T Lain - Plague of Ice

Stung by the accusation, Hennet cried out, “That’s good, coming from the lunatic who rushes into a half a dozen gnolls, hacking every which way without any regard for what his mates might be up to with spells or bows. Acts like an idiot, prevents from anyone helping him, and gets himself knocked out for his trouble. Who wants to literally burn bridges that are our only route of escape. The addle-pated warrior with more weapons than brains, who loses his own lady then lusts after another man’s so openly that I feel frankly embarrassed for him.”

A roar grew in Regdar’s deepest seat of anger, spreading throughout his body, turning his face to a bright scarlet. Veins bulged in his neck and forehead and a string of babble flowed from his mouth, completely beyond his control.

“If I had Sonja then I’d take some effort to be more attentive to her! Neglected in this dungeon the last place she’d want to be in the world as you make jokes! You don’t deserve Sonja you scrawny little glory-thirsty mageling! If it wasn’t for Sonja standing here I’d crush you where you stand.”

“Is that all that’s stopping you?” Hennet challenged him.

Regdar slammed his right fist across the smaller man’s cheek. The unprepared sorcerer flew backward and slammed into the wall, where he knocked over a suit of armor before slumping to the ground. As the armor fell, it triggered a trap in another corner of the room, loosing a barbed arrow that zipped across the room and struck the wall just above Hennet’s head then bounced away.

The emotional satisfaction Regdar felt from the punch faded away fast, to be replaced by a deep sense of shame. The world above was freezing, the Plane of Ice threatened to consume everything, and he couldn’t think of anything but his own pain. What would Sonja think of him now? Could Hennet forgive him? And what of Lidda, his longest and most faithful companion in travel and adventure? All these faces looked at him with mixtures of shock, anger, and disappointment. All was silent as each waited for the others to speak first.

The stillness was shattered by a huge hang from the next room. The sound echoed repeatedly across the cubic room. Regdar pushed the heavy, black door wider open to peer into the adjoining room, only to have it yanked away from his hand. He found himself looking into the fat, armored torso of a giant. It was hunched over because it was too tall to stand upright in the room. Even stooped, its bald head scraped the black ceiling of the oven. In one arm it clutched a huge, thick club, and in the other it had a triangular shield. The far door was open but intact despite having been forced by this behemoth.

Regdar, Hennet, and Lidda all screamed “frost giant!” Only Sonja knew better. The creature was a verbeeg—smaller than a frost giant but closely related to them, just as evil and almost as dangerous.

The verbeeg swung its club at Regdar. The fighter hopped deftly back and used his foot to pull Hennet’s short spear back into the treasure chamber at the same time that grasped the edge of the door with both hands and pulled with all his might. The door slipped from the giant’s grasp and noiselessly closed the portal a moment after Regdar whipped his hands back into the treasure room. No sooner had the door closed than they heard an ear-splitting boom from the massive club striking the door. It shook the entire room, setting the treasures vibrating and jangling.

“Will the oven room heat up again?” Hennet wondered, pulling himself up and rubbing the welt on his cheek. “That would be an overdue twist of fate in our favor.”

“It won’t unless the other door closes,” said Lidda.

“I don’t think it’s going to be in there long enough for that to matter,” said Regdar as the door shuddered under another crash. A few suits of armor vibrated free of their mounts and clattered to the stone floor. The next impact sounded as if the verbeeg had abandoned its club and was instead slamming itself full-force against the door. The panel wouldn’t hold much longer. Regdar tried to reinforce it with his body, and Lidda and Hennet came up to do the same.

“That’s a verbeeg,” said Sonja from behind. “They’re fairly intelligent. Maybe we can reason with it.”

The club struck against the door again, knocking Lidda backward with the door’s recoil.

“This one doesn’t sound especially reasonable,” the halfling said, springing back to her feet.

“Get away from the door,” Sonja advised, and the others took her advice. They backed away to the corners of the room, weapons drawn and ready to fight. Regdar made sure the Frozen Pendant was secure within his coat and readied his greatsword as the verbeeg struck the door again, and again. The final blow smashed the door inward to hang limply on its bent and torn hinges. The giant bent low and squeezed its head and shoulders through the doorway, preceded by the menacing club.

“Where is the Pendant!” it bellowed, sweeping the club to and fro, smashing crates and upsetting pedestals. Its Common was oddly accented and deafeningly loud.

Hennet fired a burst of magic at its massive chest. The spell briefly draped the room in sepulchral green. His magic missile slipped around the verbeeg’s shield to strike squarely on its chainmail-covered breast. The monster reared back in pain but only slammed against the doorframe. Enraged, it surged forward, tearing out most of the doorjamb and plunging headlong into the treasure chamber.

Regdar and Lidda dived to the floor as the massive club swept just above their heads. Boxes, vases, picture frames, and rolled tapestries crashed and tumbled across the room. The tumult triggered several traps—arrows and darts launched from hidden points along the walls brought a sharp cry from the verbeeg, which stared dumbly at three metal shafts now buried in its arms and shoulder.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Regdar dashed forward and drove his sword against the wide shield that the verbeeg held before its pendulous belly. The giant responded instinctively by thrusting the shield forward, and almost slammed it against Regdar, but the fighter pulled back in time. Even before it had turned to face the warrior, the verbeeg’s club was sweeping around in a powerful swing. Regdar readied himself to parry the blow, but it did no good. The blow was driven by such force that the human and his greatsword were both batted aside. Regdar bounced against the wall, and his sword stayed embedded in the verbeeg’s weapon.

The monster would have finished Regdar there and then if not for the crossbow bolt fired by Lidda that sliced into a nerve in its lower leg. The well-placed shot was far more painful than injurious. When it whirled back to find the attacker, Hennet rushed out and pulled Regdar to relative safety behind a mahogany cabinet. From there, Regdar caught a flash of Sonja’s blonde hair in one of the room’s corners, but Lidda was nowhere to be seen.

“Which of you worms,” shouted the verbeeg, “is going to give me this damned pendant?”

“Why do you want it?” came Sonja’s voice. Whether because of the strange acoustic properties of the room or druidic magic, the verbeeg could not pin down the source of the sound.

“It will earn me a place in the cold ones’ new order—and the chance to crack a few human skulls.”

The verbeeg pried Regdar’s greatsword from its club and threw it through the open door into the oven room behind it, where it skidded across the floor with a metallic clash.

“If we could get on the other side of it,” Hennet whispered to Regdar, “I could catch it in a web and trap it.”

“Why not do it from here?” asked Regdar.

Hennet shook his head. “We’d be trapped along with it.”

The verbeeg scanned the damage it had caused, looking for whoever might be hiding in the ruins of the treasure room. Cautious and clever, it had no intention of plunging headlong into a room full of hidden enemies.