« (The Raptors) »

Hainrick cast Leo a disgusted look.

“Yes, yes I know Hainrick. You want everything at once. Patience, we have the bare bones of a plan. Now mind yourself, here comes that turncoat Baliceius Goldleaf.”

Baliceius Goldleaf strode through the door at the back of the room, the one that led to the private offices of the Guild. He regarded Leo and Hainrick with a conspicuous lack of expression.

“Hainrick. Leo, welcome to Whitewater Falls. Are you planning to explore our dungeon? I would have thought it rather simple for men of your talents. And lacking in treasures capable of satisfying you.”

“I am here as the designated Guild Master of this branch of the guild,” snapped Hainrick.

Baliceius smiled slightly and looked down his nose at Hainrick. “Really? By what right? I assure you I am the Guild Master here. Not you.”

“I was duly appointed by the leader of the Adventurer’s Guild in Sunhame, and confirmed in my post by Lord Heramakos, the Hierarch of the Church of our lord Sol Triumphant,” boasted Hainrich.

“None of that means anything here,” sneered Baliceius. “Thanks to the treaty of Whitewater Falls the Rose Dungeon in the persons of Marty and Rosita have renounced any links with the Adventurer’s Guild. As is laid out in the Treaty of Dardelm. Clauses 8 ii, iii and iv.”

Baliceius watched the fuming Hainrick with malicious amusement. Then he rubbed salt in his wounds. “Marty and Rosita are subjects of Aldrya, and their fief consists of the Rose Dungeon.”

* * *

A week went by and the Raptors were occupying a set of rooms at the guild. Baliceius had been unable to deny them their rights as guild members. They had done a couple of very half-hearted delves. More for the purpose of reconnaissance than anything else.

Now they were gathered in a glade not far from town. Heirrich waited until Leo had cast a wall of silence before he started talking.

“I think we have to make the elves lose confidence in the dungeon. I was thinking we could slaughter the ones present on the first level. I wouldn’t be too difficult to make it look like the dungeon ran amok.”

Leo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “They are not likely to accept our unsupported word.”

“Why not? I am a Sun Lord, you are a Sun Priest and Faldara is a Storm Khan,” Hainrick pointed out oblivious to the suspicion they were regarded by the elves.

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Leo opened and then closed his mouth as he tried to find a way to explain the facts of the local situation to their leader.

Faldara suppressed a grin at the frustration on Leo’s face, even as she decided to utilize Hainricks prejudices. “Because we are not elves. You know how the elves are Hainrick.”

“Humph... You might well be right Faldara. I know I would be suspicious of anything an elf tried to tell me,” agreed Hainrick reluctantly.

“Why don’t we recruit the Satyrs, I’ve heard they are not happy with the dungeon. And that Lady Rivanna denied them what they see as their god given right,” suggested Daviinos.

“That should work... I think,” agreed Leo.

Faldara glared at Daviinos and Leo. “I refuse to have anything to do with those filthy Lechers.”

Hainrick looked at her. “Very well. Faldara I will entrust you deliver our report to Lord Heramakos. You know the situation and are senior enough. Explain things to him and get things moving at that end. We may need backup to extract us from here if things go south.”

Faldara didn’t look happy, but she bowed her head in acquiescence.

* * *

Two days later after watching Faldara ride out the remaining members of the Raptors were once more gathered in the glade. They were rather desultorily passing around a wineskin as they waited.

Finally someone hailed them from out of the wood and two satyrs joined them.

The one in the lead grinned broadly, “Good morning. You wanted to see us. Yes? Me, I am Dyrissus, a Celebrant of Satiriapus and this is Froticus, the brother of Fracticus.”

Hainrich smiled to himself and thought. ‘Good, let us see if these fools go for it. If they don’t, no one will miss them.’

“Welcome,” said Leo as he passed the wineskin to Dyrissus. He watched as Dyrissus took a long pull at the wineskin before Froticus snatched it from him.

“The Council of Stability wished the Rose Dungeon to be tamed or destroyed. I believe that it can not be tamed. What say you?” asked Hainrich.

Dyrissus ceased trying to regain the wineskin. His eyes narrowed to slits, and his grin became nasty. “Sounds ’bout right. Uppity dungeon it be. Why need you us?”

“Well, it would be nice to have some local confirmation of our report. When we find all the elves on the first level have been killed by the dungeon...”

Froticus choked on the wine while Dyrissus sweated in fear. ‘Have to agree... Or they bastads kill us. Think Dyrissus think!’

Dyrissus licked suddenly dry lips. “Well, dungeon killed Fracticus and Froticus wants revenge. If dungeon rogue goes. Needs killing.”

“That’s right Dyrissus. So we can count on you. You will accompany us on our delve. The one where we will find the elves dead,” ordered Hainrich. “Needless to say you will be richly rewarded... Gold... Beautiful slave girls...”

Not giving the Satyrs time to change their minds, or rather a chance to make their escape, the Raptors gathered up their gear and prepared for their mission. They plied the apprehensive Satyrs with wine and led the way through the town and to the dungeon’s entrance.

They registered their intent at the desk at the top of the stairs, and descended to the entrance. They made their way through the slippery, damp entrance tunnel and boarded one of the rowing boats to cross the lake.

Dyrissus looked up at the flint-like expression on Hainrick’s face. “You will protect us, right. You need us alive, right?”

“Yes,” snapped Hainrich contemptuously. “Now shut up. The least said the better.”

When they reached the other side of the lake Hainrich climed the stairs to the entrance. Daviinos drew his sword and poked the reluctant Dyrissus in the ass. “Go on. Climb. You’re not in any danger. Not like the tree huggers,” and he grinned.

“Shut up you idiot,” snapped Leo. “Remember where you are.”