Keith Strohm - The Tomb of Horrors

The others had complained incessantly throughout the day about the unpleasant aroma, but Majandra hadn’t really minded it at all. Beneaththe acrid tang of rot, her refined elven senses detected the heady bouquet of life. What was occurring in and around the standing water was a continuation of a cycle so ingenious and complex, so delicate and yet so relentless that it pulled at her heart. What was, to humans, an awful assault on their senses, was to one of her blood a doorway into a communion with something far deeper and mysterious than words would allow her to express.

Out here, even in the deadly embrace of one of the world’smost dangerous places, she felt free. What would life be like once they completed their quest and she returned to the cold, dead walls of Rel Mord? The answer did not come to her. She only knew she no longer hoped for a speedy end to their expedition.

A faint rustle in the undergrowth off to her left drew her attention back to the moment at hand. The sound repeated itself as the bard scanned the dense expanse of vegetation. Majandra caught her breath. For a split second, beneath the wizened height of a tangle of manga trees, she could have sworn she’d seen the burnished gleam of two large, round eyes reflecting thedying light of the sun. She peered intently at the spot again.

Nothing.

Cursing herself for a nervous child, the half-elf lifted her traveling pack and made her way toward the front of the line. A few moments later, Gerwyth gave the order to move out. Thoughts of food and a chance to sleep beneath the stars filled her mind as the expedition trudged relentlessly forward. Beneath the steady tread of the caravan, Majandra soon forgot the memory of those cold eyes peering out from the underbrush.

Above her, the stars flickered to life, shedding their cold fire upon the earth.

Durgoth Shem looked in disgust at the creature huddled before the small fire. The beasts mottled yellow skin shimmered and pulsed sickeningly in the firelight. Thankfully, rotting leather armor covered most of its humanoid form-though he could still make out the layer of mucous that covered arms, legs,and the creatures froglike face. Occasionally, gobs of the stuff rolled off the bullywug’s body and hit the muddy ground with a stomach-heaving splorch.

“What ish it you want from ush?” the creature asked, itsbulbous eyes regarding the cleric gravely. “Why have you not deshtroyed ush?”

The dark priest stared in sickening fascination at the bloated length of the creature’s tongue as it lolled about in its wide,thin-lipped mouth. Even with the power of his spell allowing him to understand the frothing consonants, clicks, and squeals that the bullywug used for its language, his human ears had a difficult time comprehending the beasts thick-tongued words.

Finally able to tear his eyes away from its disgusting features, Durgoth looked around at the pile of broken, amphibious bodies that surrounded the fire. Around him in a circle stood Eltanel, Sydra, Jhagren, and Adrys-along with the fear-filled cultists who remained alive. The cleric castanother glance to the left of the firepot, where the golem stood, still holding the cracked and bloodied spine of a bullywug between its meaty hands.

The attack had come swiftly, without warning. At first, Durgoth thought it simply the predations of a hungry beast, for that was what had crashed into their lines. It had only taken a few moments for the defenders to react to this attack, and the furred creature was already put down when humanoid figures had erupted violently from the surrounding trees. More furred beasts had appeared in the fray, and Durgoth watched as these beasts had turned on the bullywugs, killing almost as many of them as he and his cultists. It hadn’t been very long until the battle was over and several creatures, includingthe one that huddled before his fire, had been captured.

“I did not destroy you,” the cleric replied at last, “becauseI believe that you and your companions can be of some use to me.”

The creature nodded. “Yesh. Jusht tell Braggsh what it ishthat you wish,” it said. “Braggsh will make sure that Braggsh’sh pondmatesobey.”

Durgoth’s lip curled at the bullywugs pathetic mewling.Disgusting creatures, he thought, half-considering whether he should just kill the ones who remained and be done with it. “That is good, Braggsh. I see weunderstand each other. Very well. There are other intruders to your lands, about a day’s march to the east. See to it that not a single one of them leaves thisswamp alive.”

Braggsh’s eyes blinked slowly beneath the flickering light ofthe fire. “Yesh. Braggsh knows the intruders you shpeak of. They are led by apointy earsh. It ish very shkilled. Pond deshide to let them passh. Too much trouble to kill.”

“I want them dead,” the cleric said again, nearly shouting atthe vile humanoid. “Is that clear?”

The bullywug nodded once more, but Durgoth could hear the wet smack of Braggsh’s throat as the creature swallowed hard. “But the pond-”

“I care nothing for the whims of your stupid pond,” Durgothshouted. “You will do exactly as I say, or I shall stake your entire pond on thedriest ground beneath the heat of the noon sun. Do I make myself clear?”

He uncurled his fist and held it before him. With a whispered prayer, Durgoth channeled the smallest fraction of his god’s power through hisupturned hand. Waves of darkness reached out to the frightened bullywug, and the creature writhed in pain, emitting a horrifying sound somewhere between a scream and a gurgle.

Durgoth almost groaned in pleasure as he felt the dreaded hooks of Tharizdun’s power tear into the creature’s spirit. He held the contactfor a moment more and then, with a sharp wave of his hand, he released the tortured beast.

It rolled around on the muddy ground for quite some time before huddling once more at the cleric’s feet. “So,” Durgoth said as Braggshshook with fear, “do we have a deal?”

“Yesh,” Braggsh said. “The intrudersh will be deshtroyed ashyou command.”

Durgoth scowled at the pathetic beast. He knew that the creature’s first thoughts would be to betray him. Such base animals always did.He slowly let his scowl turn into a smile. “One more thing, Braggsh,” he said assweetly as he could, “if you even think about betraying me, I will allow mymaster to feast upon your soul slowly, and the pain you felt just now will feel like the sweetest pleasure next to the Dark One’s kiss. Now begone, and takeyour pathetic pondmates with you.”

Braggsh let out another long, screeching gurgle-whether fromfear, anger, frustration, or all three, Durgoth did not know or care.

He knew the disgusting creatures couldn’t destroy theNyrondese band. But, he thought, they will slow them down enough so that we might catch up. He turned his back on the bullywugs, closed his eyes, and smiled.

The next five days passed in a haze of heat and almost constant motion for Majandra. Rest stops were infrequent and taken only as a necessity-mostly to apply herbs to insect bites and treat the odd wound. Despitetheir precaution, the expedition was forced to battle its way past several more fanged alligators and even one vampire vine. Lizard folk were, thankfully, not in evidence.

Throughout the long days and seemingly instantaneous nights, the half-elf’s fingers itched to pluck at the graceful strings of her harp.Unfortunately, her body’s exhaustion forced her to throw herself into herbedroll as soon as the evening meal was complete, rousing only when prodded forcefully by the rest of her companions. As a result, Majandra’s instrumentremained silent, packed carefully away in its waterproof case.

On the ninth day since the expedition entered the Vast Swamp, dawn woke bright and clear. Majandra groaned as she extricated herself from the bedroll in what had become a regular morning ritual. After a sullen breakfast of hard biscuits and dried meat, she gathered her pack and set off after the third rank of travelers in the expedition. By midmorning, the heat had become a fist that pounded into her body with each step. Despite the oppressive temperature, the half-elf couldn’t help but smile. The trees in this part of the Vast Swampwere thicker, their branches sprouting thick green leaves and colorful buds. Taking advantage of this bounty, more than threescore birds sat atop the tall trees, flitting quickly from branch to branch and filling the air with the melodic chatter of their song.