Master Novice - Part 01

Hank looked out over the vast plain below. The past few weeks had been filled with nothing but dreary travel, from before the sun rose until darkness fell. Even Eric's seemingly endless prattle had fizzled out a few days back, victim of the boredom.

He heard quiet steps behind him. Turning, he saw Sheila approaching. He let his gaze linger for a moment - she was still very beautiful, even after all the years - then turned back to the prairie.

"Do you have any idea why Dungeon Master has sent us out here?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing beyond what he told us three weeks ago," he replied. "'Go to the Giving Woods, 20 days to the east, and there await one who comes.' More direct than his usual vague advice, to be sure, but not exactly complete."

"He hasn't shown up since Venger was banished to some 'crystal sphere,' more than 15 years ago, and now he suddenly reappears to send us halfway across the entire continent, and we don't know why." She shook her head and frowned. "I don't like it."

He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Neither do I, and I'm sure that nobody else does, either. But Dungeon Master has never done anything to harm us. I'm sure that everything will be explained when we arrive."

Eric's voiced interrupted them. "Hey you two, feel like hunting?"

Hank turned to him and said, "Sure, I'll go." Turning back to Sheila, he asked, "Want to come along?"

She sighed. "I guess so. Let me get my knives."

As she returned to the campsite, Eric approached Hank. "She doesn't sound too happy."

"She's just feeling frustrated, that's all." They both turned to regard the plain.

Eric nodded. "I don't blame her. This is more boring than anything we ever did, back in the days." He glanced over his shoulder, and asked, "So how's the home life? Things been okay?"

Hank shrugged. "Not too bad. The usual problems, I suppose. Nothing serious, nothing major since the twins' birth."

Eric nodded again. "How are they?"

Hank shrugged. "Good. We left them in the care of their tutor. He said that they'd take a trip of their own, to meet some sage."

Eric raised his eyebrows. "No kidding?" He paused briefly. "Truth to tell, I'd rather be with them, than here."

Hank sighed. "I know, I know. So would we all."

At that point Sheila returned, and the small hunting party was on its way.

"Do you hear that?" whispered Eric.

Sheila and Hank nodded. "Drums," whispered Hank. "Somebody had a good hunt, I guess."

Sheila looked around and asked, "Any villages around here?"

Hank thought for a moment, and replied, "I think the closest one is that hamlet we passed through day before yesterday."

Eric frowned. "Goblins, then?"

Hank nodded, and added, "Or maybe orcs. Shall we take a look?"

They walked along the edge of the woods, heading toward the drums. Soon, they were able to hear the sounds of celebration clearly. Within minutes, they caught sight of the camp and stopped.

"Sheila, see what you can see," murmured Hank. "If there's any trouble, get out of there."

She nodded, and, pulling her hood over her head, disappeared.

Eric peered through the brush. "What do you think the party is for?"

Hank shook his head. "With luck, it really is something as simple as a good hunt. If it's orcs, then it might be a successful raid against a village, or perhaps travelers."

Sheila reappeared, breathing heavily. "Bugbears..." she panted. "Over a hundred... they have prisoners... the guards... smelled me!"

Hank's eye's widened. "Are they following you?"

She nodded. "I think so."

Eric jumped up and said, "Let's beat feet!"

Robert was deep in meditation. The occasional random image crossed his mind - Uni, his long-dead wife Lori, his entrance into the monastery - but mostly his mind was filled with sheer calmness. He allowed it to fill his being, cleanse his soul.

Suddenly he snapped to full consciousness. Someone or something was crashing through the woods, coming toward him. He grabbed his quarterstaff, feeling its familiar weight. It had been fashioned for him by Preston the wizard from his old club, many years past.

"Presto! Diana!" he quietly called. Diana was already there, javelin in hand.

Preston came out of his tent, rubbing his eyes. "Robert, you know I hate being called..."

"Something's coming." interrupted Diana. Immediately Preston was alert, preparing a spell. Before he could finish, Hank, Sheila and Eric came crashing out of the woods, all out of breath.

Hank panted, "Bugbears... dozens... following..." and then the first of the creatures burst out of the woods, wielding a nasty-looking sword.

Diana took it out with a swift boot to the throat, and cried, "Here they come!" just as the rest of the pursuing bugbears entered the clearing.

Rob stepped forward, yelling, "Wait! Let me handle this!" He turned to the creatures and spoke a language that seemed to consist of mostly growling and grunting. One of the beasts, slightly larger than the rest, stepped forward, and the two began conversing, the bugbear wildly gesticulating and pointing at Sheila.

Rob turned to the group and said, "He says that their tribal grounds have been trespassed upon. By Sheila. He says they recognize your scent."

Eric blurted out, "Tribal grounds? Don't bugbears usually live in caves, or underground?"

Rob shrugged. "Not this group, I guess."

The lead bugbear started grunting again, and Rob returned his attention to it. After a few seconds, he turned back and said, "They are willing to let the trespassing incident pass, but they demand payment for their fallen comrade."

Eric stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword. "I'll give them some payment..."

Hank held him back, saying, "No, Eric, it's not worth it - they could easily summon the entire tribe by sending runners." Turning to Rob, he asked, "What form of payment do they ask?"

Rob turned back to the leader and grunted a short question. The leader laughed an evil laugh and pointed at Sheila, grunting some more.

Rob turned pale. "He... he says that it will be determined by the chief - and Sheila must meet him."

Eric turned to Sheila. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard - got any gold on you?"

Preston shook his head. "They won't want gold. Many bugbear tribes in this area are firm believers in 'an eye for an eye.' The best that Sheila could hope for is slavery to these things. Or worse."

Hank nodded. "In this situation it's probably 'or worse.'" He looked at the others. "Any ideas?"

Preston said, "I've got one. Tell them we'll gladly turn over Sheila, if given until dawn to say our farewells to her."

Hank considered. "And then what?"

Preston shrugged. "We'll think of something by then."

Hank considered for a moment, then nodded. Rob turned back to the bugbear leader and grunted at it. The leader turned for a quick conference with its minions, then turned back to Bobby and spoke, with expansive gestures.

Rob turned back to the group and said, "He agrees, but he's leaving a guard detail to make sure we don't bail out."

Hank nodded and said, "We'd better get ready for whatever."

Preston turned to Sheila and said, "I'll need to speak with you."

She shrugged and replied, "Sure - I'll need something to keep my mind off of them."