Sir Geoffery was ready for the off again. Once more into the
breach and all that. He had a new rope and had been practicing hard with his
new enchanted bonesplitter. It hadn’t been easy to find undead volunteers to
test those special properties…
He had also done a fair bit of praying while kicking his
heels at home and he rather felt that this had lead to the apparent improvement
in all three of his khremm resistance, his intellect and his charisma. Worth
wearing out the knees in his favourite breeches.
The villagers did not discourage him this time. Having seen
the swag he had returned with last time, there were actually a few volunteers
to accompany him but he did not want to see them smeared all over the castle
flagstones – well, not much…
Nothing looked different when he got back to the great skull
gate. This time he settled on a full frontal approach (possibly remembering his
cousin’s lobotomy) and he picked the lock in the small side door and squeezed
through to find himself looking at the other side of those great doors. The intrepid knight was just beginning to
survey a courtyard when he heard a noise above – some lowlife was attempting to
empty a bucket of boiling tar on his nicely smoothed barnet!
Jumping aside and cursing, he made his way northwards and
went through a gate with a family crest emblazoned upon – De’ Ath! – to find
another overgrown courtyard. In the centre was a fountain, now choked with
weeds. That looked worth a decent gander, he was thinking, when…
A decidedly woe-begone dragon dive bombe him from nowhere.
Its look proved to stem from it not being alive anymore. An undead dragon. How
annoying! The bonesplitter seemed to howl as it split the air before cleaving
through the decrepit beast. It might have kept the sparrows off the lawn but it
wasn’t keeping de Boyks from his date with destiny! In one minute flat, he had fragmented
it diligently.
He was quite pleased to notice that his bubble shield had
kept the heat of the dragon’s fire from inconveniencing him. He had an extra
spring to his step.
Although intrigued by the fountain, he acted the good scout
and searched the courtyard thoughtfully. He was soon rewarded. The increasingly
affluent Sir Geoffery found another 6,000 gold pieces in a badly concealed pit
and what made this treasure trove even better was that it was in a sack that
reduced it’s weight to a mere 50wu. Nice work if you can get it, he mused.
Now – back to that fountain. It seemd to approve of him,
although he understood not why nor how, and all of a sudden it began to flow –
fort h first time in years, he felt certain – with fresh water. Khremm exploded
about him and his charm and good looks were vaulted skywards (an increase of
11!). Then he decided to drink. Well, you have to speculate to accumulate, he
ruminated happily. Bingo! Very nice and it would have restored any lost STR or
CON but he was thus far unscathed.
Pressing on, buoyed still further with conviction that he
was a man on a mission, he passed through a doorway to the north which was
flanked by two towering statues of mighty warriors. He repressed the urge to
chop their limbs off a la the Venus de Milo but could not help but spit at their eyes, hoping that the wind would not
change.
Now he was through to what once must have been a splendid
great hall, complete with a massive table ringed with high-backed chairs. Once
again, he put on his searching pants and unearthed another chest. This one made
his face breakout in a huge lopsided grin for it contained a dagger. And not
just any old dagger! This one was a ghostly dagger of undead control (or so he
surmised, intuitively). It became invisible in his hand and, as a highly
accomplished evaluative warrior, he calculated that it was enchanted to get him
2d6 +3 adds with his entire attack, including his personal adds (now +152).
Woot!!! This little baby had more zip than the big brute of a bonesplitter.
Now he had a conundrum to solve – should use sword and
dagger and fight two handed? Noooo! That would mean strapping the still
mysterious buble shield to his back. What was a chap to do? He sat down to
think, vigilant but picturing a third arm. Where to place it though if the
dream came true and how might it go down with the damsels?