Fresh From Postbox: The Lazy Litch Bundle
I've just picked up Woodfall, The Toxic Wood, The Haunted Hamlet & Other Hexes, and Willow from the post. Perfect timing for Halloween.
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Dragon Magazine reading list
For the last month and a half I've been scouring the web for peoples' favourite and most useful Dragon Magazine articles.
Once I've noted all the recommendations, I went through each magazine and skimmed it. This step was to mark the articles I'm curious about and would like to read closer, potentially implementing them in my game or simply reading them to become a better player and judge.
So, without any further ado, the 143 articles that made my reading list are:
- Dragon Magazine 13 – Demon generation
- Dragon Magazine 13 – How heavy is my giant
- Dragon Magazine 13 – Notes From a Semi-Successful D&D Player
- Dragon Magazine 20 – It's a good day to die
- Dragon Magazine 23 – Random generation of creatures from the lower planes
- Dragon Magazine 28 – The Politics of Hell
- Dragon Magazine 39 – Good Hits & Bad Misses
- Dragon Magazine 49 – Historical Names make for Better Games
- Dragon Magazine 52 – Basic DnD points of view from the editors old and new
- Dragon Magazine 52 – Knock, knock – The history of siege warfare
- Dragon Magazine 53 – How to give disease a fighting chance
- Dragon Magazine 53 – Some Universal Rules Making Your Own Campaign And Making It Work
- Dragon Magazine 53 – Understanding Armory
- Dragon Magazine 54 – Ruins Rotted & Risky, But Rewarding
- Dragon Magazine 58 – Swords Slicing into a Sharp Topic
- Dragon Magazine 59 – Gypsies A curse or a blessing or both
- Dragon Magazine 59 – Make monsters, not monstrosities
- Dragon Magazine 59 – Poison The toxins of cerilon
- Dragon Magazine 63 – For the sake of change
- Dragon Magazine 63 – Plan before you play
- Dragon Magazine 63 – The humanoids – Goals and gods of the kobolds, golbins, hobgoblins, and gnolls
- Dragon Magazine 68 – Weather in the World of Greyhawk – A climate for realistic AD&D adventuring adaptable for use in your world
- Dragon Magazine 68 – You've always got a chance
- Dragon Magazine 69 – Runes
- Dragon Magazine 72 – Gems galore
- Dragon Magazine 72 – The real barbarians
- Dragon Magazine 73 – Non-violent Magic Items
- Dragon Magazine 73 – The solo scenario
- Dragon Magazine 74 – A player character and his money
- Dragon Magazine 75 – All games need names
- Dragon Magazine 75 – Beyond the rule book
- Dragon Magazine 75 – The Nine Hells Part I
- Dragon Magazine 76 – For NPCs Only – The Death Master
- Dragon Magazine 76 – The Nine Hells Part II
- Dragon Magazine 77 – Curses – Twenty good ideas for bad tidings
- Dragon Magazine 77 – Tarot of many things
- Dragon Magazine 78 – Mind Games
- Dragon Magazine 78 – Spells can be psionic, too
- Dragon Magazine 78 – The ecology of the mind flayer
- Dragon Magazine 79 – Be aware and take care
- Dragon Magazine 79 – Blame it on the gremlins
- Dragon Magazine 79 – Magic resistance – What it is, how it works
- Dragon Magazine 79 – The fights of fantasy
- Dragon Magazine 80 – Five keys to DMing success
- Dragon Magazine 80 – New charts, using the 5% principle
- Dragon Magazine 80 – Who lives in that castle
- Dragon Magazine 81 – Taking the sting out of poison
- Dragon Magazine 82 – Rings that do weird things
- Dragon Magazine 82 – Spells between the covers
- Dragon Magazine 82 – Wounds and weeds
- Dragon Magazine 87+88 – Beyond the Dungeon
- Dragon Magazine 91 – Realistic vital statistics – A new system for figuring heights & weights
- Dragon Magazine 91 – The Nine Hells Revisited
- Dragon Magazine 93 – Short hops and big drops
- Dragon Magazine 93 – The making of a milieu
- Dragon Magazine 94 – An army travels on its stomach
- Dragon Magazine 94 – Same dice, different odds
- Dragon Magazine 95 – Credit where credit is due
- Dragon Magazine 96 – What good PCs are made of – Play characters with more substance than statistics
- Dragon Magazine 98 – Dragon Damage revised
- Dragon Magazine 98 – Tailor-made treasure
- Dragon Magazine 99 – A sharp system for swords
- Dragon Magazine 99 – History of a game that failed
- Dragon Magazine 99 – Tables and tables of troops
- Dragon Magazine 99 – That's life in the big city
- Dragon Magazine 101 – Charging isn't cheap How to make and fix rods, staves, and wands
- Dragon Magazine 101 – For king and country An alignment system based on cause and effect
- Dragon Magazine 101 – Plain it by the numbers A system for tailoring challenges to characters
- Dragon Magazine 104 – Assessing, not guessing
- Dragon Magazine 106 – The way we really play
- Dragon Magazine 107 – A new loyalty base
- Dragon Magazine 107 – Economics made easy
- Dragon Magazine 107 – Revised reaction, loyalty, and morale tables
- Dragon Magazine 107 – The six main skills
- Dragon Magazine 107 – When the rations run out
- Dragon Magazine 109 – Blades with personality
- Dragon Magazine 109 – Fighters for a price
- Dragon Magazine 109 – Giant-sized weapons
- Dragon Magazine 109 – Locals aren't all yokels
- Dragon Magazine 110 – Dragon Damage revisited
- Dragon Magazine 110 – The Cult of the Dragon – Dracolich
- Dragon Magazine 111 – Good stuff, for a spell
- Dragon Magazine 111 – No campaign ever fails
- Dragon Magazine 112 – Revenge of the Nobodies
- Dragon Magazine 115 – Elven Armies and Dwarves-At-Arms
- Dragon Magazine 116 – By Tooth and Claw
- Dragon Magazine 116 – Hello Your Majesty Communication in history and fantasy
- Dragon Magazine 116 – High Seas
- Dragon Magazine 118 – A Hero's Reward
- Dragon Magazine 118 – Gladiatorial combat in the AD&D game
- Dragon Magazine 123 – The Mystic College
- Dragon Magazine 125 – Armies From the Ground Up
- Dragon Magazine 127 – In Defense of the Shield
- Dragon Magazine 127 – Two Hands Are Better Than One
- Dragon Magazine 133 – The Wild Warriors
- Dragon Magazine 136 – A Room for the knight
- Dragon Magazine 136 – Building Blocks, City Style – A city-generation system for fantasy campaigns
- Dragon Magazine 136 – Fifty Ways to Foil Your Players
- Dragon Magazine 136 – The Long Arm of the Law
- Dragon Magazine 137 – Weathering the Storms – A new weather system for fantasy game campaigns
- Dragon Magazine 137 – What's for lunch – A detailed hunting system
- Dragon Magazine 143 – The Highs and Lows of Fantasy
- Dragon Magazine 145 – A Castle Here, A Castle There
- Dragon Magazine 145 – Bazaar of the Bizarre
- Dragon Magazine 145 – Holding Down the Fort
- Dragon Magazine 145 – Strongholds Three
- Dragon Magazine 145 – Your Home Is Your Castle
- Dragon Magazine 148 – Always Wear Your Best Suit
- Dragon Magazine 150 – The Dragon's Bestiary – All life crawls where mind flayers rule
- Dragon Magazine 150 – The Sunset World – In the realm of the mind flayers
- Dragon Magazine 150 – Unspeakable Secrets Made Easy
- Dragon Magazine 154 – All in the Family – Heraldry, politics, and feudalism in fantasy campaigns
- Dragon Magazine 161 – It's sort of like a wand...
- Dragon Magazine 163 – Magic Gone Haywire
- Dragon Magazine 163 – Oops! Sorry!
- Dragon Magazine 167 – Curses Are Divine
- Dragon Magazine 167 – Just Give Me The Money
- Dragon Magazine 174 – Bugged About Something
- Dragon Magazine 179 – Something Completely Different
- Dragon Magazine 184 – The 7 sentence NPC
- Dragon Magazine 184 – The Referee's Code of Honor
- Dragon Magazine 187 – The Wild, Wild Wilderness
- Dragon Magazine 191 – Different Totes for Different Folks
- Dragon Magazine 199 – Crude but effective – Simple tactics for humanoids
- Dragon Magazine 200 – The Color of Magic
- Dragon Magazine 201 – Seven Steps to a Successful Castle
- Dragon Magazine 202 – Even Wilder Mages
- Dragon Magazine 211 – Sight in the Darkness
- Dragon Magazine 211 – The Ecology of the Dungeon
- Dragon Magazine 216 – Paths of Power
- Dragon Magazine 228 – Real Jungles
- Dragon Magazine 234 – The Draconomicon – The lesser evils of the draconian undead
- Dragon Magazine 239 – 101 Dirty Orc Tricks
- Dragon Magazine 241 – Al-Quadim The Roof of the Wolrd – Yak-Man Homeland
- Dragon Magazine 242 – Mage Construction
- Dragon Magazine 242 – The Laws of Spell Design
- Dragon Magazine 243 – Enchanting Weapons
- Dragon Magazine 252 – 101 Hauntings
- Dragon Magazine 271 – Creating Word Puzzles for Your AD&D Game
- Dragon Magazine 271 – Riddles of the Rhyming Sphinx
- Dragon Magazine 282 – Logic Missiles
- Dragon Magazine 284 – Run For Your Lives How To DM A Dragon
- Dragon Magazine 330 – Enter the Far Realm
Now to print 'em, punch 'em, and then scribble into the margins... When I'm done I'll share which I've kept and which I've discarded, with a few sentences about each.
Got a recommendation of your own? Write to me to let me know.
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Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 27
Adventurers
| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Brawley | Dwarf level 1 | Stocky, baldy, scimitar-wielding sea knave. |
| Mano Stern | Cleric level 1 | A dwarfish follower of Mesha, the Bringer of the Seasons. Blessed with almost supernatural ability to detect wickedness; cursed with a limp and clumsiness. |
| Norwell | Thief level 1 | A finely dressed slim fellow of few words. Carries the scar of betrayal. |
Mano Stern's report linked at the end of the post.
Warmshade 8th, Earthday
Gods weave the strands of destiny as they please; and what is pleasure to them rarely makes sense to the mortals of Wilderlands.
A dwarf pirate left for dead on an island whom managed to survive on a diet of coconuts and rats.
A man of faith whose body fails him, seeking what he does not yet understand.
A thief hiding the wounds of double-crossing underneath noble's clothes.
Which deity brought the unlikely trio will never be know, but the trail left by them perhaps will become a story of legends.
It was a hot day without a trace of shade. They saw the massive eagle-like temple towering over the city way before they even reached the Gates of Antil. The guards greeted them with enthusiasm, despite some members sporting a rather dishevelled look. They recognised the symbols of Mesha—a snow-covered twig with vibrant sprouting leaves—and were in good mood due to bountiful yield they've had this year.
“Lads, I'm taking you to the finest establishment in Antil, and getting you drunk!” Brawley rumbled.
“That is a kind offer, but I am short on coin.” Mano replied in a humble manner. Norwell was happy his status was honoured—of course he should be taken only to the best of the best.
“Worry not! It's on me!” the dwarf insisted.
Of course, having set foot in Antil for the first time in his life, he had to ask the locals for instructions. And so they headed off to the Seven Vultures inn at the docks.
Three streets were bustling with life, from street urchins running in giggling gangs to sun-tanned paddlers selling their goods to muscle clerics of the Windgod engaging into wrestling matches.
This richness of life was so captivating that Norwell failed to notice a child-like figure until it bumped into him—and ran away with his coin purse and set of thieves tool he kept in a sack!
Mano Stern, shocked by such villainy in broad daylight, immediately pursued. Norwell followed. Brawley, dressed in plate, panted heavily far behind them, but followed none the less.
They ran after the child through narrow alley ways, leaving the chatter of life behind them. The houses here were so tight that barely three men could walk side by side. Pumped with adrenaline, the trio barely noticed the lack of life and unusual quietness about the place.
“There he went!”
Mano pointed at at ramshackle stone building sandwiched between two larger buildings. The wooden door were slammed shut, and there were no windows. It seemed to be a one story house. Once the dwarf caught up and rested, the party was ready to go in.
The doors revealed a staircase going down what seemed to be a cellar of the building. The sun barely penetrated into the building, revealing a wide sofa opposite the entrance. Lighting a torch they descended.
It was a musty room, quite wide. There was a door to the right of sofa, and a wooden chest and glass cabinet to the left of it. No child was in sight.
Mano stood in the centre of the room, providing valuable light. Norwell carefully inspected the doors, finding nothing, but picking up a heavy smell of rum emanating from behind. “Surely a trap!” paranoid Brawley muttered.
Glass cabinet intrigued the dwarf. Visual inspection revealed that it is suspiciously flush against the back wall. Applying some force to it led to yet another discovery—the cabinet rotates around single vertical axis, and opens up into another corridor.
Mano's torch barely illuminated it, revealing three doors alongside it: two on their left and one the right. Dwarf picked up on the shoddy construction of the whole place, and the fact that corridor actually slopes downward.
Arranging themselves in a single file rank, the party cautiously checked door by door. First to their left was stuck; second was locked; first to their right opened up.
It's been nearly three hours since they reached this point. Brawley was at the edge of his wits; Norwell was convinced that this is some sort of thieves den and they should get out as soon as possible; Mano was the only calm one.
Seeing nothing but three beds and two small round tables was enough to send the dwarf into the rage. He rushed in, yelling and cursing, stabbing each bed with unadulterated violence. A weak whimper was heard from the second bed.
“Show yerself, ye scum!”
Flipping the bed revealed a freshly perished child-sized figure lying on its belly, coin purse and thieves tools right next to it. Kicking it over made others exhale a sigh of relief—it was a nasty goblin, not one of the street urchins. But the dwarf wasn't finished yet. He cut off its head and kicked it around the room.
“What do ye think about dis, cleric!”
“The seasons come and go, such is the cycle of life.”
Mano Stern was not to be disturbed easily.
The room had little else to offer. But the locked doors still beckoned them. Although they've proven themselves to be too much of a challenge to Norwell's lockpicking skills, combined strength of Mano and Brawley was enough to knock them open.
Another two small beds, a wooden chest, and a small roundtable with weird looking lamp sitting on top of it. The dwarf focused on chest, while the thief and cleric inspected the lamp.
The chest held a curious assortment of skulls, bones, and flagstones. Brawley moved them around with his scimitar, finding an iron stick on the bottom. He braved picking it up. It was indeed a rusty iron stick.
The lamp looked rather exquisite in its make. Although it seemed no precious metals were used to craft it, the shape was complex. It resembled a spiral, almost as if someone took a piece of wood and twisted it like a liquid in some unnatural shape, and then froze it. It felt both natural and alien at the same time. Mano put it in his backpack.
Having had enough of this rotted cellar, the party decided to head out.
It was still day, and the alley was still devoid of life. Well, mostly devoid of life. An ebony skinned figure dressed in plate mail was leaning against the building, whistling an unfamiliar tune. Its bald head was protected by a neat white turban.
“Oh, have you found anything of value inside?”
The trio was perplexed.
“You, yes, you!” the figure insisted, pointing figure to the party.
“Have you found... The magic sword?!”
“Oh come on, you surely found something? A little coin for me to keep my mouth shut?”
Last request hadn't landed to well with the dwarf, causing him to brandish his bloody sword at the extorting person. The man retreated back and whistled loudly. Three drunk men tried to run forward, but were constantly tripping and stopping to catch their breath. Brawley recognised his own ilk.
Few well thrown rocks and witty insults were all that was needed to send the pack fleeing and reeling.
“Where can we sell this lamp?”
It didn't take much asking around to learn about the Walled Bazaar, where all kind of wares trade hands. They reached it within an hour or so.
“Wait, I wanna rub it first... Cover me...”
Brawley gently held the lamp while Mano and Norwell stood guard. The retreated to one of the side alleys leading the famed marketplace. The dwarf felt warmth and could sense the craftsmanship required to make such a lamp. He rubbed it gently. No djinni came out of it. But something else happened. He noticed a faint flicker of light. Whenever he rubbed it for a minute or so, the lamp seemed to flicker for a second.
“Boys, this requires further investigation!”
The party proceeded to rent a room at King's Arms tavern. Without chronicling all the details of their bedroom shenanigans, it is sufficient to say they figured out how to rub the lamp the right way for it to emanate a bright white light.
One of the gods laughed.
Player Session Reports
- Mano Stern's diary entry
Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.
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Overlord's Annals Zine: Volume 1 Issue 3
A zine chronicling the Conquering the Barbarian Altanis D&D campaign.
This issue details the seventh, eighth , and ninth session. It also includes a gorgeous full-page illustration of Richter the Ruddy by Rebecca Burgess.
You can download the issue here.
Overlord's Annals zine is available in print as part of the legendary Alarums & Excursions APA, issue 563:
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News: Goblinoid Games are back!
Dr. Daniel Proctor, the creator of Labyrinth Lord, Advanced Edition Companion, Advanced Labyrinth Lord, Mutant Future, and much more, has shared some exciting news:
When I suspended Goblinoid Games' social media presence two months ago, it was because I gave myself an ultimatum.
I would write a substantial, totally new product by the first of the year and be well on my way to editing a new edition of Labyrinth Lord. If I didn't succeed in these challenges, I had decided I would close up shop for good. I am near completion of a new solo adventure, currently sitting at around 24,000 words.
In retrospect, maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on myself. I've suffered from moderate to severe anxiety for about the last seven years, amplified by a series of large life changes. The kind of life changes you check the boxes for on a form to determine how much stress you have in your life. At any given time during those years I would probably have three or four big ones happening at once. As a result, all of my hobbies essentially came to a halt. It was hard enough to get by day-to-day, much less write creative content and keep up with the demands of my publishing business. Some of you know I'm a professor, and just performing those duties was challenging enough. And of course Covid.
But I'm happy to say that at this point I'm in a much better place than I've been in years. I've come to terms with many things in my life, and I'm finally in a position to pick up where I left off. I know the industry has changed, and I know many of my supporters have been disappointed with my lack of support for my game lines, Labyrinth Lord especially. I've also let down my publishing partners. But I'm here to tell you today that all of that is coming to an end. I'm still a one-person, Indy publisher, but in addition to my own efforts I'll be be reaching out to others for partnerships moving forward. I'm very excited for what the future holds, and I hope some of you will join me on this new journey.
To read a little bit more about what I have in mind, please visit my website. It's still under construction but I have some information there about what's next for Labyrinth Lord.
Here's to the future!
Dan
goblinoidgames.com
Be sure to read the link website because it shares more about upcoming changes. Some of the highlights:
- Labyrinth Lord (LL) was one of the first retroclones (alongside OSRIC). Nobody back then knew what was and wasn't allowed under Open Gaming Licence. For that reason LL changed a number of small things from B/X (e.g. experience tables, treasure tables, and so on). As Old School Essentials (OSE) has shown, it is possible to entirely copy the system without running into trouble.
- With new insight, LL 2E will come even closer to B/X, the system it emulates, and will include all the known errata (hopefully they are aware of this one) as well as improved layout and presentation. To be honest, I don't find the current one very lacking. It just oozes character.
- There will be second edition of the Advanced Edition Companion (AEC) as well. There might be a second edition of Advanced Labyrinth Lord (compilation of LL + AEC).
- Second edition won't be crowdfunded, and will simply arrive into stores (DTRPG and Lulu I presume). I've noticed a lot of resistance to fundraising from the older guard. Not sure why is that, but I get a feeling they think it would somehow sell them out, or something similar. In reality, it would provide them enough funds to improve the production values of their product.
- Tentative release date is Q1 2023.
I am very much looking forward to the Second Edition!
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Fresh From Postbox: OZ
Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Facing the Abominable Hydra illustrated by Stefan Poag
The treasure was where they left it—a pile so wide six men could easily roll in it. Everybody but Amanda, Silente, and Theo dove straight into the pile, stuffing their sacks with as much coin as they can. A pile of mangled deer corpses next to it were no concern of theirs.
“Ahem—Boys!” Amanda coughed loudly, pointing down the dark corridor they haven't ventured through yet.
A massive human-like head, adorned by long, greasy, lanky hair—imagine armpit hair half-a-meter long—with horse-like jaw hovered high in the air. Its diabolical cackle revealed a sickening array of ghastly, yellow, rotting teeth. True horror was revealed only after it'd made few more steps forward.
Lantern light now fully illuminating the figure, revealing its elephant-like body covered in warts and blisters. To further the nightmare, ten more heads like the first one—with varying degrees of balding—were connected with thick worm-like veiny tubes to the body.
Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 13
 |
|---|
| Moments before the chaos. From left to right: Amanda, Brother Kallahan, Sashundo, and Gabriel Faria. |
This Tuesday my players—Anthony, Mitch, Moss, and Sam—surprised me with a mind-blowing gift. They commissioned the prolific Stefan Poag to illustrate the above scene.
I love how he managed to convey the look of greed on Brother Kallahan, Sashundo, and Gabriel. I mean, just look at Gabriel's smirk! And Amanda in the background, trying to warn them, is just perfect. And of course, the abomination itself is just wonderfully disgusting!
By all accounts, it was an intense scene. The players knew something horrible and dangerous lurks in the caves, but the massive piles of coin were just too alluring. There was is in fact more coin than they could carry—even if each one of them stuffed two large sacks each. But not all of them were gold.
Hence Sashundo, the party dwarf, basically filtered gold coin through his hands, while the others shovelled them in. The players were rolling every turn to determine how much gold coin they managed to take, racing against time.
Thanks to Amanda they were not surprised. The death toll was still quite staggering: Sister Silente and Brother Theo, Krom Molder and Bowie, and Sashundo. Four retainers and one player character. The last perished in an amusing way (as it often happens with that player). He tried to run past the monster, but the floor was littered with corpses. So he decided to jump over them. Alas, he landed straight into the monster's mouth(s).
I was wordless for quite some time when the players presented their gift. Couldn't do anything but laugh from happiness and gratitude.
Thank you guys!
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Fresh From Postbox: Fight On! Compilations
Fight On! Compiled Compilation II + 11:
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Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 26
Adventurers
| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Dingbatt Barett | Thief level 3 | Ginger, skinny, and scrawny copy of Johnny Depp; speaks like a moron. |
| Kenobi | Thief level 3 | Short, elderly man dressed in blue leather armour with a matching scarf. |
Warmshade 7th, Waterday
It's been nearly two months since Dingbatt joined the Hydra Company. And it's been as much time since he went out on an expedition. Everyone seems to get to do cool stuff but him.
“Go shovel some bale.” “How about you rearrange some boxes?” “Hey, all these men need to be trained. Show them some of your tricks.”
Oh the injustice! But Dingbatt had an idea; nay, a plan! He will show them all how valuable he is. Two weeks ago he ran into an older man. Kenobi was his name, thievery his trade. Remembering how Winslow used to test new recruits, he challenged him to a climb-off. The man gladly accepted.
And so they went to the warehouse Hydra Company calls their headquarters. There, they faced each other, climbing on the beams and old cranes, swinging around like monkeys. Dingbatt was first to fall down, proving that Kenobi is indeed a better simian.
Following their bonding experience, the two accomplices decided to thoroughly survey Antil for any interesting marks. Now, they reconvened to discuss their findings:
- The Windgod Temple, a 200 feet tall, monumental statue of an eagle spreading its wings, towers over all of Antil. Heck, it is visible for miles. The High Priest and a hundred of mightiest acolytes are housed there. It swallows and regurgitates endless stream of pilgrims day by day; many of them leaving donations. Brother Kallahan believes most of the treasure is deposited in the underground vaults, and not on the higher levels.
- Seniskell manor, a large walled estate with a sea view. Resting at the edge of Pilgrim's Quarters from the time before the quarter was even established, and owned by a supposedly quite old and rich family. Locals consider them mad, and rumours run amok for they rarely, if ever, leave their estate.
- The Black Spire, a 50 feet tall tower with no discernible windows or gates. Although a source of many mysteries, residential buildings now surround it. Locals mostly ignore it, and children play at its base.
- The Temple of Jamboor, although in slums outside of the Walled City, the rumour has it that it is only a front for more sinister matters. They pick up street urchins, beggars, panhandlers, and other lowlife, and “get them to see the light.” They've been refused to establish their temple in the Pilgrim's Quarters.
“Old, rich dudes make for the best target!”
“But how do we get closer without looking suspicious?”
“I know! We have an old rowboat. We'll pretend to be a father and son fishing, and we'll use the opportunity to survey the manor.”
“Who will be father? Who will be son?”
A day of pretend-fishing did not go entirely as planned. Two rowboats with six armed men each, intercepted them around noon, demanding they “stop ruining Lord Seniskell's view of the sea.” The men wore colours of the City Guard, and threatened immediate violence. “Father” and “son” were quick to row back, muttering profanities under their breath.
“We shall strike on the night of following day!”
Warmshade 8th, Earthday
Two master thieves came up with another bulletproof plan for surveying the manor—offering street urchins a dagger in return for intelligence. “Why give you coin, when I can give you a dagger, and then you can earn your own instead?” Dingbatt attempted to close the sale with a heavy wink.
Alas, the children were more interested in their own coin purses, and were quickly all over them. “Why don't you earn something first and then come back to us?” one yelled. “Ha, look at these losers!” another one chimed in. The duo responded in kind, slapping and belting whichever kid they could lay their hands on.
With the justice served, Dingbatt and Kenobi were now ready to rest until nightfall.
Howla and Vanis, the Sister Moons, were high up on the sky in their full might, providing illumination to the writhing life underneath them.
The thieves approached the walled estate from the east side; a dark alley rarely travelled. The young helped the old climb over the ten feet wall. Gardens were eerily quiet. Numerous windows were covered with what seemed to be black curtains.
The manor, although of olden design, was quite sturdy. It was a one story affair with a simple slopped roof. The duo quickly scaled the building wall, finding themselves on the top. There they lay in total silence and spent some time observing and listening. Nothing was to be heard from anywhere.
Finally, Dingbatt determined it was time to act. Kenobi tied a rope around his waist, and then he descended down to inspect one window. Like the rest of the building, it was of sturdy make. There were no bars or securing mechanisms of any kind—or to be more correct, the thief hadn't found them. A simple latch was on the inside, a trifle for Dingbatt.
Carefully moving the curtain to the side revealed little. It was pitch black and the moonlight wasn't at the right angle to penetrate the darkness. The room had a feint smell of feces. He pulled on the rope gently, and climbed back up to share his findings with Kenobi.
This is what they came here for. No time to chicken out now.
And so, down through the curtain they went.
It took them nearly an hour to scan the room they found themselves in. Spanning nearly hundred feet, and nearly as wide, this was obviously some sort of a master suite.
A massive, four-poster canopy king-sized bed was set against the northern wall, flanked by two teak nightstands. A grand piano dominated the north-east corner; two harps, a harpsichord, and a cello were neatly arranged in the center of the room; two seven feet high, four feet wide wardrobes, and four dressers rested against western wall. An oak table with four chairs stood close to the musical instruments. There was a matching end table with a silver tea service. Double doors on the southern side were flanked by suits of plate mail holding halberds.
Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs, with rat and mice droppings here and there.
The duo rummaged through stuff, finding mostly moth-eaten clothing and more droppings. Few items of value were found: a gold earring, a pearl necklace, and two gold cufflinks.
But the most interesting findings lay underneath an ornamental wooden box in one of the wardrobes. Kenobi recognised something was amiss with the floor panel. A secret entrance? He ran his fingers on the ground, finding a notch running on one edge. Sensing great riches underneath him, he stuck his fingers in, and pulled.
Dingbatt was listening at doors when we got startled by a loud “thud!” sound coming from his right. To his surprise, Kenobi lay there, face first, bum out, in the wardrobe. Unwilling to touch him, he pulled on one of the halberds. The statue offered no resistance, and went down to the ground, causing tremendous noise.
Unwilling to waste no time, he ran up to Kenobi, only to discover him quite stiff. There were no prick-wounds on his fingertips, although his hands were all hues of purple all the way to his elbows. Sure that all kind of guards will pour through the doors, he dragged stiff Kenobi and rolled him under the massive bed. Scarf was all that protected his face against feces underneath.
Next, he went for the doors, and tied the handles together. And then he hid in one of the wardrobes.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Three loud knocks could be heard.
It is difficult to say for how long have they been hiding, but long enough for Kenobi to regain control of his limbs. Nobody tried to open the doors. No further knocks were heard. Both listened attentively, but the manor was as silent as when they first entered the estate.
This is what they came here for. No time to chicken out now.
And so Dingbatt proceeded to make a trap-like contraption connected to the doors. If someone tried to pull them open, they'd have to break the bed. At the same time, Kenobi tied grappling hook to a rope, threw it over a hanger in the wardrobe, and then gently jammed the tip into the notch. Then he pulled on the rope from safe distance.
The panel gave easily, opening up into a staircase below.
And so, down they went.
Sneaking on, they found themselves in a stone chamber, some forty by twenty feet. Two wooden coffins laid on raised stone platforms. Between them stood a simple stone column with a pedestal on top. On it, a crystal ball rested. South-west wall seemed to be ajar, as if someone forgot to close a secret doors or something of a kind.
One of the thieves threw a sack over the orb, while the other secured their escape route by wedging some iron spikes into the trapdoor they came through. Dingbatt's attempts to lasso the covered ball were unsuccessful. Taking a deep breath, both entered the room.
The younger of the two approached the column, and carefully tied a rope around the base of the orb. The older approached the suspicious looking wall. He took a peek inside. It was pitch black; unnaturally dark. But he could see Her, the most gorgeous woman ever. And she called him; and her gaze was irresistible just like her passions.
When Dingbatt turned to his right, Kenobi was nowhere to be seen.
“Kenobi?”
No answer came back.
“Damn... Oh, damn!” Dingbatt cursed “Damn, damn, damn!!!”
“I should run... But I cannot leave him behind!”
Steeling his resolve, he covered his eyes and burst into the room, yelling and swinging. Peeking between his index and middle finger revealed little of the room, except a gorgeous woman with pale skin, and Kenobi slowly walking towards her.
He could see him take few steps, and then stop, as if he is hesitating. But then he'd take few more steps.
“Leave him be!” Dingbatt shouted as he threw his lantern. Alas, darkness, adrenaline, and covering his eyes, did not help at all. The lantern flew somewhere... And was caught by someone.
The true nature of his predicament rapidly uncovered itself. There was a pentagon-shaped depression in the center of the room filled entirely with thick, red liquid. Over it hung a naked human body suspended with a series of wires, still dripping into the pool below.
The grisly sight dominated his attention so much he barely heard the maniacal laughter that filled the room, nor did he register sinister laugh as the secret doors behind him closed.
“Are you lost, friend?” a warm male voice inquired. There stood a pale gentleman in fine clothing. It was obvious this was a true gentleman; someone who will care for Dingbatt much more than those “officers” of Hydra Company. This man right here was worth following, nay!, worth dying for.
“Friend, I have some work I need help with. A little bit of clean up and organisation. Would you be willing to do that for me?”
“Oh yes, Master! Anything for you, Master!” Dingbatt squeaked with delight.
“Come, come into my embrace!” the woman beckoned Kenobi. And he did, and they hugged and kissed. And Dingbatt watched Kenobi shrivel and grow even older right in front of his eyes.
“Would you like to meet my husband?” she asked gingerly “Oh, isn't it too early for that? I mean, I just met you?” Kenobi retorted confusingly “Don't be shy on me now. Come, let' go...”
Wondering how he found himself in an upcoming threesome, Kenobi took a step into darkness. Alas, he tripped over something, and fell face first into what felt like a pool of gooey substance.
“Oh, you dirty pig! How dare you!” he heard the dames enraged voice. He felt someone lifting him effortlessly, and then swinging him around like a ragdoll. Next thing he felt was cold, hard stone, breaking his spine. The last thing he heard as life abandoned him was a male voice “Oh, come on Esmeralda, why'd you have to kill him! We could've drained...”
“Follow me friend. We will be here soon.” the surviving thief was more than eager to make his new patron happy. He will prove himself!
“Here we are! You see that pile of bodies over there? I need you to separate hands and arms into one pile; ankles, feet, and legs into the other; torsos one the third; and finally, anything remaining on the fourth. I want them really neat. Can you do that for me?”
“Oh yes, Master! Oh yes! Do you want me to do it on all four with my teeth? Because I can do it like that if you want me to!”
The man looked at him with a surprised face. “Quite devoted, are you? Go ahead!”
This is what he came here for. No time to chicken out now.
And so Dingbatt dove straight into a mass of mutilated, gnawed corpses, and started sorting them out. He could hear cheers of approval from behind—unlike anything he ever heard from his supposed “comrades” in the Hydra Company.
He had found his true home at last.
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