The Necropolis of Alkhezzar - Part VIII

The first beastman ducked its horn covered head in order to pass its seven foot frame through the archway.  It then turned the motion into a charge and attempted to gore the nearest Cateris. 

The Cateris leaped back from the attack.

"No!" shouted Fafnir, his arm raised involuntarily in warning.  "Don't..." but the warning came too late.  As soon as the Cateris left the hidden pressure plate, the wall to the left of the catman made a loud click.  A giant blade scythed out from a shadowed recess, sliced the head from the Cateris on the plate and buried itself in the charging beastman.  There was a second click and another blade shot from the opposite wall.  The remaining Cateris ducked the blade and it slammed through the dying beastman and battered the corpse of the first Cateris into the wall.

"Get something back on that plate!"  Pops yelled.

The Cateris in the room with Pops snarled.  "Why, little man?  It seems an excellent screen and not the terror your suggested."

"It cut your friend quick enough." Fafnir replied.

"A regrettable fate, but in his death he has provided us a measure of defense."  The blades sliced through the space again and the surviving Cateris somersaulted into the chamber.  Another beastman attempted a dash through the steel trap and was chopped into three pieces, spraying gore everywhere.

"Don't be so quick to relax," Pops cautioned.  The room filled with the grinding sound of stone grating over stone.  The walls to either side of Fafnir shuddered slightly and began to retract.  The rough grinding sound continued to rumble through the chamber.  Small bits of dust and stone flaked out of the seams of the ceiling and fell to the floor.

"Pops?  Don't most incredibly lethal wall crushing traps...uh..." Fafnir trailed off.

"Crush?" Pops offered.

"Yeah."  Fafnir looked around in confusion.  "I don't get it."

"Maybe they wanted to give us more cover ah ah ow!  What the hell?!"  Pops' explanation was cut short as sharp points of metal began emerging between the stones of the wall he was hugging.  "Hey Fafnir!  I think I have your answer."

"Oh this can't be good."  Fafnir replied.  Another beastman dove through the blade trap and landed awkwardly inside the chamber, only losing one limb in the process.  With its remaining three arms, the beastman pushed himself upright and lunged for the wizard.  There was a sharp report and a small ball of fire shot from Fafnir's hand, through the beastman, and burst on the wall behind it.  The creature fell back to the earth, ichor spewing from its mouth and the wreckage of its chest.

Row after row of foot long spikes protruded quickly from both walls.  The grinding noise halted with a heavy clunk.  Pops smirked and was about to say something when, a moment later, the grinding noise resumed.  However, now the walls were pushing in on the room. 

"Hey!  Heeey!  The spikes are moving with the walls now.  They aren't retracting."  Pops called out with genuine concern.  He clutched the jewel tightly to his chest.

"Yeah.  Not good."  Fafnir repeated.  "Pops?"

"What?"

"Do you have anything?"

"Maybe...if I could get a better look at that plate."  Pops looking back towards the entrance.

"If you could do that, we could just walk out of here."  Fafnir replied with a frown.

"Wizard!  Look out!"  Both Cateris were engaged with a leathery giant of a beastman with tentacles for arms.  The warning came as another beastman with a wolf's face and a chitinous hook for a right arm slipped back the trap and leapt at Fafnir.  The hook slammed into the wizard, knocking him back and dropping him to the ground. 

"Fafnir!"  Pops called out.  With one hand still gripping the jewel, the halfling managed to use his free hand to pull out his sling and, in the same motion, somehow load it.  The sling buzzed around three times before Pops let the shot fly.  It hit the beastman threatening Fafnir and diverted his attention.  With a snarl, the wolf-like thing twisted and leapt for the halfling.  At the last moment, Pops rolled to the side and the beastman, unable to halt his lunge, fell headlong on to the spiked wall.  "Fafnir!"  Pops called again.  "Are you ok?"

"Yeah..."  Fafnir muttered as he clamored back to his feet.  "No more of that, please.  That hurt like hell."  Fafnir focused his attention back toward the entrance, gestured, and another ball of fire zipped from his hands into the darkness beyond the whirling blade trap.  "You know, there was a time when a little fire would chase these things off without any fuss."

"Something must be pushing them."  Pops said.  He had another stone in his sling and was eyeing the beastman impaled on the wall.  "Fafnir...I don't think that trap is the kind that resets until these two walls touch."

"Well then, my friend, you and I are about to have a really bad day."  Fafnir looked at the approaching walls.  "I'll be damned if I can think of a legitimate way out of this trap."

Pops grunted.  "Why is it going so slow?  If I was the one making it, I would have it slam shut as quick as I could."

"Well...dwarves...you know...maybe they wanted you to have time to reflect...on your misdeeds..."

"feh.  It's not moving that slow."  Pops bit his lip as he took a closer look at the walls.  Fafnir fired another fireball out the entrance.  The Cateris finally dispatched the tentacled beastman and turned to look at the pair of adventurers.

"Have you considered the depths of your folly now, halfling?"  The elder Cateris hissed.

"Depths...depths....hey!"  Pops stopped twirling his sling and the stone fell out of it onto the floor.  "Fafnir!  The walls!"

"Yeah...imminent death.  Trust me, the walls are front of mind at the moment."  Another fireball sizzled out the entrance.

"Exactly!  You are thinking about the walls.  We are all thinking about the walls.  Well ... and those blades.  But mostly the walls."  Pops eyes danced with glee.  He pointed at the stone that had fallen from his sling.  "What about the floor? All of this, " he pointed around the room.  "There is something driving it, right.  And Dwarves like contraptions, and they like puzzles.  And this puzzle is not what it seems."

"So the walls won't kill us?"  Fafnir asked in disbelief.

"Oh you bet they will.  Twice over.  And the reason they are moving so slow is to grab and hold our attention.  Forget the walls."

"A little hard to do right now."  Fafnir muttered.

"Forget the walls and focus on the floor."  Pops dropped to his knees and began scraping, pushing, and poking at the floor of the chamber.  "Depths, depths, depths..." he muttered.

"Time is short, my friend."  Fafnir said, his voice tight with concern.  At the same time, there was a solid click from the stone beneath Pops. 

"HA HA!  Take that!"  Pops cried out.  A stone panel dropped six inches and slid out of sight.  The space below the panel was dark.  Pops looked up at his friend, "Your turn to shine, Fafnir.  Get us out of here."  The walls were nearly touching the group. 

Fafnir looked around and said, "Right.  You two, lower yourselves through and hold on to the edge.  Pops, grab on to one of them and don't let go.  Once you are stable, I'll lower myself in and everyone can grab onto me.  If I do this right, we live.  Either way, it is probably going to hurt.  Go go go."  The Cateris slipped through the hold quickly and Pops followed.  There was a moment or two of grunts and a muttered apology.  Then Fafnir kneeled down next to the hole, grabbed the edge with two hands and lowered himself down.  A moment later the spikes slid past the edge of the hole cutting in to everyone's hands.  Fafnir and both Cateris shouted in pain and fear and let go. 

"Grab on!"  Fafnir shouted as the four of them plummeted into the dark.



.

The Necropolis of Alkhezzar - Part VII

"Oh classic!"  Pops said peering up and tilting his head to the side.  "Fafnir, watch the walls go from city sewer contract work to obsessive dwarves incorporated."

Fafnir spared the walls a quick glance before turning his tense gaze back to the corridor.  "It looks old."  he said as they moved down the passageway.

"Oh sure." Pops continued.  "Charter membership in the 'we don't build them like that society for hidden crypts'." 

As they crept carefully forward the clean lines of the hall gave way to a chamber of moderate size.  Fafnir's light threw twisted shadows that danced and stretched across the stone floor.

"Pops," Fafnir said nervously.  "I am not terribly fond of crypts."

A dry voice cut into the conversation, "Then perhaps you should leave while you are able."

"See?"  Fafnir said, pointing vaguely into the chamber.  "This is why.  Either something is living in a crypt, is lurking in a crypt, or trying to either get in or get out.  There are no abandoned crypts."

"Where is the fun in an abandoned crypt?"  Pops asked.

"Are the two of you going to continue this inane chatter?"  asked the voice.

"Yes."  Fafnir and Pops said together.  

"You see," Fafnir continued.  "You obviously don't want us to leave."  He stepped further into the room.  Pops slid in past him and stepped to the side.  The shadows on the floor and walls bounced and twisted.

"I assure you I do,"  insisted the cat-like humanoid as it stepped within range of Fafnir's light. 

"No.  I agree with my friend." Pops pointed at the three other Cateris slipping down the hallway behind him.  "You suggested we leave, but your friends are blocking the way out."

"Which means you want to talk."  Fafnir surmised.

"And we like talking."  Pops concluded with a grin.

The Cateris peered at them with emerald eyes.  When he spoke, he revealed sharp gleaming incisors.  "Perhaps we wish to fight?"

Pops chuckled.  "Considering the pressure plate your see-in-the-dark friends back there just stepped on, I am pretty certain that wouldn't work out for you."

The Cateris's eyes opened in alarm and he growled something to the three in the corridor.  There was a quick back and forth in the cat tongue.  Pops started moving around the room.

"Stay where you are!"  hissed the Cateris.

"Or what?  You'll spit on me?"  Pops snorted and continued his investigation.

The Cateris growled out another phrase in his tongue and the warriors at the entrance began loading crossbows.

"Oh come on!"  Fafnir said with an exasperated sigh.  "What are crossbows going to get you?  Two dead bodies you can't go near because a horde of whirling blades will chop you into meat?"

"What if they miss?"  Pops asked.

"Yeah."  Fafnir looked over his shoulder.  "Have you thought about that for a minute?  You miss, then I do something drastic.  It knocks half of you off the plate.  Whirling death.  Then the roof caves in."

The leader of the Cateris snarled, "You do not understand the forces you are dealing with."

"Of course I do," Pops said at the same time that Fafnir replied, "Obviously, I mean look at him."

"Hey!"  Pops complained.  "Oh ye of little faith, wizard.  Watch this."

Pops twisted at several stoned against one wall, looked at his map a moment, and then, with his tongue caught thoughtfully between his front teeth, made three more deft twists.

"Aha!"  He cried out with glee.

"You fool,"  called the Cateris.  "What have you done?"

There was a grinding of stone followed by a section of the wall splitting open.  Pops reached into the crevice and pilled out a glittering purple gem.  He clitched it with both hands and did a small dance.

"Holy crap."  Fafnir said.  "Look at the size of that thing."

"I found it!  I found it!  The key to Alkhezzar!"  Pops chortled and pranced.

The Cateris swore.  "Chaos!  You are in league with the wretched ones.  You will die for this trespass little man!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa.  We are not 'in league' with anyone."  Pops backpedaled.

"Then why have you sought the key?"  asked the Cateris with another growl.

"Um...flawless purple gem the size of my fist?"  Pops answered with a confused look to Fafnir.  "Key to the gate of unheralded riches?"  He whispered loudly to Fafnir, "Is this guy slow?"

"You believe the Alkhezzar is a trove of treasure?"  The Cateris practically spat in disbelief.  "You are dumber than you look, halfling."

"Now wait a minute..." Fafnir interjected.

"It's a necropolis.  People bury their dead with riches."  Pops explained.

"You...you...what?"  the Cateris looked stunned.

"I mean, I am not planning on digging anybody up."  Pops put his hands up defensively, the gem clutched firmly in his right hand.  "There should be plenty of interesting things lying around."

"The...the Alkhezzar is not a necropolis...it is a Necropolis."  The Cateris explained with emphasis.

Pops blinked.  "It's a necropolis.  That's what I have been saying."

"No, you crazy halfling.  It is one of the Necropoli.  Ancient fortifications of chaos.  Resting place for the armies of the forsaken.  Closed by the archmagii millenia ago.  Prison to the champions of chaos.  That key has been lost for centuries.  If the Alkhezzar were ever opened."  The Cateris shuddered.  "I beg you.  Please.  Relinquish your hold upon it."

"And give it over to you?"  Pops asked.

"Pop..." Fafnir said with concern.  "If what he says is true..."

"Have you ever heard of these forsaken bathhouses?"  Pops rounded on Fafnir.

"No, Pops...but...well...its sounds kinda scary.  Like...dead forever scary."  Fafnir replied.

"Please..." begged the Cateris.

"Why you, Cateris?" Pops asked suspiciously.  "What if I wanted to protect the key?"  He whispered loudly again, "Size of my fist, Fafnir."   There was a pained desperate note in his voice. 

"We are a sacred order charged with the protec..."

"Oh who the hell isn't a member of a sacred order?"  Pops cut in.  "I'm in three."

"You try my patience and insult my honor little one.  Have a care."

"Or what?"  Pops thrust out his chin and dropped one hand to the sling at his belt.  His eyes bored into the Cateris.  A sudden snarl ripped out from the warriors at the entrance.  "Sorry, didn't catch that.  You were saying?" Pops asked without breaking his stare.

"Company!" Fafnir shouted, spinning back towards the entrance.

.

The Necropolis of Alkhezzar - Part VI

"Oh brilliant hero," Pops asked Fafnir as they moved through the dank and dim tunnels below the city.  "If you were a member of a deranged chaos cult tasked with loosing a pack of beastmen on an unsuspecting flophouse in the Painted Quarter, how exactly would you get them there?"  

"Probably sneak them through the ...oh..."  Fafnir let his voice trail off.

"The sewers, yeah.  Excellent work as usual.  Riddle me this, do you ever think ahead?"  Pops grunted as he hopped over a small pile of broken stone.

"Hey, you burned down the whore house."  Fafnir reminded his friend.

"A situation that is not unfamiliar to you.  Yet you have selected a rather inconvenient path of escape."  Another grunt escaped Pops after clearing a sickly looking puddle.

"Next time, start the fire when I am awake.  You didn't give me much time."

"Speaking of...do you hear that?"  Pops turned one ear toward the tunnel from which they came.

Fafnir listened then whispered, "Sounds like Darktongue."

"Can you translate?"

"Yes, but it will take a minute to set up."  Fafnir began rummaging through a small pouch on his belt.  The guttural rasping cut off and was replaced a moment later by howling.

"No longer an issue."  Fafnir said and Pops grimaced with a quick reply, "They must have scented us."

Fafnir looked at the aged and crumbling walls flanking them.  "We need to run Pops, anything I do in this section of tunnels is going to create more problems that it solves."

Pops looked ahead.  "Right.  This way."  The two continued moving down the tunnel.  "You know, it occurs to me that most of our problems could be solved by finding one decent swordsman, maybe a guy with a big axe."

"Like those double-headed things on the bravos at market?"  Fafnir asked.

"Yeah.  Something tasteful...but menacing."  Pops scooped up a piece of rock fallen from the remains of a wall slowly dying of age and the unyielding pressure of the careless city on its shoulders.  A brief tour in his sling gave it the momentum to find a new home in the darkness behind them.

"Oh. Like the Headsman's axe?  That has silver inlays and bloodgrooves."

"Really?"  Pops sounded genuinely curious.  "On an axe?"

"I suppose it helps with a cleaner cut."  Fafnir shrugged.

"Bleh.  Not something I like to dwell on."

"Truly?"   Fafnir gave Pops a disbelieving glance.  "I thought much of your scheming would involved thinking about the Headman's axe."

"Har. Har.  It isn't scheming when it works."

"And how often is that?"  Fafnir spent a hurried moment popping his crossbow into place.  The bolt was barely set before he shot it into the dark.

"You tell me.  Right now we are running through the sewers of the city, pursued by a pack of chaos beastmen for reasons unknown, headed who knows where and we just left a burning whorehouse filled with ladies who no doubt would have rewarded us handsomely for their rescue.  Did I get it all?"  Pops ended with a harrumph.

"You forgot about the part where you robbed the dying adventurers, started the actual fire, and left his friends to a fate of either immolation or indentured servitude via prostitution."  Fafnir said dryly.

"When you put it like that we don't come off as the greatest sort, do we?"  Pops snapped two stone missiles back down the corridor in rapid succession.  Heavy sounds of impact and pain brought a quick fierce smile to his face.

"And another thing...this 'we' business is a horrid exaggeration.  I was sleeping."  Fafnir pulled another tuner from a pouch and eyed it suspiciously.  He tapped it gently on the sewer wall, waited until Pops was clear of the most recent patch of what he hoped was mostly water, and released a bolt of lightning into it.  The tuner survived however there was an ominous cracking of stone beneath the water.

"Riiiight.  And when the watch finds out that the arrogant and temperamental Fafnir, battle wizard extraordinaire, was present when the unquenchable fire was started, what are they going to conclude?"

"Unquenchable?"  Fafnir stopped moving for a moment and looked at Pops in disbelief.  "You...you used bottled fire??"

"It was the only thing available.  None of the fireplaces were lit.  Not even in the common room.  Keep moving."

"Pops!  Is...what....I...so...you mean the first thing that came to mind when presented with the sudden arrival of unknown figures in robes, without any external visual cues, was 'Well, I guess its time to burn everything down.' ?!"

"Its worked in the past.  I say it is working now.  Stick with what works, that's my plan.  So anyway, if they can contain the blaze before it gets really out of hand, most of the district should be ok."

"And if not?"

"Well.  The district will think you did it because someone refused to service your tight ass.  The guard will think you did it because its magic fire and you were there.  And the council will think you did it because they want you gone."  Pops removed a small round bullet from an oiled pouch, licked the bullet, and shot it with two spins at their pursuers.  An excited howl was replaced with a cry of agony a moment later as a small burst of flame lit the tunnel.

"I would like to point out that those potentially explosive gasses in this part of the sewer and my death from them is about the only reason I haven't lit you up like a bonfire right now."  Fafnir growled.

"See?"  Pops exclaimed, "Temperamental fire caster prone to violence...you need to do some work on your image."

Fafnir smeared an inky black substance on to a wall.  Twenty yards later he turned and shot the wall with a jagged tipped bolt.  Sparks skittered down the rock face and ignited the sticky tar in a brilliant azure burst.  Several howls started and then cut out simultaneously.  "I think that was the last one."  Fafnir said.

"Hmm.  I thought there were two more.  Did you get the one with the lizard fin thing?"  Pops asked.

"Yes.  Did you get the blue one?"  Fafnir replied.

"One eye?"

"Yeah."

"No, I thought you did."  

"Well that doesn't add up.  Do you have any idea where we are?"  Fafnir asked looking around.

"Not really."  Pops replied casually.  "The last few turns were a bit hard to read."

"Read."  Fafnir said with a flat voice.

"Yeah.  Map.  Remember?"  Pops sighed and shook his head.  "Seriously, you have the attention span of a puppy sometimes."

"You figured out the map?"

"A while back.  When we hit the older parts it started clicking together in my head.  The map is pointing us down that tunnel."

"Alright map-man.  Lead on."  Fafnir gestured at the tunnel.

"Oh no way.  That is just asking for a blade to come flying out of the wall or spikes or a pit with spikes.  See?  This is another reason we need a third guy."

"Apparently stupid is on the list of qualifications now?"  Fafnir asked.

"I prefer gullible.  But its just us so...light yourself up and go first.  I have your back."  Pops finished with a charming grin.

"Suddenly full of confidence in my abilities are we?"

"Never doubted you for a moment, my friend.  Get in there and sprint the inevitable traps."

"Sometimes I hate you."

"I know.  It's refreshing.  The constant admiration and worship wears me down.  Now go."

.

The Necropolis of Alkhezzar - Part V

*bam* *bam* *bam*

Fafnir came awake with a start, hands thrust out defensively towards the door. A ruddy glow seeped in through the small window bathing everything in a dull reddish hue. The room was stifling and Fafnir could smell smoke.

"...stard. Open the door!" The curse was matched with another *bam* *bam* *bam*.

"Pops?" Fafnir called out. He pushed himself off the bed and stood, rapidly coming to terms with his environment.

"Not for long if you don't let me in. You Locked your door." A scream sounded from somewhere distant and was cut off suddenly.

Fafnir concentrated for a moment. The door clicked. Pops threw himself inside and slammed the door shut again. In the moment the door was open Fafnir had the impression of bright light and heat.

"Lock it Lock it Lock it." Pops cried out in a rush.

Fafnir focused on the door and it made another audible click. A second later something slammed into it hard enough to shake the frame.

"What the hell, Pops?" Fafnir asked. "I thought we were done with the burning inns down phase of our careers."

"Wasn't our fault this time. Whew." The older halfling dusted himself off and tried to catch his breath. With a suspicious look back at the door he continued. "A handful of hood wearing nut bags are running a slightly smaller handful of chaos beastmen wild through the building. And, well, fire is about the only thing slowing them down."

"So ... you did start the fire." Fafnir said accusingly.

"What? Who cares? That's not important right now." The frame of the door shook again as something hit it with a crash. "Is that Lock enough to hold the door?" Pops asked as he backed deeper into the room.

"Only long enough to get this ready." Fafnir said with a grin. He brandished a silver tuning fork.

"Whoa!" Pops shouted and tumbled past the wizard as an even greater force slammed into the door. The frame and bits of the wall gave in with a splintering crash. The fires in the hall beyond the destroyed door backlit a seven foot monster with the face and eyes of a goat, three twisted horns and a bulky chitinous torso. It let out a frenzied snarl and began tearing through the wreckage to get inside.

*Binnnnnnng* Fafnir struck the tuning fork on the nearby bed frame. The whine of the fork was matched quickly by words and gestures.

*crack* A bright bolt of lightning shot from the wizard into the beastman, hurling it back into the hall.

*iiiiinnnnnng Pang* The tuning fork shattered.

"Blood!" Fafnir cursed. He dropped the useless piece of metal and turned to Pops. "Are you ready to leave, yet?" he asked.

"Thought you would never ask." He looked nonchalantly at a wall of the room that had begun to show smoke along its seams. "The management has really let this place go to hell," he said with a chuckle.

"Spare me." Fafnir groaned. He picked up a belt of small pouches and put it on. "Check the hall. We probably only have a few minutes before the entire building is unlivable."

"Voice of experience, eh?" Pops cackled as he moved back to the broken door.

"That was one time and it wasn't my fault."

"Says the guy with the fireball in his pocket."

"I was jumpy, bite me."

"Hallway looks cl .. " *pang* *thunk* A crossbow bolt embedded itself in the wall a foot from Pops head. "New plan. Hallway is not such a fantastic place. What about the window?"

*creeeak* The room shook and the two heard a not too distant crack of a large timber.

"Running low on time, Fafnir." Pops said. Fafnir crossed to the window and pushed it open.

"Remind me again why we take rooms on the second floor?" He asked the halfling.

"Security." Pops flicked a stone into the hallway. "missed." he muttered.

"And the logic behind a window overlooking a closed courtyard. A courtyard currently wreathed in flames I might add, it's quite spectacular."

"Thank you. I mean ... uh ... privacy."

"Hmmm. Ah ha. The kitchen. It's connected to the courtyard. Ok, Pops. Time to jump. I have a plan. Hold on to this feather. Try to avoid the bigger fires as you float past yet another once happy home crumbling to embers and ruin around us."

Pops crossed the room one more time to stand next to the tall man.  "Oh! The usual. Why didn't you say so in the first place. Give me the feather." He held out his hand with a smile.

 

The Necropolis of Alkhezzar - Part IV

"You were right, Fafnir." Pops chuckled. "Oh were you ever right." Pops' eyes danced and sparkled with barely contained giddiness.

"Found something?" Fafnir asked quietly.

"Heard something," came the reply. Pops leaned in conspiratorially. "It's that Thomas guy. The Lady and the surgeon were settling him in. He was sort of in and out of it. Started mumbling ..." Pops paused and let the tension build. All of his weight was shifted forward.

"If he was a child, he would be skipping and dancing," thought Fafnir. Out loud he finally asked, "And?"

"It's the Alkhezzar." The word burst out of Pops in a bubble of glee.

"What?" Fafnir grimaced. "No. No. No. The fantastical lost necropolis that has been leading you around by your ... stomach, from one dive bar to the next and so far has turned up nothing?"

"I wouldn't cast our adventures in that light ..." Pops said.

"I would!" Fafnir's eyes flashed. "And don't call them adventures. Gambling with throat cutters for beer money in a rat infested tavern whores wouldn't enter isn't an adventure. It's idiocy. Just like your obsession with this vanished city of the dead."

"Lost necropolis." Pops insisted with an impatient tone. "There is a difference." Fafnir glared. "And it does exist," Pops added hastily.

"And Thomas, delirious with blood loss, disoriented, barely living let alone conscious...he just happened to confirm your every suspicion?"

"Well ..." Pops shuffled his feet. "He mentioned a map. Something about keeping it safe."

Fafnir sighed and gave Pops a rueful glance. "Let me guess the remainder, my honorable friend. Upon hearing of a map of unknown quality, content, and veracity you had to see it for yourself. You slipped away from whatever door you were listening at and ..."

"Hey..." Pops interjected.

"From whatever door," Fafnir continued over him. "Slipped away, rooted through his things. Found it. Took it. And are now trying to convince me that you have, finally, after months of not doing any real research, found a clue to your mysterious city."

"Well. Not exactly." Pops started rummaging through the nearby desk. The room was large. It was an overnight room for one guest and had a small writing desk near one corner. Pops, Fafnir knew, could not let a closed drawer remain unclosed.

"He probably doesn't even know he is doing it," thought Fafnir.

"What then exactly?" he asked the halfling.

"It is a map to the key." Pops proclaimed proudly.

"The key?" Fafnir sighed. The faintest beginnings of a headache were forming. He needed sleep. Soon.

"Yes. The key points the way to the necropolis, and presumably opens it. This is a map to that." Clutched in his fist was a roll of tired looking parchment.

"So ... it's a map to ... another map?"

"Ya," Pops beamed.

"Bones and Blood, Pops!" Fafnir swore. "Put it back. They've already lost one of their party, they might lose a second and if Tess thinks you're out to rob them ..."

"Hey, you were the one that said they would be interesting to follow," Pops said defensively. He slipped the parchment into a belt pouch.

"Your map to another map isn't the reason," Fafnir explained and then had a sudden thought. "You aren't just making all this up as an excuse to cover the fact you robbed him blind are you?"

"No! I mean, I'd never ... I mean, No! This is all I took. Once I saw the symbols in the thing, I figured you were a sure thing." The conspiratorial tone and smile crept back over him. "You like symbols," Pops finished with a grin and an earnest twinkle in his eye.

"Come on Fafnir," he cajoled. "How long has it been since you've had a paying job? The council doesn't trust you. The Watch ... watches you."

"The council doesn't trust battle wizards. They are concerned because I am not moving on to some nebulous 'front line'." Fafnir frowned at Pops and said, "The Watch watches me because they don't trust you. At all."

"Hey!"

"You are gaining a reputation. And making a name for yourself."

"Oh really?" Pops switched instantly from wounded to curious.

"The smiling swindler."

"What?" Pops cried. "That is a terrible name!"

"What do you expect? Merchants, on the Turn of all places, are complaining ..."

"No," Pops interrupted. "I mean, that name lacks flair. It lacks class."

"So, it's dead on then," Fafnir said with a chuckle.

"Hey!"

"I am just saying ... the powers that be in this city want me to move on and the merchants guild is pushing the Watch to find a way to contain you."

"It's not like I run the black market," Pops said.

"For lack of trying?"

Pops waved a hand in Fafnir's direction while the other tried another drawer at the desk. "Guilds are too much work. I am doing fine bartering."

"Stealing."

"Bartering ... with merchants ... here and there. Besides, with you around it isn't like they are going to hire someone to do something about it."

"I am not so sure about that ... tonight was odd." Fafnir softened his tone and looked thoughtful.

"How so?" Pops asked.

"That crew was operating far too close to a border everyone knows about. And the Cateris ... lurking around just watching ..." Fafnir frowned.

"I don't see what a pack of curious cat-folk has to do with our merchant problem."

"Your merchant problem," Fafnir corrected him. "Think of it this way: if someone hired that bunch to move in at a place where no one should be dumb enough to be found operating, how long is it until someone gets hired to do something lethal that is also in the best interests of everyone except you and I?"

"They could have been out of town employers. Or Thieves Guild themselves," Pops reasoned.

"Wasn't Guild. They were rabble and the Guild would have let the group move all the way in to their web, not jump them fifty feet from the door."

"Out of town, then?" Pops asked.

"Maybe." Fafnir grunted still thinking.

"Either way," Pops said with a smile. "It means they had something and I say it is this map." Pops patted the small satchel at his hip.

Fafnir sighed. "How soon are they going to notice it missing?" he asked.

"Not sure," Pops replied. "I pulled a swap with a spare bit of parchment I had lying around."

"Ok. Let's assume morning then. I need to rest."

Pops looked around the room taking in the heavy drapes and tapestries. "Is this enough to muffle your screaming?" he asked gently.

Fafnir sighed again. "It should be. I didn't use much power tonight."

"Are the nightmares ever going to stop?" Pops asked with true concern in his voice.

"No, Pops. That's the way it goes sometimes when you tackle demons. You know it as well as I do." Fafnir looked away. "Go, Pops. Try not to start a riot with the remainder of the night. I need to sleep."

"Good night, then." Pops let himself out and headed down the hall to his own room.

 

The Necropolis of Alkhezzar - Part III

Pops sling started buzzing as he jogged forward to close the gap. The scene revealed itself to him as he approached.

Two people in traveler's cloaks stood with blades bare beside the two fallen forms of their comrades. Five menacing night haunts closed in. The haunts were typical of their type: mismatched clothing, a piece of toughened leather here and there plus whatever weapon available or improvised. One of their number was on the ground already, a dagger shoved indecently through his throat. The two travelers, female, shifted back to back as the five remaining assailants spread out around them.

"No one else has to get hurt, lovelies. We's just looking for fun. Put those stickers down now," one of the bravos said in a raspy voice.

"Does that line ever work?" Pops asked loudly into the night over the buzz of his sling.

"Wha ... " *crack* The surprised question was cut off instantly by the slung stone and the brigand dropped like a puppet with cut strings. One of the would-be thieves recovered quickly enough to snap the yell, "Get them!" and brandish a cleaver. Two charged the travelers, swinging and screaming for blood. The Cleaver and his knife wielding sidekick spun toward Pops. Pops wasted no time in dropping another stone into his sling. The Knife charged at him, closing the distance in a few strides.

*thrummm*

The hairs on the back of Pops' neck stood on end as he felt a crossbow bolt zip past him too close for comfort.

*crack* The knife wielder dropped to the ground, a heavy bruise already forming at his temple where the slug tipped bolt him him. The Cleaver hesitated upon seeing his companion dropped from an unseen attack. Pops shot his stone at one of the attackers harassing the travelers. It banged into an elbow eliciting a startled cry and caused the man to drop his guard.

The nearest traveler used the diversion to run a long knife into her attacker. The thief coughed up blood and crumpled. The other attacker turned and ran off into the night.

"I know you, you little shit! You are going to pay for this," cried the Cleaver, unaware he stood along against four.

"I'd run now before you say something stupid..er," came the reply. "My friend in the shadows isn't the forgiving type." Pops scuttled away from the menacing man.

Cleaver snapped a quick look at the scene behind him and did the math. He started for the nearest alley.

"You'll get yours, little man. Just you..."

*Thrumm* *crack*

The cleaver made a dull clunk as it hit the ground a moment ahead of the brigand.

"Ah hahah. Not likely!" Pops danced over the fallen foe. Deft hands made a quick search for spare coins. Fafnir stepped out of the murk of the evening and retrieved his bolts. One of the women was crouched over one of her fallen comrades. Fafnir though he could hear small desperate sobs. The other held her sword out protectively watching Fafnir and Pops as they moved closer.

"Stay back," she warned.

"Thomas. Oh Thomas. No," called the other. "No. No. No."

"Let us help you," Fafnir said soothingly. "Your friends need medical attention."

"Were you with them?" The woman asked.

"No. We were on the street, too. We saw them jump you. Please. I know a night house nearby. If we hurry we can save them."

The woman nodded. "I am called Tess, this is Yemna. Thomas and Sven. I ... I think Sven is ..."

"Help me with him, Tess. Pops! Keep an eye out. Chibiguazu!" Fafnir whistled. "Go." The word was voiced with something more, a note of power.

Pops pushed Yemna into motion. Tess lifted Sven and pushed him to Fafnir. The man was thin and pale and cold. Fafnir didn't have much hope for him. Tess picked Thomas up on her own and turned to Fafnir.

"Which way?" she asked.

"Pops, get us out of here."

"With pleasure. This way if you please. I know the place he means." The halfling started back down the road, his feet made no sound as he wound his way from shadow to shadow.

The Necropolis of Alkhezzar - Part II

The perpetual evening mist was performing its nightly slow dance meandering across alleyways, clutching and clinging, fumbling slowly from stoop to stoop, eve to eve. The hard pack dirt was cut here and there with a section of choppy stone, remnants of a public works project long past. The only fixture held in the sky was the sullen moon, sickly yellow red with the torch haze rising from road and roof. It was not a well lit city.

Street lanterns were just close enough to give a sense of security in this section, but too far apart to truly banish the night. There were few that strode boldly from lamp to lamp; the ignorant or the untouchable. The old quick thieves call the gamble on which you'll get: the fool's take.

Fafnir and Pops were not strangers to the shadows. They stayed the hell away from anything that smelled like a trap.

"We should stay the hell away from this. It could be a trap," whispered Pops as the two moved swiftly but silently down a twisted road known as Crooked Knee Alley.

"You think everything is a trap," Fafnir replied. He peered into the murk. "It's a dark one tonight."

Pops gave a harumph and muttered, "Notice that I am still around? Common sense."

"I am going to cheat," Fafnir said decisively.

"About time," Pops whispered. "I hate leading through this." He gestured vaguely at the crawling mist. There was a soft thump as the lynx dropped smoothly to the ground. Fafnir passed a hand over his eyes and when they were uncovered Pops saw his companion's blue gaze replaced with shimmering green cat's eyes.

"That creeps me out every time." Pops shuddered.

"We should be able to follow at a comfortable distance now. Follow me." Guided by Fafnir, the pair moved easily through the gloom. After nearly twenty minutes Pops spoke up.

"Fafnir. I don't think these guys are from around here," he whispered with concern slipping into his voice.

"What makes you say that?" Fafnir asked.

"Because they are about to cross into the Bone Yard after moonrise. We should do something."

"Someone might be getting around to that without our help. Trouble ahead by the looks of it." Fafnir whispered. He peered into the low slung night mist towards shadows closing in on their marks.

"Trouble above," Pops whispered in return. He pointed at a pair of figures slipping quietly from roof to roof following the same group.

"Bad news, decrepit one. Those are Cateris."

Pops flinched at the mention of the cat-like men with the prickliest honor. "The ones ahead, too?" he asked in an uneasy tone. He fidgeted.

"Tell me you haven't been scamming the Cateris. And no, the group about to cause a stir are just the normal type of fun for around here."

"Sca ... scamming?" Pops sounded mildly offended. "What I do is business and ... uh ... risk management."

"Well, for the moment the cats are just watching. I am more concerned for what is about to go down."

The marks crossed an alley mouth as Fafnir finished speaking. The night came alive with the sound of rushing bodies and drawn steel.

"In or out, wizard?" Pops asked.

"In. Stagger it. We don't want to be seen as reinforcing the wrong cause."

"Timely then," Pops whispered and a sling appeared in his hands. A sudden wet thunk and terrible cry of pain split the night air.

"Not too timely," Fafnir replied. He was uncollapsing a small crossbow and shaking his cloak out of the way at the same time. "Get to it."
 
 
 

The Necropolis of Alkhezzar - Part I

Smoke from the cheap wood crumbling to nothing in the fireplace across the tavern common room mixed with the oily ringlets of gray puffed out by the wide-eyed traveler. He leaned in, hooked on every nuance and intonation from the lanky man seated opposite him. Small stones and bits of animal bones were strewn in an indecipherable pattern on the table between them. A few dice and a bit of string rounded out the casting. The seer was dressed in a loose fitting cotton shirt with a short hooded cloak pulled over his head as if it were a ward against stray eldritch energy. From an unseen pocket he pulled a slim deck of cards and flipped one onto the table.

"There is a shadow creeping across the face of the world," whispered the man to the traveler, indicating the card. The traveler blinked and leaned back from the table.

"That's a sun," he pointed to the card.

"You have to have light to cast a shadow, " insisted the reader as twitch of a frown crossed his features.

"The people on the card look happy," the traveler said.

"It's ... uh ... upside down ... inverted." The man made an esoteric gesture and pushed the word out in a husky whisper.

"No. It's not. It's a sun and the people are smiling." The traveler pushed himself back from the table.

"You have to look at it from this side ... it's inverted. They are all frowning." The would-be seer paused for additional effect. "There is a doom coming."

"Ratman piss," A new voice interrupted the reading. "Just tell him he is destined for happiness and get his money already, Fafnir. Before he figures out you are a charlatan." The voice had the honeyed tenor of someone who could talk the rain out of falling. The halfling owner, a short and round opposite to Fafnir, hopped up on a nearby bench and looked at the chaos of junk spread across it.

"Oh wow," he laughed, "Are they still falling for your bag of stones and bone bits? Don't any of your marks know anything about fortune reading?" The question was followed by another chuckle.

"Pops, dammit." Fafnir turned to the halfling with a pleading tone. "I am with a client."

"No, you aren't," Pops said with a cackle and pointed. The traveler had risen and moved away, muttering to himself.

"Wait! Sir?" cried Fafnir, "The shadow..."

"It was a sun, you hack," The traveler said over his shoulder as he stomped off.

"Pops, you bastard. That was my meal coin." Fafnir reseated himself dejectedly and began gathering his stones and bits into a small bag.

Pops laughed again. A smile was wide on his face and it made his eyes sparkle with mischief.

"Here," he said, and flicked a coin at Fafnir. Fafnir snapped it out of the air in an eye-blink then stopped and looked at the small golden disc in his palm.

"A gold half-crown? What are you playing at?" he asked the halfling.

"Pips, mostly. I just can't seem to lose tonight."

Fafnir gave Pops an icy stare. Pops fidgeted.

"Everything was on the up and up," Pops defended himself. "Mostly. I mean ... I didn't take much."

"If you are doing so well, then why are you over here chasing away paying customers?" Fafnir asked with surly frown.

"Well, one," Pops ticked off reasons on his small but dangerously deft fingers, "You are better than this garbage stuff. You should be selling the real thing. And two, I ... uh ... might have been a bit ... too ... good. Honestly, they were happy to see me step away." The last bit was said in a muttered rush.

"I don't believe you." Pops feigned shock at the statement. "So," Fafnir said with resignation. "How long do we have until two huge guys come over here looking to get their coin back?"

"Oh ... minutes at least," Pops replied.

Fafnir scanned the room. The hood of his cloak fell to his shoulders. "And by minutes," he said with a sigh, "You, of course, meant from the moment you came over here?"

"How many?" Pops asked with an air of curious indifference.

"Three. Dammit. I was hoping for a quiet night."

Fafnir looked quickly at the room over Pops' shoulder and gauged their options.

"Hey, night's young," Pops said sneaking his own glance. The twinkle rekindled in his eyes.

"Fair enough. You have a plan?" Fafnir asked.

"I was thinking a Horse's Mouth might be in order."

"Ok." Fafnir said in agreement.  "Ghost up. Now."

Fafnir cleared his throat and returned to picking up his things from the table. Pops hopped off the bench and was instantly lost in the mill and press of a few busy nearly tables. The moment Pops vanished, the approaching trio stopped and looked around. The brief pause was all Fafnir required.

The three goons were near a bench home to a few equally thuggish drinkers when Fafnir threw his voice and said, "You three come as a pretty set or do we hav' ta pay fer extra pillows?" Followed immediately by, "Pull up a bench, pull up your shirt, and let's get to known' each other." The results were predictable. In moments the center of the common room was a cloud of dust, splinters, broken crockery, and swinging fists. Pops reappeared at Fafnir's side as he slowly circumnavigated the brawl.

"Very nice, Fafnir!" he chuckled. "Smooth as silk."

"It's just one more tavern we have to avoid for a while," Fafnir muttered in reply. "Think it will pull the watch?"

"Not sure," Pops said at the same moment as a meaty thunk and distinctive groan sounded from the center of the fight. "Check that. Yeah. This is going to get messy. You really hit a sore spot this time."

There was a soft scampering noise and a small bundle of fur hopped from a nearby ledge on to Fafnir's shoulder.

"What's the story, my friend?" Fafnir said quietly to the lynx balanced comfortably next to his head. The lynx purred and something passed between the two of them. "All is not lost, Pops. I think we have some interesting prospects tonight after all."

"Oh? Of what sort?" the halfling asked.

"Not sure just yet. Something old and ... tingly is the best way to describe it."

"I don't think it is. What's tingly?"

"Lynx for vaguely mystic in origin I think. See that group slipping out the front? Chibi says they have a lead on something interesting. And..."

"Tingly...got it." Pops sighed. "You know ... you don't have to make up stories to get me out of this perfectly crazy room." A piece of a chair spun past Pops as he spoke. "I have zero issue with leaving." He laughed and smiled.

"For truth, my friend. Our rapidly vanishing 'friends' have a very old piece of parchment," Fafnir explained and picked up his pace toward the door.

"Like a map?"

"Would you like it to be a map?"

"Maps are interesting. I've sold my fair share of maps and I can tell you..."

"It might not be a map." Fafnir interrupted. The pair twisted past a handful of onlookers screaming drunken encouragement at the fray.

"Well, why are we following them, then? There are four of them and two of us and they look armed to the teeth." Another chair smashed into the wall next to Pops.

"Treasure, mystery, adventure Pops." Fafnir explained with a bit of drama. "That's line item one in the manifesto. Come on."

"Your manifesto," Pops countered. "Mine starts with beer. Then ale. Then cheese, sausage, and beer in that order."

"Four people are on the ground over there and I am reasonably sure that the people you robbed aren't among them. Come on, Pops." Fafnir said with a sly smile.

"Hey, hey, hey." Pops protested as Fafnir practically pulled him out the door and into the night. "Rob is pejorative. It was a friendly game of cards."

"I thought you said pips."

"It's not my fault they didn't know the rules."

The whistles of the watch sounded in the distance as the noise of the fight intensified. Fafnir and Pops slipped into the night and faded away.

 

The Necropolis of Alkhezzar

Snippets VII - The Necropolis of Alkhezzar

Snippets are small pieces I am considering expanding into larger works.


"You were right, Fafnir." Pops chuckled. "Oh were you ever right." Pops' eyes danced and sparkled with barely contained giddiness.

"Found something?" Fafnir asked quietly.

"Heard something," came the reply. Pops leaned in conspiratorially. "It's that Thomas guy. The Lady and the surgeon were settling him in. he was sort of in and out of it. Started mumbling..." Pops paused and let the tension build. All of his weight was shifted forward.

"If he was a child, he would be skipping and dancing," thought Fafnir. Out loud he finally asked, "And?"

"It's the Alkhezzar." The word burst out of Pops in a bubble of glee.

"What?" Fafnir grimaced. "No. No. No. The fantastical lost necropolis that has been leading you around by your...stomach, from one dive bar to the next and so far has turned up nothing?"

"I wouldn't cast our adventures in that light..." Pops said.

"I would!" Fafnir's eyes flashed. "And don't call them adventures. Gambling with throat cutters for beer money in a rat infested tavern whores wouldn't enter isn't an adventure. It's idiocy. Just like your obsession with this vanished city of the dead."

"Lost necropolis." Pops insisted with an impatient tone. "There is a difference." Fafnir glared. "And it does exist," Pops added hastily.

"And Thomas, delirious with blood loss, disoriented, barely living let alone conscious...he just happened to confirm your every suspicion?"

"Well..." Pops shuffled his feet. "He mentioned a map. Something about keeping it safe."

Fafnir sighed and gave Pops a rueful glance. "Let me guess the remainder, my honorable friend. Upon hearing of a map of unknown quality, content, and veracity you had to see it for yourself. You slipped away from whatever door you were listening at and..."

"Hey..." Pops interjected.

"From whatever door," Fafnir continued over him. "Slipped away, rooted through his things. Found it. Took it. And are now trying to convince me that you have, finally, after months of not doing any real research, found a clue to your mysterious city."

"Well. Not exactly." Pops started rummaging through the nearby desk. The room was large. It was an overnight room for one guest and had a small writing desk near one corner. Pops, Fafnir knew, could not let a closed drawer remain unclosed.

"He probably doesn't even know he is doing it," thought Fafnir.

"What then exactly?" he asked the halfling.

"It is a map to the key." Pops proclaimed proudly.

"The key?" Fafnir sighed. The faintest beginnings of a headache were forming. He needed sleep. Soon.

"Yes. The key points the way to the necropolis, and presumably opens it. This is a map to that." Clutched in his fist was a roll of tired looking parchment.

"So...it's a map to...another map?"

"Ya," Pops beamed.

"Bones and Blood, Pops!" Fafnir swore. "Put it back. They've already lost one of their party, they might lose a second and if Tess thinks you're out to rob them..."

"Hey, you were the one that said they would be interesting to follow," Pops said defensively. He slipped the parchment into a belt pouch.

"Your map to another map isn't the reason," Fafnir explained and then had a sudden thought. "You aren't just making all this up as an excuse to cover the fact you robbed him blind are you?"

"No! I mean, I'd never...I mean, No! This is all I took. Once I saw the symbols in the thing, I figured you were a sure thing." The conspiratorial tone and smile crept back over him. "You like symbols," Pops finished with a grin and an earnest twinkle in his eye.

"Come on Fafnir," he cajoled. "How long has it been since you've had a paying job? The council doesn't trust you. The Watch...watches you."

"The council doesn't trust battle wizards. They are concerned because I am not moving on to some nebulous 'front line'." Fafnir frowned at Pops and said, "The Watch watches me because they don't trust you. At all."

"Hey!"

"You are gaining a reputation. And making a name for yourself."

"Oh really?" Pops switched instantly from wounded to curious.

"The smiling swindler."

"What?" Pops cried. "That is a terrible name!"

"What do you expect? Merchants, on the Turn of all places, are complaining..."

"No," Pops interrupted. "I mean, that name lacks flair. It lacks class."

"So, it's dead on then," Fafnir said with a chuckle.

"Hey!"

"I am just saying...the powers that be in this city want me to move on and the merchants guild is pushing the Watch to find a way to contain you."

"It's not like I run the black market," Pops said.

"For lack of trying?"

Pops waved a hand in Fafnir's direction while the other tried another drawer at the desk. "Guilds are too much work. I am doing fine bartering."

"Stealing."

"Bartering...with merchants...here and there. Besides, with you around it isn't like they are going to hire someone to do something about it."

"I am not so sure about that...tonight was odd." Fafnir softened his tone and looked thoughtful.

"How so?" Pops asked.

"That crew was operating far too close to a border everyone knows about. And the Cateris...lurking around just watching..." Fafnir frowned.

"I don't see what a pack of curious cat-folk has to do with our merchant problem."

"Your merchant problem," Fafnir corrected him. "Think of it this way: if someone hired that bunch to move in at a place where no one should be dumb enough to be found operating, how long is it until someone gets hired to do something lethal that is also in the best interests of everyone except you and I?"

"They could have been out of town employers. Or Thieves Guild themselves," Pops reasoned.

"Wasn't Guild. They were rabble and the Guild would have let the group move all the way in to their web, not jump them fifty feet from the door."

"Out of town, then?" Pops asked.

"Maybe." Fafnir grunted still thinking.

"Either way," Pops said with a smile. "It means they had something and I say it is this map." Pops patted the small satchel at his hip.

Fafnir sighed. "How soon are they going to notice it missing?" he asked.

"Not sure," Pops replied. "I pulled a swap with a spare bit of parchment I had lying around."

"Ok. Let's assume morning then. I need to rest."

Pops looked around the room taking in the heavy drapes and tapestries. "Is this enough to muffle your screaming?" he asked gently.

Fafnir sighed again. "It should be. I didn't use much power tonight."

"Are the nightmares ever going to stop?" Pops asked with true concern in his voice.

"No, Pops. That's the way it goes sometimes when you tackle demons. You know it as well as I do." Fafnir looked away. "Go, Pops. Try not to start a riot with the remainder of the night. I need to sleep."

"Good night, then." Pops let himself out and headed down the hall to his own room.