Installment 002 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment002.png]
The trio started the walk down the road to the village of Goatminster rested and refreshed. It was a fine, sunny morning. The rutted dirt path meandered along the edge of the oaken forest which gave the town of Silveroak half of its name, through a peaceful landscape of pastures and farm plots. Birdsong rang merrily through the air and gentle breezes brought the pleasant scent of an awakening early-spring forest to their nostrils. Wikwocket was smiling and occasionally whistling happily in imitation of the birds, laughing whenever they seemed to respond to her. Bote listened to them as well, concentrating, as though expecting to decipher some hidden meaning in the chirping and warbling.
Even Al, who was still somewhat unhappy to be going off on what he felt was an unnecessary and probably wasted distraction, began to relax and enjoy the ambiance. After a couple of hours of strolling, they began to see farmhouses along the way.
"How do we know which one is the one we're looking for?" asked Wikwocket.
"The innkeeper said to just stay on the main road, and it'd go right up to the gate. It's a group of what sounds like very successful adventurers settled down among common farmers, I expect the property will stand out."
This turned out to be true. A few minutes later they reached a fence made of wrought iron bars with a large two-part iron gate running right across the road, blocking the entrance. Some distance beyond it, they could see a fine country manor suitable for at least minor nobility, with several smaller buildings gathered around it and a stone tower. There seemed to be a small coach-house and stables, a modest temple of some sort, and part of a field that seemed to have crude wood-and-straw imitations of various creatures scattered around it.
Seeing the gate, Wikwocket ran ahead of the others to get a closer look at them before anyone tried to open it. "Oh! Let me take a look! You learn a few things when you spend your youth sneaking into places you're not supposed to be!"
"Looks like it's locked," she said after a short examination, being careful to keep her fingers away. She slid some thin metal tools out from a sleeve and prodded the lock with them. "Do you think they might have any nasty traps set up?"
"No." answered Bote. Al and Wikwocket turned to look at them.
"How do you know that? Is there a Traps-Expert Bote with us today?" Al asked.
"You really should make a better study of philosophy someday. As I said before, there is always and ever only the Bote to whom you are speaking. In answer to your question, though, I don't truly know for certain," Bote replied, enjoying the banter, "but we were explicitly invited by the notice. The owners might want to discourage casual trespassing but it doesn't make sense for them to try to harm us for answering their invitation."
"They're right, though," added Wikwocket, "at least, I don't see any sign of traps."
Al stepped up to the gate and pushed, testing it. It didn't move, but something just beyond it did.
There was a flash of bright crimson light and a deep bone-shaking hum from what appeared to be a previously-hidden magic circle, wide enough to cover the entire width of the road beyond the gate. With a horrifying sound as though the earth itself was vomiting something up, a giant mass of writhing tentacles was extruded to the surface. About half of them seemed to be tipped with either an eye or a mouth, each one different from the others. The tentacles squirmed around each other such that it was impossible to tell if there was any body that they were attached to. The continual motion of the tentacular mass was accompanied by a sound like someone kneading a giant tub of entrails. A majority of the eye-tipped tentacles twisted to look at Al.
All three of the adventurers leapt back away from the gate, and Al flipped the left side of his robe aside to grab his mace, for all the good it might do him if they were attacked.
The mouths opened, and voices spoke.
"THIS IS NOT A PLACE FOR AVARICE OR MALICE. WHY HAVE YOU COME TO NOTAMIMIC MANOR?" the voices said, mostly in harmony. Al was sure he heard one of them whispering something about devouring their souls instead.
"Uh, we saw a notice at the Pickled Swine and we've come...," Al began, but the gate had made a click sound and swung slightly open as he said "Pickled Swine". The monstrosity on the other side of the gate seemed not to notice.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
"THIS WILL BE YOUR ONLY WARNING. IF YOU HAVE COME WITH INTENTION OF VIOLENCE OR THEFT, BEGONE! OR YOUR FATE WILL BE IRREVOCABLE AND UNPLEASANT!" most of the voices said, aside from one quiet voice that seemed to be eagerly whispering about rending of flesh and something it wanted to do with eyeballs.
To the shock of Wikwocket and Bote, Al was already pulling the gate open and walking towards the thing, as the magic circle flashed again and the writhing mass was pulled down into the earth. By the time Al reached where it had been, nothing visible remained besides the road itself.
"Close the gate behind you" Al said to the others as they more cautiously approached. Bote did so.
"Are you crazy?" Wikwocket asked, staring up at Al's face with concern. "I'm the professional thrill-seeker here, and even I didn't want to get near that thing! If it hadn't been sent back where it came from before you got to it, who knows what sort of horrible thing it would have done with you when you got close!"
"Nothing," said Al, slightly smugly. "Illusion. Didn't you notice that it kept staring at the gate even after we jumped back away from it? Still, whoever crafted that little show has seen some truly horrifying things to have conjured up an image like that. Come on, let's get this over with. I still say this is a waste of time, but I have to admit I'm kind of curious to meet whoever made that greeting."
"Spoken like a true wizard! Guess I'm out of a job now!" teased Wikwocket.
"Just because I know some wizardry doesn't mean I'm not a warrior." huffed Al, as they made their way up the path to the front door of the manor. It was a fine, large oak door, bound in iron. It was tall enough to admit one adult human riding on another adult human's shoulders, and wide enough for three of them to walk in side by side. Trellises running up the walls on either side of the door were covered with healthy ornamental vines.
Wikwocket drew her rapier, jabbed lightly at the door, and jumped back.
"What are you doing?"
"Just testing. I mean, 'Notamimic'? What if it really is a giant mimic, maybe they lure travelers here to feed to it." she replied, watching the door to make sure it didn't twitch. Then she stepped to the side to repeat the process with the vines.
"I don't think real mimics actually get this big." Al said. "As much as people seem to love talking about them, they're really not that common. I think we'd have heard stories about them if anyone ever found house-sized ones."
"Or maybe the ones that do get that big eat anyone who finds out about them." She slid her rapier back into its sheath and slowly reached a hand out towards the vines. When they didn't react, she quickly plucked a leaf and yanked her hand back.
The vines did not seize and devour her, so she relaxed and examined the leaf, twisting and pulling it. Then with a growing mischievous grin, she eyed the trellis the vines grew on.
"I think I should check the place out. You know, see what kind of dark secrets they might be hiding from us." she said, tugging at the trellis to see how strong it was.
"Absolutely not" said Al, "these sound like very experienced and powerful people, I think they might be ... upset ... if they discover someone who could be a burglar or assassin in their house."
"Come on, I'll be fine, you know I can be sneaky when I want to. Besides, I came on this journey for some adventure, and I don't think just knocking at the front door and being invited in is all that adventurous. It's not like I'm going to take anything or hurt anyone, I'm just going to look around a little and then come back out. You guys knock on the door and when they come to meet you, I'll find a way in while their attention is on you. Tell them I had to do something and I'll be along later. After I look around a little I'll come back out and knock on the front door."
"Wikwocket, no, seriously, this is way too dangerous. Help me out here, Bote, tell her how dangerous this is."
Bote looked in Wikwocket's direction, eyes distant as they tried to see some sign of what was to come. Then they sighed, and turned to focus on Al. "The signs are unclear to me. Could be good, could be bad. Now, rationally, I think you are correct, but I also think we both know that we can't really stop her if she is determined."
"Thanks for the help." said Al with obvious sarcasm.
"The innkeeper seemed to think the folks here were just and decent people. I think as long as she's not stealing or damaging anything or threatening anyone, the worst that will happen if she is caught is that we'll be sent away without meeting this junior warrior of theirs. I think this would be unfortunate, but I don't think they'd do any harm to us."
"Oh, yes, that's a good point. It would be such a shame if that happened." Al mused sarcastically. "Okay, go ahead then. But, really, be careful, and don't do anything else that might antagonize the people here."
Wikwocket was already halfway up the trellis, nimbly ascending. She waved down merrily, and climbed the rest of the way to the roof, to the apparent notice of nobody but her adventuring companions and a lone magpie lounging in the sun at the top of the trellis. Indignant, it hopped up the roof away from her making angry magpie noises. Wikwocket gave Al and Bote one more wave before moving away from the roof's edge, and looked around to see what she had to work with. Aside from the magpie, now watching her with curious interest, and herself, all that was atop the roof were chimneys. At one end of the building, smoke poured from one, a faint scent of cooking meat suggesting it came from the kitchen. At the other end, a small dormant chimney, probably attached to a fireplace used for supplemental heat for whatever rooms were at that end. It was too small to fit down. And in the middle - perfect. A large chimney, probably for the central fire to heat the building. No smoke was rising from it - it was such a nice day they presumably hadn't needed a fire that morning.
She crawled quietly across the rooftop to huddle next to the chimney, her motion startling the magpie again.
"EK-EK-EK-EK-EK!" it croaked accusingly at her.
"EK-EK-EK-EK-EK yourself!" Wikwocket repeated back in a passable imitation of the bird-call. "I'm just going to look around a little, relax!", she added, more quietly.
"EK-EK-EK-EK-EK!" the magpie repeated. It leapt into the air and flapped away.
Wikwocket reached up her left sleeve for the hook and the rather expensive lightweight rope it was attached to, and waited.