Keith Strohm - The Tomb of Horrors

It didn’t take long for Majandra to add her own voice to theever-present music that swelled around her. Gently at first, and then with more confidence, she wove her rich alto tone around and beneath the nattering birds, providing a harmonic base that added depth to the natural chorus. She felt her step lighten. The oppressive weight of the marsh air lifted, and she was gratified to notice that those around her were feeling the same effects.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that she noticed something waswrong. Cocking her ear to the side, she listened intently for whatever it was that had teased her intuition. She heard nothing. Silence filled the swamp, a brooding absence of sound. She realized then that it was this silence that had struck her as odd. Only a few moments ago, the area had been filled with the sounds of life. Now, the swamp seemed frozen, as if waiting for something to happen.

The hairs on the back of Majandra’s neck stood almoststraight up. The bard couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody was watching her.She scanned the surrounding vegetation, shielding her eyes with her hand, but could detect nothing. Unbidden, the memory of her sighting the other day crept into her mind. Despite the heat, she shuddered. What if someone-or something-waswatching them right now? There were far more dangers in this swamp than wandering lizard folk and the occasional alligator.

Majandra stood still, scanning the lush undergrowth, determined to discover this secret threat. The rest of the expedition walked past her, by now used to the half-elf’s penchant for stopping and appreciatingthe grandeur of the Vast Swamp. She could make out the back of the last guard as he pushed through the thick branches of a thorn bush and disappeared down the path. Still, she watched-and listened.

There! She heard something off to her right, a rustling in the bush. Carefully, she crept toward the sound, padding lightly on her feet. With only a slight scrape of metal on leather, she drew her short sword and sent a vicious cut into the center of the vegetation. A raucous scream met her attack, and she stumbled back as a brightly plumed bird exploded from the bush, taking flight with another harsh cry. Majandra swore as she sheathed her sword and tried to calm the pounding of her heart.

Still, the feeling of being watched grew. She spun around once-sure that there must be a hundred hidden eyes peering at her. With one lastbackward glance at the trees, she broke into a run.

It was time to find Gerwyth.

By the time Majandra found the ranger, he was deep in conversation with Kaerion along the side of the path. The fighter had shrugged off his pack and was carefully donning his chain mail armor. The normally placid elf’s face was turned into a frown, and Majandra could see the crease of worrylines around his mouth. She found her own mood equally as serious as she walked up to the two warriors.

“Gerwyth, I think something is behind us. It-”

The elf held up his hand. “I know,” he said in a soft voice.“We have been followed for several days. I couldn’t be sure, for whoever orwhatever it is knows this land exceptionally well. This morning, I found traces of a viscous slime along the base of several bushes.” He pointed down to themuddied ground, at a small smear of thick liquid hanging from the bottommost branches of a marsh bush.

“I will alert Vaxor and Bredeth,” said Kaerion, his voiceheavy with concern. “What about Phathas?”

“He already knows,” replied the ranger. “I informed him of myconcerns this morning. Kaerion, once we have alerted the rest of the expedition, we must be very careful not to let our guests know that we have discovered their presence. There is a stand of uprooted trees about a league south and east of here. I scouted it out earlier. It is the most defensible position I could see within a half-score of miles. If we can make it there, we have a chance of surviving whatever surprise is in store for us.”

“Who could be following us?” Majandra asked, worried evenmore by the concern that filled the faces of the warriors. If the situation was tense enough to put Kaerion and Gerwyth ill at ease, then it was serious indeed. “I thought we had evaded most of the lizard folk patrols in the area.”

The ranger shrugged. “It is difficult to say exactly howsuccessful one can be in evading the lizard folk,” he said. “Truth be told, Ithink that we led those tribes on a merry enough chase that they decided to let us pass. No, my guess is that we re dealing with another race of swamp creatures-most likely siv or bullywugs. If it’s the latter, then we should praywe can reach the relative safety of our prospective camp tonight.”

Majandra turned to help Kaerion adjust his mail. By the time she finished, Gerwyth had left to inform Landra and the rest of the guards. Kaerion thanked Majandra for her assistance and then flashed her a brief smile as he strode toward Bredeth, who was currently adjusting the straps to his own pack.

Fully aware now of the unseen enemy that dogged their steps, the expedition set out again at a brisk pace. Though no one gave any outward sign that possible death lurked just beyond the screen of vegetation rising up on either side of the rough trail, Majandra couldn’t help tossing a few glancesbackward, sure that she would see a spear or crossbow bolt arcing toward her unprotected back.

She saw nothing.

The group plodded on in silence, occasionally marking the sun’s slow, lazy arc in the sky. As the evening shadows grew, so did thetension. Each step brought an image of fearsome swamp creatures jumping out of the growing darkness to rend the flesh of friends and comrades. When Gerwyth led the expedition up a sharp rise into the waiting arms of their campsite Majandra dropped her pack and let out an explosive sigh as she ducked under the twisted wall of roots that blocked the main approach to their site.

Gerwyth called the guards to unload the rafts and lash them up against several of the fallen trunks on the sides of the camp. Once completed, the group would have a makeshift fortress that would offer them additional protection against assault.

The entire camp hustled with purpose as first Gerwyth and then Kaerion issued orders. It wasn’t long before Bredeth came by, enlistingMajandra’s aid in gathering wood and starting the large watchfire at the centerof the site. The half-elf could see Vaxor and Phathas conferring in quiet tones as she bent under the weight of her load, but the rest of the camp’spreparations were lost to her beneath the countless repetition of snatching wood with deft fingers and scooping it into an orderly pile near the hastily dug fire pit.

Several hours later, Majandra sat bathed in soft light as the moons dangled in the night sky like jewels. With the camp’s defensive measuresin place and a solid network of sentries posted, the level of tension among the members of the expedition had dissipated somewhat, settling into an uneasy wariness. Dinner that evening consisted of a thick root soup and dried beef. Stomachs full and boots removed, most of the guards not on watch had already settled into their bedrolls.

The bard yawned once, stretched, and grabbed the leather case that protected her harp from the sting of the elements. She stifled another yawn. The unrelenting tensions and exertions of the day had definitely taken their toll on her. She had spent far too much time away from the instrument that had been her guiding passion for so many years. Gently, almost reverently, she unlaced the strings of the case and removed the harp. Its rich, stained wood melted into the evening darkness, but its strings caught the silvered moonlight, held it for a brief moment, and then cast it back like soft, jeweled fire.

The half-elf ran nimble, calloused fingertips across the glowing strings and winced at the jangle of sounds. Master Parvus would likely throw an apoplectic fit if he had heard what her neglect had done to the tuning of his harp. Deftly, she adjusted the tautness of each string with minute turns of the instrument’s wooden pegs, until at last, a chord of almost heartbreakingpurity thrummed from the vibrating strings.