigantic tail in an arc that would catch whatever had been talking to the now squished halfling. Roaring in pain, for with

each step the broken sword dug deeper into his foot, the dragon snapped at the dwarf with his massive jaws.

Throckmir (Myloeh quickly forgotten with so much else to think about) escaped in the only direction he could -

straight down into the coins. Meanwhile, the dracolich's tail met something invisible with a loud "thwack!", and even

from within the burning ship Hobar could hear the gnome screaming "play ball!" as he was hurtled into the far reaches

of the cavern.

Thinking to hasten his return to the battle, Hobar chose to go through the side of the ship rather than climb back out.

Grabbing the first weapon he could lay his hands on (a cutlass), he hacked mightily against the wood and was

rewarded with a loud splintering noise. He began to hack in earnest and suddenly realized he was once again feeling

the heat of the raging fire surrounding him. "Gods be damned magics! For once, just for once, I'd like them to work

properly around me!" He reached to strike again at the ship when the side caved in and (again) Hobar was buried in

gold.

"Rule number eighty - when invisible, shut thy mouth." Bandoor mumbled as he stroked a feather in his cap and floated

softly to the cavern floor - mere inches from the cavern wall. When his feet touched down he reached out to lean

against the wall and nearly lost his balance as his hand passed through yet another illusion. "Hmmmm!!" Bandoor

thought as he stepped forward and disappeared from sight (well, he was invisible already but you get the idea).

The dragon clamped down on a maw full of money and then spat a shower of coins through the air in frustration.

Angered beyond thought, the dragon inhaled sharply preparing for another blast of fire. Right then Throckmir

reemerged wearing a golden girdle that he had found deep in his burrow. The dragonlich smiled and loosed the

greatest burst of fire yet seen from his mouth. Flame, enhanced by ancient magics, poured from the dragon's throat

and enveloped Throckmir fully. His hair was blown straight back and his pack was ripped off his shoulders from the

incredible winds the blast produced, but, Throckmir was still there and still smiling back at the dragon. The dragon

continued to unleash the breathweapon and Throckmir was bathed in fire. He chuckled, raised his ax for a killing

blow.... and realized he was sinking into molten gold. "Eh?" he wondered just before he slipped on liquified treasure

and dropped face first into the pool of gold.

Hobar also found himself suddenly covered in melted coins. The pile that had been around the hole in the ship poured

through that hole and filled the cabin he was in. He screamed in pain and his mouth filled with boiling gold. Hobar

struggled for life and thought of granddwarvkins that he would never see. His last thought before he lost consiousness

was that he would probably never be found.

Not wanting the dwarf he was fighting to get away, the dragon ceased his breath attack and plunged his head into the

golden lava. When he lifted his head, he had the dwarf grasped fully in his mouth (that sounds kind of pornographic...).

Liquid gold dribbled down his chin (stop it Grim!) and the dragon opened his mouth wider to swallow (....) the dwarf

down.

The dragon burped softly and looked around for more people to eat. It seemed that he had thwarted another band of

thieves, although at a great cost to his hoard. It was then that he remembered the sword in his foot. He reached down

with a foreclaw to remove the weapon when he heard a voice in his head.

*I don't think you want to do that, Erinsoul*

"What the hell?" the dragon gasped "I haven't been called that in a thousand years."

*And I haven't been able to... shall we say, stretch my legs for that same thousand years.*

The dragonlich looked closer at the halfsword stuck in his foot, and remembered a battle long, long ago. "Faffard, its

you..."

*Well it sure ain't Bozo!*

The dragon began to feel a terrible pain in his head and he felt his control over his body being torn away.

"You...can't...push...me...out......."

And then the essence that was Erinsoul was thrown back to his crystal prison.

"Oh to move again!!!!" Faffard shouted, stretching every part of his dragon body that could be stretched. "And to

once again breath the air!" Faffard inhaled a mighty breath... and felt his belly burst open across the floor. Ax swinging,

Throckmir gushed out of the dragons stomach and slid across the smooth floor.

"No!", Faffard screamed, "No!!!!!!" The same conduit of power that grabbed Erinsoul's soul latched onto Faffard's

life force and sucked it into the same crystal.

Faffard found himself looking through a distorted window at the remains of a small band of adventurers. He realized

that he now existed in the gems on the prow of the ship.

Throckmir sat stunned on the floor of the cavern. All that remained of the huge hoard of treasure was a ten ton slab of

gold, two chests that appeared unscathed, a lone book (again unburned), and the burned out hull of a ship (with two

large gems secure in the prow). He could see Hobar (or what looked like a golden statue of Hobar) lying in the still

smoldering hull. All around Throckmir was a rotting mass of dragon guts... and what looked like halfling buttocks. He

wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, where the gnome's body lay. And then, looking at his hands, arms and

body covered in a fine layer of gold, said, "From 'Ice Boy' to 'Golden Boy'... if they could only see me now."

[Grim]

*

"Reunion with an Old Friend"

"Well Bozo, we meet again." Jake said staring down at the gnome with a loaded heavy crossbow. "Glad to see that

you survived the ordeal. I'll need some help carrying treasure out of this hellhole. If you're a good little gnome, I might

even let you keep a few gold pieces for your trouble."

Bozo stiffled a quick retort considering Jake Armagedon's reputation of having a quick trigger finger. He looked

around the hidden room that he was now in. Obviously Jake had been in this room for a while. The room contained a

meager bedchamber and a small desk with some papers strewn across. Jake had a blood soaked bandage around his

left thigh and seemed to be favoring that leg. There was a small door that lead out of this room. Bozo quickly surmised

that Jake had been injured, found this room and taken refuge to allow himself to heal. "Hey, I'm on your side man.

Let's kill the dragon lich and those foolish dwarves and split the treasure. Considering I know you to drive a hard

bargin, I'll settle for 25 percent of the goods."

A smile split Jake's lips. This would be easier than he thought. He looked out into the cavern to see Throckmir

disembouling the dragon lich. He might be able to deal with the gnome, but the berzerker dwarf must die. "OK Bozo,

if you're a good little gnome and do what you are told, you can have 25 percent. This is what we'll do�..

[Scuz]

*

"And Then There Was One..."

Throckmir quickly wiped and scraped the gold from his body, realizing that once it cooled he might become stuck in a golden cast just as had happened to Hobar. "Poor, poor Hobar. It's a pity he had to die like that. I wonder what price I can get for a golden statue of a rather ugly dwarf? Could be a tough sell." He suddenly heard a muffled sound coming from the statue. Throckmir bent low to hear, and even though the dwarf's face was almost completely covered in gold he could still make out a string of muffled curses. "Hobar, you old dog, you're alive! I am indeed impressed." Pulling out a hand axe he moved to hack through the gold, but was interrupted by a new string of muffled cursing. "Oh, yeah, I guess you might get hurt if I chop the gold off you," Throckmir laughed. Searching around quickly he found an ornate dagger which turned out to be surprisingly sharp and strong. Using this he was able to free Hobar after almost an hour from his golden encasement. Hobar had managed to survive by a combination of stamina and the scroll of protection, which had just enough magic left to protect him from the molten gold almost until it had completely cooled. Unfortunately, all of Hobar's hair and flammable clothing had been burned off in the process. He was covered in first-degree burns, leaving his entire body a bright pink. Throckmir stared in amazement at his friend, mouth open yet unable to say anything.

"Damn, you are one stupid dwarf!" Hobar yelled at him. "And look at me! I'm completely pink and bald!" he yelled as he ran his hand over his head.

"And your beard is gone," Throckmir said with a frown.

"My beard! Aaaargh!!!" Hobar screamed in fury. "I have been emasculated!" A dwarf without a beard, especially a male, is considered a public disgrace, and simply put a freak by the dwarven community. "Well, looks like I'll have to kill myself," he said with resignation. "Give me that handaxe. I'll chop my own head off."

"Ok, here you go," Throckmir said as he handed him the axe. "This should be interesting." Hobar shrugged and raised the handaxe over his head with both hands. "Stop!" Throckmir cried. "You might as well wait until after we search the only treasure left," he motioned to the two chests, large book, and two gems on the hull of the ship.

"Ok," Hobar shrugged. "Then I'll kill myself as befits a disgraced dwarf."

"Right," Throckmir agreed. Deciding which chest to open first, he finally settled on an ancient form of divination: "Eenie-meenie-miney-mo, catch a kobold by the toe..." And settled on the largest of the two chests.

"Allow me. I have nothing left to live for," Hobar said. Raising the axe high he chopped into the lock on the chest, knocking it off. To his amazement he noticed a small pool of blood drip from the lock clasp to the floor of the cavern. "Huh," he said thoughtfully. Suddenly the chest rose up on four legs which formed from its base, and two large and powerful clawed arms formed from its sides. "Mimic!" both dwarves cried. The two fought bravely but the chest grabbed both of them in its claws. The lid flew open, revealing a huge mouth full or rows of very nasty sharp teeth. "Aaaaaaaa!" they both screamed as the chest stuffed them in and the lid slammed shut. "Damn! Twice in one day!" Throckmir's muffled voice yelled. The mimic shook several times as if its meal did not completely agree with it, but after several moments released a powerful belch and settled back down to enjoy its meal.

"Fascinating," Jake said as he watched the whole affair. "I must confess I had hoped to kill those two myself, but that was really quite entertaining."

"I agree," Bozo said as he quickly cast a cantrip (a minor spell) and removed the illusion which had allowed him to pass for Bandoor. "Very nice kill. I give it an 9.3," he chuckled. "Jake, thanks again for inviting me on this little job of yours. I have to admit this is the most fun that I've had since I torched that orphanage a couple of weeks back."

"Think nothing of it," Jake smiled. He watched the devilish gnome very closely, waiting for an opportunity to catch him off guard and end his miserable wretched little life once and for all. "What are friends for?"

"Exactly," Bozo smiled. "Well, let's get down to business. Could you remove those two large gems on the hull of the ship, and I'll get to work on the other chest?"

"Don't get them confused," Jake laughed. He pulled out a dagger and moved to the hull. After I remove the gems, he thought, a quick flick of my wrist and this dagger of venom will catch that little quasit right in the back. Reaching up to the gems he was stunned by their beauty and instantly knew they were worth a great deal. As he touched one, however, he instantly felt his soul being torn away. "What?!" he screamed in fear. "Help! Help me, Bozo! Aaaaaaa!!!" and as his soul entered the gem his body fell to the floor of the cavern with a thud.

"Oh, by the way, watch out for those soul gems," Bozo laughed. "Oops, I guess I forgot about those. Pity. It's a pity I didn't get to kill you myself," he smiled as he removed the half-orc's head with his own sword which he had just picked up. "I think I'll keep your head and your sword as trophies to add to my growing collection. Every gnome needs a hobby." After looting the assassin of everything worth taking, he quickly opened the other chest, removed its treasure, grabbed the book, and then stood surveying the cavern. "Quite a little adventure I must say," he smiled. "But I have to admit I am looking forward to spending a little quiet time relaxing at home with a good bottle of wine and my new book here," he said as he patted the large ancient tome. "Toodle-ooo," he waved to the gems as he left through the secret door.

[Vulpine]

*

Epilogue:

Hobar sat a top a mound of melted gold treasure, stroked his beard and sipped a long draught from his flask. He enjoyed the

taste of ale which he had been deprived of these last couple days. He had managed to retrieve his axe after some hours work

from within a pile of melted gold. He had not had this much fun for quite awhile.

Myloeh called out to Hobar, "I have found a scroll which I believe will remove the curse from the sword named Faford. Do

you think that we should use it?" Myleoh had removed the persona of a young halfling thief and had taken on his usual

persona of halfling magi.

Throckmir answered Hobar by saying, "I've heard stories of a great warrior named Faford, perhaps the sword and the

legend are the same. I say let us release him." Throckmir had changed as well. Instead of a young impetuous, berzerker dwarf

was an old grizzled warrior. Battle scars were evident on much of his body and the grey in his beard spoke of the many years

this dwarf had endured.

"I agree," said Hobar, "we have unfinished business to attend to. Our frolic of reliving our younger years was indeed

entertaining, but we owe a certain gnome a visit. I also wish to hear what happened to Jake." Jake Armegedon's clothes lay in

a heap in a pool of dried blood at the base of the prow of the ship. His body was nowhere to be seen.

Myleoh began reading from the scroll and a strange glow began to emanate from the prow of the ship and from the foot of

the dragon. A few moments later, a man dressed very strangely walked out of the shadows of the cavern. He was carring a

very odd assortment devices which could only be weaponry of some sort.

"I am Faford, and you have my gratitude for my freedom." Faford quickly relayed the story of how he had been imprisoned in

the sword during a battle between the mage Martek and his pet dragon. He had spent many hundreds of years imprisoned in

the sword and had only managed to make his way here within the last century. He also told the group of how Jake had been

sucked into the gems and had his body decapitated by the gnome Bandoor. Bandoor had turned out to be the gnome Bozo.

After Bozo had collected some of the treasure and left, Jake's body had slowly faded away.

"So tell me, how is it that you three live and are much older and different than first you appeared?" inquired Faford.

A sparkel entered Myleoh's eyes and he replied, "Knick, Nack, Paddy, Wack, give the dog a bone, to he who plays the

game well, the answers are shown."

Hobar laughed at the halfling's joke, knowing that Faford would not understand. "That's a tale for another day my friend.

Let's just say that we were prepared for all eventual outcomes."

"Well, do we go after the gnome, try to figure out what became of Jake, or start a new adventure?" Throckmir asked the

group as a whole.

Myleoh pulled out a small box and rattled it. "How bout we roll the dice to decide?" chuckled the halfling.

[Hobar]

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