Keith Strohm - The Tomb of Horrors

Kaerion fell back quickly, his long sword in guard position. Briefly, he wondered where the bard had come across such large gemstones. Full of surprises, that one, he thought, a brief smile flickering across his face-replaced quickly by a frown as he remembered where they were. There wouldbe time for such idle speculation later.

Nothing happened.

Kaerion let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding andsaw the others do the same. Poised for flight before the statue, Majandra relaxed and held out a second gemstone. Again, she placed it in one of the gargoyle’s hands.

Again nothing happened.

Kaerion saw her cast Phathas a rueful grin as the wizard leaned on his staff, staring with interest at the stone monster. The half-elf placed a third gem into the creature’s hand, and Kaerion let out a cry ofwarning as he saw the gargoyle’s fingers twitch slightly. A moment later, thebeast’s claws closed sharply about the stones. Running toward Majandra, Kaerionheard a loud grinding sound, and a spray of glistening red powder erupted from the statue’s hands.

Pulling the half-elf away from the gargoyle, he was surprised at the string of invective that issued forth from the bard’s mouth. Kaerion wascertain he caught fragments of at least four different languages he was familiar with in the torrent of curses that poured out of her mouth, and at least as many languages that he had never heard before.

Stunned silence filled the room as Majandra finally brought herself under control. Several of the guards shifted from foot to foot, obviously amused in the wake of the half-elf’s blistering anger, but toorespectful to comment on it.

“My dear child,” Phathas said at last, breaking the silence,“you do understand that our goal here is to collect treasure from this dreadfultomb and bring it back with us to Rel Mord, and not the other way around?”

Even in the pale light, Kaerion could see the tips of the half-elf’s ears turning red. Companionable laughter broke the tension and sooneven the normally dour Heironean cleric chuckled at Majandra’s discomfort.Kaerion turned away from the embarrassed half-elf, who had finally given up on trying to maintain any semblance of dignity and now wiped tears of laughter from her own eyes, to check on Adrys, who had remained silent through this entire exchange.

The boy was not there.

All levity leeched from Kaerion’s body as he scanned theroom, hoping that the merchant’s son was merely lost in the press of bodies. Hishope was crushed, as swiftly and as surely as the gemstones that they had so recently placed in the hands of the gargoyle.

“Has anyone seen Adrys?” he asked, his voice cutting throughthe surrounding laughter.

“He was just here a moment ago,” one of the guards responded.

“Come on,” Kaerion shouted to his companions, “we have tofind him!”

He bolted from the room, lighting a torch and pushing past the guards who stood sentry at the mouth of the tunnel. If anything happened to the lad, the boy’s blood would be on Kaerion’s hands-hands that were alreadysoaked in the blood of innocents.

The tunnel ran at an angle briefly and then straightened. Kaerion cursed as the area quickly narrowed and he was forced to crawl. The tunnel soon opened into a room of similar length and construction as the hall from which they had entered the tomb. Bright paintings covered the smooth walls of the room. Wild colors swirled and ran together with all the energy of a pulsing rainbow. Though different from the paintings that covered the entrance hall, the pictures depicted by the mad brush of the long-dead artist contained the familiar animal/human hybrids that were the subject of so much of the tomb’sartistry. Some of these creatures, however, held globes of bright color between their hands.

Much to his relief, Kaerion found Adrys standing in the middle of the room, a torch held high in one hand. Running over to the lad, Kaerion checked to see that no harm had come to him. Satisfied, he knelt before the boy and cupped his thick hand beneath the boy’s chin.

“Adrys, why did you wander away from us?” Kaerion said,trying to keep the anger out of his voice. Now that he had found the boy safe and unharmed, his relief was giving way to irritation at the boy’s disregard forhis own safety.

Adrys’ face twisted into a worried frown, and Kaerion couldsee tears welling up in his eyes. The boy stared at him, lower lip quavering. “I’m sorry. I thought I heard someone calling my name,” he said simply. “Itsounded like my father.”

A wave of tenderness crept over Kaerion, cooling his growing anger. The lad had been through a great deal and had lost much. It was possible that the cursed power of the tomb had reached out to capitalize on the boy’sgrief and loss. He had no right to be angry with Adrys. He was simply a child and had not meant any mischief.

“It’s all right,” he said gently. “It’s all right, but I wantyou to promise that you won’t go wandering off again. If you hear someonecalling your name, tell me. We’ll get to the bottom of it together. All right?”

The boy nodded once and gave Kaerion a brief smile, wiping at his eyes. “I promise. If anything happens again I’ll come to you.”

Satisfied with the boy’s contrition, Kaerion turned to facethe rest of his companions, who had burst into the room with startled exclamations. Each of them stared in wonder at the bright, familiar paintings. They were about to spread out and search the room when Vaxor’s voice boomed,“Hold! Remember the hidden pits. Before anyone moves, we should sweep the room.”

It was solid advice, and Kaerion was disappointed that he had rushed in without thought. In his incautious haste to find the boy, he could have put them both in deadly jeopardy. It took quite a while for the guards to finish their check, sweeping and prodding the stone with the ten-foot poles, but at last they proclaimed the floor pit free. Unfortunately, their search had also turned up only a single entrance from the room-another mist-covered archway inthe center of the room’s southernmost wall.

“There may be other ways out of this hall,” Gerwyth said tothe group as they assembled near the tunnel’s entrance. “I suggest that we movein pairs, keeping each other in sight, and check the walls for hidden doors.”

The expedition split up, and Kaerion found himself happily partnered with Majandra. Despite their growing closeness and the experience they had shared on the night of the bullywug attack, events since then had prevented them from exploring their newfound bond. Although the peril that they currently found themselves in did not lend itself to lowering their guard and sharing intimacies, Kaerion had to admit that he felt a surge of emotions-all of thempleasant-when the flame-haired bard was nearby.

They had not been searching long when one of the guards posted to the western wall of the room shouted that she had discovered the outlines of a door. Kaerion turned, the words “don’t touch anything” on hislips, when he heard a loud click. Kaerion desperately ran toward the pair of guards, diving the last few feet.

He was too late.

Moments before he reached the guard, her body shuddered. Twin spears, their wicked blades covered in blood, erupted from the hapless soldier’sback. She fell to her knees and then, with a single gurgling breath, toppled to the floor. By the time Kaerion’s momentum carried him to the body, a line ofblood had pooled on the floor.

Vaxor was at the soldier’s side instantly, placing a handupon her throat. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, confirming what Kaerion had already suspected-the woman was beyond the cleric’s help. Noddinghis own understanding, Kaerion rose to his feet as the priest began a softly spoken prayer to protect the soul’s journey as it sped toward the Arch Paladin.Kaerion wondered if there would be anyone who would pray in such a way for his soul-not that someone who had betrayed their god so deeply would have any rightto expect mercy or reward in the afterlife.