Chronicles of a So-called Fire God (Abridged)

4. Monsters in the Keep

The journey to Derno Ruins was laborious. The excess of wind, rain and mud would make even the strongest warrior weep if they had to face these conditions for too long. Our journey to the ruins was only a few days, but it felt like it would never end. After breaking camp on the fifth or possibly sixth day, I'd lost count to be honest, the sun finally started breaking through the clouds and rain started to ease considerably.  

Mud-caked and weary I was glad to see the ruins of Derno Castle in the distance. I estimated it would take only a couple of hours riding, but I didn't take into account the soft terrain. The rains meant the road was soft and fast riding was not possible. The horses would probably have refused anyhow. They were just as tired as us, possibly even more so.

Castle Derno would have been a formidable fortress in its day. Even from here, still miles away, Derno looked huge. Before it fell into ruin it looked as though it could easily have been as large as a small city such as Grennis. And this was one castle. Today though it was only impressive by the way the way the stones appeared to reflect the rainbow shimmering over the north tower.

It was long past lunch when we neared the castle. From my vantage point at the head of our little party, I could see there were visitors already within the keep. There were three that I could see. My eyes are keen enough that I could see a small woman bent over looking at the ground, probably a scout or a tracker. There was also a very tall creature, probably a half-orc given his stature. And finally there was a human man of average height wearing shiny armour.

The man in armour appeared to be conversing with the sky, or something living within it. Whatever it was it moved around a lot. That got me thinking. 

Without stopping or letting my newfound friends see, I started the ritual to determine if any of the people in the keep were magical in any way. All creatures and objects in this world emit a magical aura. For some it is very weak and barely discernable. With others their aura can blind the unwary.

I stopped my horse. The others carried on a few feet more and passed me before they realised I'd stopped. Lestergrad turned first to look at me. "What can you see?" he asked. I didn't respond at first. My focus was entirely on the scene in the keep.

"There are four people in there already," I said. "A human in armour, a halfling woman and a half-orc."

"And the fourth?" Lestergrad asked now looking at the ruins himself. "You said there were four."

"Yes, there are." I said. "The fourth one is small and flying around the head of the man in armour."

Lestergrad and Torq looked at me as if I had gone mad. 

"What?" I said, and then I remembered. "Oh, the flying one is invisible. I can see his magical aura."

Both Torq and Lestergrad looked towards the ruins. Their faces told me more than their silence. I could see that Torq was concerned. Lestergrad, however, was concentrating, possibly casting a spell of his own.

"Come," said Torq, "time to make new friends." The emphasis on the word 'friends' was clear. Torq did not consider these others to be friends but he rode on towards them nevertheless. 

Only a few moments later we reached the outer wall. My heart was thumping, I usually like to avoid conflict, not ride towards it. I readied a spell on the off chance that there was trouble ahead.

"Well met travellers," said the man in armour, "what brings you to Derno?"

"We could ask the same," said Torq. 

The man in armour smiled. "Oh, we're mere treasure seekers," replied the stranger. 

"So are we," said Torq. "You don't mind if we look around so you?"

The stranger smiled again. This time there was a twinkle in his eye. "Of course not," he said. "Just try to stay out of our way."

Torq just nodded and cantered his horse on towards the north tower. We obviously followed. It was getting late in the day and soon it would be dark, time to set up camp and eat. We'd not eaten since dawn and the rumbling in my stomach told me I could eat a whole hog to myself. Unfortunately we only had trail rations; dried cheese, jerky and a chunk of crusty bread. All washed down with slightly warm, day old water from our skins. It was drinkable, but I wished it could be cold and refreshing. It was neither.

After our meal Lestergrad suggested we check out the chamber at the foot of the north tower. The door was hanging by just one hinge and through the opening we could clearly see the edge of something that looked like there was a chest in there. I was surprised that our fellow treasure seekers had not looted it yet. "Let's keep it quiet though," Lestergrad said. "It may be they want the same item as we, and that orcish brute looks like he can more than handle that club he's carrying."

It was true, the half-orc, who we later came to know as Glirk, carried a large club in his hands and it looked like he considered it to be an extension of his arm. The club itself was little more than the branch of a tree, but the spikes nailed through the head of it would cause considerable damage.

Without making any fuss and drawing attention from the other guests of Derno, we made our way towards the chamber. Glirk was the only one that saw us, and he seemed to laugh to himself as we crossed the threshold. I found the humour a little disconcerting.

Inside the chamber there was definitely a chest. A large one. Could this little quest be this easy? Probably not. The chest had a large lock on the front. "Let me have a look at the lock," I said and I moved towards the chest. Unfortunately the chest moved towards me too. It grew legs! Arms. And fists!

One of the fists hit me square in the jaw.

I was flung ten feet away towards the back of the chamber. Lestergrad responded first. He fired an arrow into the centre of the beast. For this was definitely a beast. Mimics they call them. They imitate ordinary objects and wait for the right time. Once an unwary creature, in this case myself, passes by, the mimic attacks and devours that creature. If the creature is big enough, the mimic can last for months on one feed.

Torq joined the fray and sliced off the left arm of the chest-mimic. There was a silent howl from the mimc and we could see the rows and rows of tiny teeth lining its maw.

Getting to my feet, I charged forward. Chanting my power word and orange flames were sprouting from my hands. I directed the flames at the open maw and they coated the mimic. It shrivelled away in fear and pain. 

We all hit it once more; Lestergrad with his staff, Torq with his axe and me with fire. It was a quick battle. One in which the mimic was not destined to see a victory.

As the mimic lay in a quivering, smoking heap I heard a clapping of tiny hands to my left.

"Bravo," said a small voice. "I knew if I waited long enough I would meet a band of worthy allies."

"Allies?" Lestergrad, Torq and myself repeated.