The Improbable Adventures of Scar and Potbelly: Ice Terraces of Crystal Crag (5 page)

Potbelly looked at his pitiful candle and for a moment thought about helping Scar. But then reconsidered and instead threw the latch on the hatch and used his shoulder to throw it open.

Boxes tumbled from where they had been stacked upon it and scattered about the alleyway. A beggar lying beneath a ratty blanket turned mead-soaked eyes upon him as Potbelly climbed free.

The whinny of a horse drew his attention to the end of the alley. There it opened onto a stable situated just within the walls. The building was dark and the horses a little restless, most likely due to his sudden appearance.

Potbelly wasted no time. He raced to the stable’s main office and kicked in the door. On a hook by the door he found a lantern which he quickly lit with his candle. About to return to the sewer, he saw a trio of small casks against the wall. He grabbed them and with the lantern, raced back to the hatch.

The casks he threw down first; the sound of them shattering below rose from the shadows. Then with lantern in hand, he shinnied down the rungs. From far down the sewer passage came the sound of Scar cursing.

Potbelly went beyond the area where the casks lay broken, then turned around and threw the lantern back amongst them. When it shattered and the flame hit the three casks worth of lamp oil, it erupted in a mighty conflagration.

“Here!” he shouted.

Fifty feet down the most monstrous sight he had ever seen twisted to face his direction. A massive wormlike creature with a row of eyes above a gaping, tooth-filled maw paused a moment to take in this new invader to its territory.

“Scar!” he hollered. “Are you okay?”

“Its scales are impervious to our blades,” came the reply.

The creature shot forward toward Potbelly.

“The beast is faster than it looks, too,” Scar warned.

Potbelly drew his dagger and sword as he navigated around the burning conflagration.

No legs, it pushed itself along with ridge-like areas than ran the length of its underbelly. Five of six eyes were fixated upon Potbelly; the sixth oozed a brownish liquid from a recent injury. The creature curved around the fire quite nimbly for its size and with mouth gaping wide, lunged for Potbelly.

Potbelly barely avoided being impaled by the beast’s teeth by leaping the stagnant channel of filth.

Having missed its target, the beast whipped its lower half forward, rolled its body in a complete revolution across the central channel, and ended right side up facing Potbelly on the other side.

“Damn, this thing’s fast!”

“Blind it!” Scar yelled. “Only way we’re going to beat this thing.”

Its maw closed and then upon opening produced the sucking noise they had heard before.

Potbelly darted forward, thrusting with his sword.

The beast made a sickening sound as the tip of his sword penetrated one of its central eyes. It then recoiled several feet and twisted violently.

“Not sure how we’re going to kill it,” Scar said, coming up behind him.

“Then let’s just get out of here.”

Scar nodded. “I’m with you there.”

Hopping over the channel of filth, they raced for the rungs leading up.

Seconds only they had before the beast recovered and again shot forward in pursuit.

Scar was the first to reach the rungs and had started up when Potbelly yelled, “Jump for it.” He turned and saw the massive maw coming for him. Leaping off to the side, he hit the ground and rolled as the beast slammed into the wall where he had been but a moment before.

Potbelly came up behind it and with both hands on the hilt, used all his strength in bringing his sword down in an overhand hack. There was a “ping” when the blade hit the creature’s outer, chitinous covering. It slid to the side barely leaving a scratch in its wake.

Its covering was comprised of overlapping layers of pliable scales that were hard as steel.

As Scar got to his feet and ran, the creature set after in fast pursuit.

“Run!” Potbelly shouted.

Scar sprinted with both swords in hand. The creature shot forward in an unexpected burst of speed for one so large. Its teeth reached for the fleeing man. At the last second, Scar darted to the right and as the creature passed, sliced into its mouth. He managed to slice some of the inner flesh as well as break off a small chip from a tooth. He hit the wall off-balanced and fell. One sword clattered away when he lost his grip on it; the other remained in hand.

The creature instantly spun about again, paused a moment to get its traction on the sewer floor, then shot forward with a vengeance.

“Get up!” Potbelly shouted as he raced forward to save his friend. But he was too late.

Scar had gotten to one knee just before the creature’s maw snapped shut. When it spun to attack Potbelly, Scar was no longer there.

“Damn the gods,” he cried and raced forward in rage.

The creature came at him and then spasmed. It reared up and in a fit of curling, thrashing and twisting, slammed into the roof of the sewer and the sides.

Potbelly leapt forward and scored on another eye but not before the creature’s thrashing knocked him several feet back and landed him on his butt.

It arched its back and slammed its head into the ceiling before crashing to the floor. Moving slower, it thrashed a few more times then grew still.

Potbelly approached cautiously thinking this maybe a trick. But then ten feet back from the maw, a sword blade thrust out between two layers of the creature’s protective covering. Then a hand followed.

“Scar!” he hollered as he leapt upon the creature’s back. Potbelly then pulled back the top layer of overlapping scales and used his knife to widen the hole.

“Gah!” Scar exclaimed as his head broke free. Covered in the beast’s inner juices, he climbed out.

“Man,” Potbelly said as he wrinkled his nose, “you smell bad.”

“
Smell bad?
” Scar exclaimed. “
Smell bad?
I killed the demon cursed thing.”

Potbelly chuckled. “So you did.” He lent Scar a hand and they clambered down from the creature. “I was afraid I had lost you.”

Laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder, he saw Potbelly’s worry. “So did I.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Now to kill that old man.”

They returned to the narrow passage down which the old man had fled. There they found him with lit torch in hand. Grinning, he said, “I knew you two would pull that off.”

“Open the gate so we can kill you,” Scar said.

Old Man held up his hands. “Now, hold on boys. There is no reason to take that attitude.”

“No reason?” Scar yelled. “How about bringing us down here to get us killed. Think that would be a good reason?”

Goo dripped off Scar and began to pool on the floor. The odor wafting from him nearly made Potbelly gag.

“If you promise not to kill me,” Old Man said, “I’ll give you an even share of the treasure.”

Anger fading slightly, Scar asked, “Treasure?”

Old Man nodded. “That is what it was guarding. There is a room beyond where the creature appeared that holds the bulk of Garrock’s accumulated loot.”

Potbelly sensed that his friend’s interest had been piqued. But would it be enough to stay his hand.

“What kind of treasure?” Scar said.

The old man paused a moment before saying, “That I don’t know exactly.”

Ire built up in Scar again. “You risked our lives and don’t even know what there is to gain?”

“Promise you won’t kill me and we’ll go see.” He searched first Scar’s eyes then Potbelly’s. Could see leniency in Potbelly’s but Scar’s was hard as ice. “You can take whatever you like and I’ll settle for what you leave.”

“That sounds good,” Potbelly advised. When Scar didn’t reply, he added, “You can always kill him after we get there.”

Scar glanced to Potbelly. “So be it.” Then to Old Man, “If you are lying, you die.”

“Fair enough.”

Old Man grinned, produced a key and unlocked the door. “You won’t regret this.”

As the door swung open, Scar mumbled, “I already have.”

Leading the way, Old Man returned to the main sewer tunnel and then turned in the direction from which the worm had come. Down a way, a large tunnel broke off from the main; he entered.

“It’s down here,” he said quietly.

Fifty feet later the tunnel opened up to a large area. Bones and bits of chitinous armor of the worm lay strewn all about.

“The beast’s lair I’d wager.”

Old Man glanced over his shoulder to Potbelly and nodded. Then he pointed off to a doorway to the right. “Through there.”

Scar strode forward. “Keep an eye on him.”

Drawing his dagger, Potbelly replied, “Will do.” Taking hold of the old man’s shirt, he drew him closer and held the knife to his chest.

The door wasn’t locked, a simple wooden crossbeam held it in place. Scar raised the crossbeam and set it aside, then opened the door.

“Bring the torch,” he said.

Potbelly brought the old man and his torch closer to the doorway.

It was a small room, barely fifteen by twenty with a low ceiling. Four chests sat against the far wall and a table was set along the left wall. Gold coins and jewels glittered from where they laid piled upon the tabletop.

“Ah,” Old Man said, “did I not tell you?”

Scar grinned back to Potbelly and motioned for him to return his blade to its sheath.

“Okay, we won’t kill you,” Scar said, then motioned for the old man to remain where he was. “You just stay there until we are through.”

“Gladly.”

The two friends entered the room.

“We need to find items of little weight yet worth much,” advised Potbelly. “Still have a ways to go before we return home.”

“Agreed,” Scar said. Taking his coin purse, he emptied out the copper coins and few small gems it contained and filled it with a handful of gold coins and a large ruby, diamond, and a pair of sapphires that would choke a rooster.

“Let’s check the chests,” Potbelly said.

One was filled with fine clothes, another with ingots of silver and gold; none of which was worth taking.

The bottom two-thirds of the third chest was filled with large golden disks. Atop them sat a trio of boxes; from the odor emanating from two, they held finely ground herbs of some kind. The third held dried, aromatic leaves.

“Any idea what these are?”

Scar smelled each in turn then shook his head. “No, but they must be valuable. Better take them.”

Potbelly nodded. “They don’t weigh much.”

The fourth chest held a helmet, a breastplate, and a set of greaves, all of which were too small for either of them to wear.

“Those are why we are here.”

From the doorway, Old Man watched them.

Holding up the helm, Scar said, “These?”

He nodded. “They are my family’s heirlooms,” Old Man explained. “The cowardly thief snuck in one night when I was out a few years ago and stole them.” He produced a sack and came forward, taking the helm from Scar. “These were my great-grandfather’s.”

“They look like they are brand new,” observed Potbelly.

“A powerful sorceress put an enchantment upon them, or so the story goes.”

Scar slipped a few more gems in a pocket then said, “I think we’re ready.”

Potbelly nodded.

Old Man put the rest of the armor in the sack then added the rest of the coins and gems from the table.

“Okay,” he said. “The hatch you want isn’t far from here.”

Scar gestured for him to lead the way. “After you.”

Back in the main tunnel, he led them further down until coming to a set of rungs beside which was etched a trio of circles.

“This is yours,” he said.

“Will we be outside the walls?”

He shook his head. “None lead that far,” he explained. “But from here you will have only a short way to go to reach the gate.”

“Will it be guarded?” Potbelly asked.

“Likely, but don’t worry. Gareth should be on duty and if you slip him some coins he will let you through. His wife just gave birth to their fifth and he desperately needs the money.”

Potbelly eyed the bulging sack the old man carried. “Will you be okay?”

“Yes,” Old Man replied, “Once they find what you did to their guardian, they won’t even think to come looking for me. They know I could never do something like that.”

“We appreciate your help,” Potbelly said as Scar began to climb.

“You boys have done more for me than I deserve. May the gods find favor in what you do.”

“Best of luck,” Potbelly said. Once Scar had gone up a bit, he started up too.

“You too, boys,” Old Man said.

He stayed there at the bottom of the rungs until the hatch was opened, Scar and Potbelly passed through and it was closed again. “You’re going to need it.”

Whistling, he slung the sack over his shoulder and returned the way they had come.