4
My first memory of the Hellfort’s island was vomiting up whale-corpse saturated sea-water. The beach lasted a quarter mile before the treeline and then somewhere behind that a hill rose up; on that hill was a square fort made of black stone with a single simple tower. I had no memory of how our boat crashed or when we washed up on the bone-colored beach. Belum was down the beach, face down, still holding the handle of a broken oar. Not Bad was nearly a mile away, running, ears up, showing actual joy in movement that felt out of context. Near me, Strong was curled up. I looked around for Tough but saw nothing. I put my ear to Strong’s chest it was the sound of coffins and the blessings of the gods.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
I pushed on the monkey’s chest and something gross came out of its mouth but still, no movement. A sound of frustration came out of me from some new misery pit that I didn’t know existed in me. During some part of that, Tough had arrived.
The monkey pulled on the other monkey’s arm as if to drag him back to the living world but it was just dragging dead weight. Then Tough crouched low and a scream came out of the monkey that echoed off the rocks that had decimated our boat and brought us here. Strong vomited in Tough’s face. Tough nodded, as if that was a reasonable price to pay.
They both looked at me for a moment and it occurred to me that I had no idea what their relationship was. Siblings? Mates? Lovers?
My sword was nearby and the rope and chain were still wrapped around my torso, making a X across my chest. The medicine was tucked into the chest of my armor. The disarmed bear trap was still on Not Bad’s back.
Belum approached with the broken oar in hand. Behind him the sun was setting. The sky was colorless and against the bone-yellow-white of the beach it seemed as if all color had been leached from the world, as it was said the Blood Countess’ court wrought upon the world. The sun went down and it took warmth with it. With dusk we could see our breath as a gravelike cold set in.
Without talking, we began making a fire. The seawater was still in our clothes and the chill was seeping into our bones.
‘And the depths of the underworld shall bring forth flying spectres and crawling beasts. In their passing the worm grows fat, the vulture weary,’ I said, quoting the Misery that was said to have been fulfilled here.
Teeth chattering, head against their keens, Squire Belum said, “What does it mean, hermit?”
I shrugged as Not Bad, Strong and Tough all gathered around the fire’s warmth. “Undead? Some flying, some crawling, perhaps?”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Belum had fallen asleep and I shivered, doing my best to stay awake.
RANDOM ENCOUNTER
2 CHILD SAVIOR
3 - 6 (1D4) CULTISTS
7 MISERY SCHOLAR
8-11 (1D6) CRAWLING DEAD
12 WINGED SPECTRE
+1 FOR NOISE, DEATH, FIRE, MAGIC (CULMULATIVE)
2D6+2
9, 1 CRAWLING DEAD
CRAWLING DEAD
HP 6
MORALE -
REND D2
MOVEMENT IS SLOW WITH ONE, OFTEN SURPRISING BURST OF SPEED ONCE PER ENCOUNTER
Later we’d suss out that the drowned body we had found while rowing in had washed up on the shore and the Misery’s fell power had turned it into one of the Crawling Dead. We were awakened by Not Bad screaming and the smell of the drowned undead attacking us as surely as its claws.
TEST VS DROWNED UNDEAD SMELL, DR 14
NOT BAD, 14, PASSED
TOUGH, 4, FAILED
STRONG, 4, FAILED
BELUM, 5, FAILED
VRAKH, 14, PASSED
INITIATIVE, 3, ENEMIES BEGIN
Everyone but me and Not Bad were dry heaving at the scent. The beast clawed at me, pieces of finger breaking off against my armor.
CRAWLING DEAD, 2, MISS
VRAKH, 15, HIT
7 DAMAGE
I took my sword out and plunged the point into its soft skull. I’d like to say it was somehow heroic but it was far from it. I dragged the corpse, still attached to my sword to the surf and washed the drowned sailor off the blade. When I got back to the fire, Belum was getting the last of the pools of vomit away from our makeshift camp.
“There’s the crawling undead you had guessed at,” Belum said, trying to foul taste from their mouth.
NOISE, RANDOM ENCOUNTER ROLL, 1D6
-1 FOR NOISE
-1 FOR FIRE
4-2=2
NO ENCOUNTER
“Maybe we should make our way to the Hellfort and not wait to be dry and rested,” I suggested.
Belum shrugged and gestured for me to lead the way.
TRAVELING AT NIGHT INVOKES 2 RANDOM ENCOUNTER CHANCES
6, NO.
1, YES.
12, THE WINGED SPECTRE.
WINGED SPECTRE
HP15
MORALE -
UNDERWORLD’S BEST BONES: -D2
STRIKE: D6+2, BLACK KEY
FIST: D6
STEALS BREATH: D2 POSITIVE STATS FOR FIGHT’S LENGTH, TURNED INTO BLACK DIAMOND ONCE ALL POSITIVE STATS ARE TAKEN, ALL STATS REACH 0 OR LESS, BECOMES CRAWLING DEAD
CAPTURED, 400s
SKULL, 100s
WINGS, 200s