On the Western Front (Part 4 - The Prisoners)

The company found a sheltered, defensible place, near a muddy pool in a gully shaded by trees. Within a few hours, Phubi recovered from the witchdoctor’s hex. Likewise, the sohei had tended to the minor wounds they had received in their skirmishes with the gnolls. Gin Jo and Bayan discussed what they had seen and concluded that the leaders of the gnoll band had been isolated in their towers and that the rest of band was poorly organized; they should mount another raid that afternoon before their enemies had a chance to recover.

The company approached the settlement from the south, and once again made their way for the bridges, curious to see what the gnolls were doing to repair the damage. They encountered no resistance until they reached the bridge, whereupon teams of archers emerged from several tents at once. Finding the odds against them Ginjo ordered a retreat along the rim of the canyon, with instructions to regroup on the scrub-covered mountain where they’d been led by the nomads the day before. Bayan meanwhile, lingered to guard the retreat, trusting to her well-made armor to deflect the gnolls’ arrows.

While the gnolls, by pure numbers, were successful in driving the company out of their village, they did so at great expense. Those who sought to cut-off the company’s escape were cut down and their fellows put to flight. In the ensuing chaos, a few human captives escaped from one of the huts and joined the company in escaping to the scrub-covered mountain.

The company spent the night on mountain, taking turns watching for any attack by the gnolls and also keeping an eye on the rescued prisoners, who seemed to be exactly what they claimed to be. They were three men, dressed in rags, well-built, but poorly-nourished. Their hands and their unshod feet were calloused and bloody. They slept heavy and huddled closely together on the rocky ground.

In the morning, the rescued captives shared their story. All three had worked as caravan drovers, captured by the gnolls in the past several weeks. The gnolls had attacked with ferocity and guile, targeting certain camels, and cutting them off from the rest of the caravan. They each believed that their own capture was a result only of having the misfortune of being near to the targeted cargo. But they knew that their fate, if they had not been rescued, would have been grim. None of the other slaves had been there more than a few months; those who weren’t worked death were intentionally sacrificed in the most gruesome ways imaginable. Likely they were planning a major sacrifice now, following the humiliation they had experienced at the hands of Ginjo and Bayan. “They told us that Red Mane was so powerful that even the human chiefs gave him tribute and no one would dare to try to rescue us.”

When pressed, the captives said that, yes they had been visited once by a group wealthy humans, a well-armed caravan that came to purchase the goods stolen from others. One of the rescued captives, had been offered, along with two captive women, for the human men to take as slaves. “The merchants laughed, and said no because we were already ruined and would smell like gnoll.”

After saying these words, the captive, whose name was Ahmed, settled the question that had been on everyone’s mind. He was afraid, and he longed to be reunited with his family, but he wanted to rescue the other captives or die trying. Impressed by his courage, Ginjo and Bayan agreed to lead a rescue attempt.

They asked Ibrahim, the youngest of captives to stay behind on the mountain. If the rescue ended in disaster, there should be someone left who might be able to take the news back to Al-Fitar.

With the advice of the captives, the company made a plan to enter the village from the south in late morning, when most of the gnolls were typically sleeping; they would approach with stealth if possible and use the huts as cover against archer fire. Once inside the village, the captives would lead the way to the two huts where the other captives were being held. The freed captives were eager to fight if necessary, and thus were provided with daggers. Ahmed offered that once the other captives were free, he would show the company where the stolen caravan goods were stored.

The company entered the village according to plan. Phubi called on divine assistance in overcoming a sentry post on the edge of the village and they made their way into the village. They found the first of the two captive huts, and freed them from their bonds. The second captive hut was guarded by two gnolls. The first was killed, but the other escaped, and began raising the alarm. A fearsome howling arose from the towers. On the eastern tower, several archers emerged on the roof. From the western tower, multiple witchdoctors emerged and began chanting.

Ginjo, Irak and Saw, together with the already freed captives, set about freeing the captives of the second hut, while Bayan and Minh led the other sohei in meeting the gnoll defense within the village. They charged a mob of javelin-armed gnolls with their swords drawn. With this charge, the mob of skirmishers were scattered like birds and Ginjo used this opportunity to reach the stoutly-built hut used to store the stolen trade goods. The gnolls on guard outside the storehouse abandoned their post and Saw battered the door open.

Bayan and Minh contended with the gnolls’ efforts to re-group in the village, while avoiding any attacks from the towers. Isolated gnoll archers fired wild shots from the darkness of their huts, while several heavily-armored warriors made a steady approach. Minh ordered the sohei to retreat to the storage hut while she and Bayan fought the gnoll warriors.

Minh and Bayan allowed the warriors to approach while backing away, picking their path carefully to keep out of sight of the gnolls in the towers. Minh stopped occasionally to shoot at the warriors with her crossbow from behind cover while Bayan, with her sword out, taunted them, daring one of them and then another, to try her.

Finally one did. He was hit in the shoulder by a crossbow bolt, but kept charging only to be stabbed through the heart by Bayan’s sword. A second one charged and suffered a similar fate. And then the last three warriors charged at once. Bayan stayed light on her feet, slashing at one warrior and then another, luring a third to showing his back to Minh who shot him in the back.

Ginjo called out from the storage hut. With the help of the freed captives, he had recovered a large amount of valuable trade goods, including several pairs of ridiculously elegant riding boots. It was now time to escape. Bayan rained a barrage of blows on the largest of the gnoll warriors attacking her, forcing him to the ground, and then turned and ran to join the rest of the company. Minh fired a last crossbow bolt and ran with her. The gnoll warriors did not pursue except to hurl their spears. One of the spears hit Bayan in the back; she tumbled, but it did not fully pierce her armor. Minh helped her to her feet and they followed Ginjo and leading the charge out of the village. They did not meet any sustained resistance.

The company visited the scrubby mountain only long enough to retrieve Ibrahim and then made their way back toward the canyon road. The way was hard, especially for the weak and hungry captives, and they were forced to camp in the wilderness.

Ginjo woke early the next morning and, allowing the other captives the benefit of a full night’s rest, examined the goods he’d recovered from the gnolls. There were weapons, medicine, and blocks of salt, as well as fine clothing and other luxuries. He also found a book, written in a mixture of bakemono and Ori, that seemed to record all of the goods that had been stolen and whether they had been claimed by Red Mane or sold to human merchants. For the goods that had been sold, the merchants were named and described. Ginjo studied this information carefully and shared it with Bayan, but none of the names or descriptions were familiar to either one of them. Nevertheless, they agreed that this information would be very valuable to Al-Fitar and that they should most definitely return to his camp rather than Salt Springs.

On the Western Front (Part 3 - The Needles)

Al-Fitar congratulated Bayan and Ginjo on their success in capturing the gnoll prisoners. The prisoners had little information to share except that their chief was named Red Mane and he had great power and that his revenge would be terrible.

Despite this warning, there was no revenge. In the ensuing weeks, merchants arrived every day at Al-Fitar’s camp, bring much needed supplies. Al-Fitar could give his full attention to thwarting the invasion of the Master’s armies. His teams of skirmishers sabotages the Master’s juggernauts, and were always well-supplied with plenty of arrows, strong horses, and heart meals when they returned to camp.

This happy situation was not to last. One night, a half-dead man crawled into camp in the middle of the night. He was a drover from a large caravan that had been carrying grain, weapons, and medicine; they had been victims of a gnoll attack less five leagues away. The attackers had killed or captured the rest of the caravan, and tossed him into a deep pit as a “joke.” All of the cargo had been stollen or destroyed.

Bayan and Ginjo rallied their friends, and with Al-Fitar’s blessing, set out the next day. The journey was uneasy, but after two days of furtive travel, they encountered a group of nomads, who promised they could safely guide the party to Salt Spring. Their demands were reasonable and an agreement was soon reached.

The next day, after learning that the adventurers were keen to end the gnoll menace, the nomads proposed a new destination. For an additional fee, they would show the way to The Needles—the rock formation that served as a fortress for Red Mane, the gnoll chieftain. Again, the fee proposed for this dangerous journey was very reasonable and the party agreed.

After another day’s travel they reached the ford and from there the nomads followed the tributary stream into the mountains. They traveled all of that day and part of the next before starting their climb of a gently sloping mountain covered with scrub. Reaching a suitable height on this mountain, the nomads pointed into the distance, indicating a small canyon about a mile away. Two narrow buttes rose from the floor of the canyon, each capped with structures of red sandstone. With the nomads’ assistance, the party could see the rope bridge that connected the two natural towers to each other and the additional bridges that connect each butte to a village of about a dozen huts on the south rim of the canyon. In the village, movement could be detected—figures going between crude huts, some of these hits showing the smoke of cooking fires.

Sensing that the party intended to raid the gnoll settlement, the nomads declared their refusal to be associated with such a plan and begged to be allowed enough time to remove themselves to a safe distance. The party agreed that they would not raid the gnolls until morning, giving the nomads several hours of daylight to escape.

Ginjo and Bayan used their time to watch the village and settle upon a plan. They decided that their chief objective would be more information, while also disrupting the Red Mane’s authority within the village. With this objective, they would avoid combat if possible, instead seeking to destroy the bridges connecting the village on the rim to the two towers. They noted places where sentries were posted, and decided that rather than fighting or bluffing, they would simply try to avoid them.

Early in the morning, the party descended from their lookout point and approached the village from the southwest, choosing a route by which huge boulder obscured them from the view of the inattentive sentries. The village was quiet and the huts were so closely packed together that the party was able to use them as cover as they moved toward the bridge.

A very old gnoll warrior, decrepit, but also “decorated” (by gruesome trophies), emerged from his hut and began threatening them. Ginjo, who was fluent in bakemono, understood that the old gnoll was calling them slaves and ordering them back to work. Bayan responded by loading her sling and hurling a stone that hit the gnoll square in the forehead. A crowd of other gnolls warriors emerged from a nearby hut just as the old gnoll toppled to the ground. Cheering and jeering, they dashed to pick up his body and carry him back into their hut, fighting each other to see who could hold his head the highest.

Shrugging off this bizarre display, the party continued their way to the first bridge. This one was surrounded by several crudely-carved wooden idols, but was otherwise unguarded. The ropes were severed and the bridge collapsed with large crash as it slammed against the butte on the opposite side and its planks tumbled into the ravine. The party moved along the rim to the next bridge. As they reached it, archers from the roof of the second tower began shooting at them. Irak and Saw returned fire and Phubi called our for divine assistance. Her prayers were answered; the rooftop gnolls were transfixed. However, as Ginjo and Saw completed their vandalism of the second bridge, a circle of gnoll witchdoctors emerged from the first tower. They cast a curse on Phubi; she was struck down, foaming at the mouth and unable to move. Terrified at the thought of harm coming to his niece, Ginjo ordered an immediate retreat. Saw lifted the transfixed Phubi and Ginjo led the charge due south out of the village. At the sentry post, the sentries, released a pair of hyenas to attack the party and fled. Bayan and Ginjo struck down the hyenas and the party completed their escape.

On the Western Front (Part 2)

 In Salt Spring, Bayan and Ginjo were granted an audience with the local satrap, His Wisdom, Pasha Hari Abubakka. The Pasha maintained Salt Spring as a secure oasis and caravanserai for merchants, and he "refused to tolerate" the disruption of essential trade routes by vicious bandits. He was particularly distressed by the bandits peculiar success in targeting caravans with the most valuable cargo. But he had many other affairs to attnd to . . .

He offered a reward for useful information and a more substantial reward for the heads of any malefactors. In the meantime, he offered the part a small suite of rooms in his palace and encouraged them to speak to his most trusted advisor and Salt Spring's minister for commerce, the merchant Hiram Parth.

Hiram Parth invited the party to tea at his house and showed them a hospitable afternoon but had little information to share. The bandits were a band of Gnolls, a type of bakemono or beastmen, that were larger than humans with hyena-like features. The party asked whether they could meet anyone who had survived a gnoll attack. Hiram agreed that was a useful idea and promised to do his best. "But you must remember, caravan workers are not stable, honorable men.  They drift from one place to another, chasing money to feed their vices for the day, but with no thought for the future."

Over the next few days, the party lounged in the taverns of the caravanners quarter, making the acquaintances of guards and drovers. All had heard about the attacks in the Painted Canyon, agreeing that none would work that route unless they were paid premium wages. and that the ford was the most dangerous place on the route. But none offered first-hand information.

Within a few days, the Pasha, through a minor advisor, expressed his frustration with the party's tarrying in Salt Springs. And they did not have any new information from Hiram. So the party decided to head out and search for their own information in the Canyon.

Based on information they'd heard in Salt Sping, the party made their way to the ford, and then followed a tributary up into the hills south of the canyon. Along the way, Ginjo was able to find debris indicating that others had traveled before them though there was nothing to indicate whether the tracks and bits of charred wood and broken weapons had been discarded by gnolls or men.

In time, the party reached a high plateau and a well-traveled track. While making their camp along the track, the party was alerted by the sounds of excited yelling about a hundred yards away. This was a band of gnoll hunters, including several young.  Gnoll archers fired a volley of arrows at the party while the most fearsome warriors brandished their long spears and charged, fanning out to cut off any escape.

But the party was more than prepared for this attack. Phubi invoked divine aid in thwarting the gnoll archers who were struck down to the ground. Bayan and Ginjo, along with the warrior monks met the attacks of the charging warriors and cut them down.  The few survivors gathered their young and fled. The party allowed them to escape, but took several captives among the gnolls who had been wounded or struck down by Phubi's god. 

What to do witht he captives? A reward had been promised in Salt Springs. Gin-jo and Bayan acknowledged to each other vague antipathy regarding both the Pasha and Hiram. Given this, and their reluctance to see their pitiful captive executed in exchange for a bounty, the party decided they should instead deliver the captives to Al-Fitar. 

On the Western Front (Part 1)

On the Western Front, Al-Fitar was managing a successful guerrilla campaign to slow the advance of the Master's armies. And needing some help, he called on Bayan, protege of his friend Beatriss and Gin-Jo, a mysterious wanderer who had lived among the beastmen and learned their language and customs. Playing D&D with Stuffed Animals: Homecoming Part 9 (Finale and a new beginning) (dndstuffedanimals.blogspot.com)

There was a problem with his supply chain. For weeks, the armies of the Master had been slowly advancing toward the realms of Or; and for weeks Al-Fitar’s much smaller, more nimble forces had been harrying this advance, giving the people of Or time to harvest their crops, secure their possessions, and move their families to safety. Al-Fitar’s efforts, in turn, depended, in turn, on a relatively small corps of merchants who, often at risk of their lives, supplied Al-Fitar with provisions, weapons, and medicine. And it was this last category of item that was too often not getting through, too often getting “lost” in the Painted Canyon, a natural labyrinth of red sandstone, by which the merchant caravans made their way to Al-Fitar’s supply depot from Salt Springs, a prosperous oasis under the authority of the neutral Satrapy that had negotiated a private neutrality pact with the Master. Bandits, of course, were the most likely explanation, but it was strange that bandits would be so lucky in attacking the caravans with the most valuable cargo. Even more strange that these bandits wouldn’t seek to maximize their profit by selling their ill-gotten gains to Al-Fitar. (“Though perhaps my reputation for honor dissuades them.”)

Al-Fitar would not give the Master an excuse to overrun Salt Springs by sending his soldiers to commandeer the depot or confront the Satrap. But he would encourage a small group of brave "civilians" who were concerned about the free flow of commercial activity to visit Salt Springs and offer to the Satrap whatever help he requested.

Gin-Jo and Sukh had spent two years with the armies of Al-Fitar, ever since escaping from the valley of the Hatukaan. During that time, Gin-Jo had made the acquaintance of Bayan, being much impressed with her authoritative demeanor and martial skills. Sukh and Bayan, however for whatever reason found many points of disagreement, and developed a mutual dislike that made it difficult for them to be within each other's sight. As a result, Sukh declined the offer to participate in Al-Fitar's mission.

 

Gin-Jo, his niece Phubi, and Bayan, together with her friend Minh and a few sohei set out for Salt Springs. Thanks to the help of a group of nomads, they navigated the difficult trip through the Painted Canyon.  They followed the course of a narrow river for three days, then camped at a ford where the river was joined by a major tributary. That night, they were awakened by a mysterious howling, which echoed through the canyon, obscuring its source. As soon as dawn broke, the travelers were ready to move on; pressing hard, they reached Salt Springs as the sun was setting.

Taking the Fight Home to the Master

After a short season of rest and a long season of starting to set things in order within Banua and the lands of the Naran horde, Bo Jing realized that he was approaching an important decision, and invited his closest friends to join him in consultation regarding what to do about The Master.  His invitation was answered by a diverse number: Salt, Tetsukichi, Bangqiu, Hyamsam, and Nar Nuteng—though the warrior maiden refused to participate when she learned that the outlandish sorceress (Salt) had also been included.

They all agreed that The Master was unrelenting in his attacks on the Empire.  Defeating the beastmen had not undone the damage they had done to the lands of the Five Fires. Khazad Kala had been destroyed and the great of lake of Kala polluted with ash.  The lands once belonging to Nergui horde had been scoured. The clans of the worm and eagle had also suffered losses.  And the people of trees, based on Bo Jing’s expedition had proved to be illusory allies at best.  Remnants of the beast cult lurked in tombs and caves, sometimes attacking small clans and stealing lifestock. The proud warriors of the Naran horde had stood up to the beastmen, but even Banua was in need of rebuilding.  The Master’s armies, based on what they had seen in Paranyama, would sweep through the Lands of the Five Fires without serious impediment.

But, based on Ryu’s research in the Monastery, they could take the fight to The Master.  They had maps, information about his strange mountain kingdom and the “Temple of Death” that lay at the heart of it.  If they could bypass his armies and engage him directly, they would likely prevail.  All chronicles escribed him as godlike figure within his realm, with a lifetime that had already spanned centuries, and no plan for succession, no system of government beyond his personal edicts.

Bo-Jing asked Batu, a baghatur from the Worm Clan who had joined his household,  to govern Banua in his absence, exhorting him to call on the Khatun Narantsetseg for all matters affecting the Naran horde, referring him to his own kinsmen for issues that would affect the lands of the five fires, and advising that --if things became so dire that he believed he should warn the governor of Blue City or the Emperor-- he should also send a messenger to Beatriss in Happy Valley.

Following the maps they’d discovered, the company traveled north into the mountains that marked both the extent of the lands of the five fires and the furthest reach of the Empire.  It was summer, and the mountain meadows provided for an easy journey with moderate weather, an abundance of wild fruit and small game, and countless streams of clean water, many brimming with fish.

After nearly a month of travel, the Company reached Hunza, the realm of The Master.  Ryu had warned them, based on his research, that it would be a strange place.  The Master’s edicts prescribed modes of dress and what people were allowed to eat and drink.  When to wake up and when to sleep.  No gods were worshipped as people were instructed to trust the Knowledge of The Master in all things. The existence of other civilizations outside its borders were barely acknowledged-- except as sources of dangerous misinformation that could dissuade the weak-minded from trusting the Knowledge—and, more practically as the places where the pursuit of Active Defense Knowledge demanded a steady supply of sending food, ore, able-bodied young men, and other resources.

All of these things seemed very much true.  And yet, Hunza was not the miserable place they imagined.  The people they met recognized the Company as outsiders and congratulated them on finding their way to the land of freedom.  They shared food and helpful information.  Conversations often turned to informal exams regarding current Knowledge, with the most Knowledge citizens instructing the half-ignorant who, in turn, instructed the foreigners.  While unusual, these instructive conversations had a tone of levity about them made the Knowledge seem more and more palatable.  When they were alone, the Company made a point of reminding each other of their own experiences with The Master and the horrible things that his armies had done. And also how strange it was to hear people speak of their lost sons without any bitterness.  For as a rule, the pursuit of Active Defense Knowledge seemed to be a lifeterm commitment.

As the Company moved from the fields and forests of Hunza into its larger settlements, their tour became more complicated. The citizens were less friendly, and their questions about the Knowledge more like test with real consequences.  In was in a small, orderly market town that the company first encountered Guardians of the Knowledge, a group of men and women wearing layered robes whose questions were less about The Knowledge and more about the company’s reasons for being there.  Where they came from.  Which way did they travel.  Who sent them.

Bangqiu, relying on his magic ring was able to persuade the Guardians that they were nothing more than lost travelers. The Guardians, still skeptical, sent them to a House of Welcome.  After making a show of following the Guardians advice, the Company fled the town and continued their travel.  They spent the rest of the day in the forest, and then traveled at night, with Bangqiu and Hyamsam scouting the way in bird form.

Despite their best efforts, the party was surprised in camp by a single young man, wearing a tattered and soiled Guardians robe.  “They know you’re here,” he said.  “They’ve been following you.  And if you continue the way I think you’re going, then you’re headed for an ambush.”

A tense conversation followed-- with deep distrust, tempered by respect—on both sides. And in time, both sides admitted a common understanding of the truth about the Master and Hunza.  And also a shared understanding of what to do about it, but with one sticking point. “I want to be there when you kill him.  You have to take me with you.”

The young man’s name was Hu-Fei.  He was clearly brave, and in a manner capable.  But he carried no weapon and seemed nearly incapable of using one.

Brave, generally capable.  A good start. Also stubborn. That won the day. “Your old map won’t show you the secret route to the Master’s Temple. I will.”

Once they had accepted Hu-Fei’s help, the young man was eager to gain their full acceptance.  By his “connections” in the towns, he was able to find them horses and provisions that made their travel through Hunza feel like a pleasure jaunt once again.

They allowed him to show them his secret route, which would involve passing though a series of underground caverns and mountain passes.  The entrance, he warned them, was guarded by a group of die-hard soldiers, who had the unusual distinction of being sent to fight in foreign lands and returned alive.

The Unforgotten Monks of the Lead Coins (Part 4)

 

The next day, Bangqiu announced his plans to leave. But the others prevailed, arguing that after another day’s rest, all would be fit to travel.  They stayed in the guest house the entire day.  When the monks visited, they asked about any strange occurrences in the night. Bo-Jing responded with cold suspicion that soon turned to hostility.  The monks confessed that the monastery was “under a curse” and that the source seemed to be the disused blacksmith’s shed.  Bo-Jing shrugged off this explanation and asked to be left alone.  Bangqiu, in secret, visited the blacksmith’s shed and found it to be unnaturally cold.  He shared this information with the others; all agreed that even with this verification of one detail in the monks’ story, they were entitled to little trust.

That night, the company barricaded all entrances to the guest the house—the front door, the door to the chapel, and the secret passage from the chapel to the main house.  Several hours after dark, there was a loud banging from the front door.  Peering from a window, Nekhil spotted one of the horrible monsters that Bo-Jing had dueled in the chapel the night before.  Reasoning that they were much better prepared and had a clear advantage of numbers, they made a plan to let the monster in and capture it, or failing that, kill it.  Bo-Jing stood back some distance from the door and the other warriors prepared a gauntlet on either side of the entry corridor.  Ryu, Bangqiu, Salt stayed out of sight but nearby and ready to help where needed.  Bo-Jing gave the signal and Nekhil opened the door, stepping out of the way as the monster rushed into the waiting spears and swords.  It was grievously wounded and Bo-Jing readied to overpower it. 

But then there was a terrible shriek from another part of the house, then another and another, and within moments, a small horde of monsters attacked the company from all angles.  Bo-Jing left the wounded monster to Nekhil as he turned to face the new enemies.  Their plan ruined, each of the warriors was forced to fight for his own life, with Bo-Jing taking on two of the monsters at once.  Salt and Bangqiu blasted the monsters with magic missiles and then retreated, goading several of the monsters to pursue.  Having drawn the monsters away from their companions, the two wu jen turned and blasted them with their most potent and explosive magic, destroying them in a burst of fire and steam.

The monsters’ numbers, cut in half, the warriors regrouped and improved their tactics, fighting one or two monsters at a time in a narrow part of the corridor.  As one warrior tired, Ryu pulled him (under protest) to safety as another took his place so that Bo-Jing always had a companion to protect his weak side and to assist in flanking the fearsome monsters.  They fought with abandon, seemingly eager to kill or be killed with almost equal measure, shrieking as they trampled over their fallen comrades.  Concluding that they were undead beings, Ryu through a jar of holy water at them. It smashed on the stones, splashing water on the monsters; the hems of their robes disintegrated and their flesh steamed and burned.  Only then did the monsters attempt to flee; the warriors pursued and cut them down.

When the last monster fell, Bo-Jing staggered a few paces away from the and sank to the floor.  Ryu issued him healing droughts and bandaged his wounds with poultices.  All had been slashed or bitten; they washed themselves thoroughly. Ryu volunteered that he would stand guard the whole night, and awaken the others at the first sign of any trouble.

The night passed without incident and, in the morning, the two monks they’d gotten to know knocked at the door.  “We hope no one was disturbed b the curse last night.”

Bo Jing demanded that the monks produce some holy water.  The monks nodded, went away for several minutes and returned with a brass bowl filled with water.  With some amusement, they followed Bo-Jing’s directions to dip their fingers in the bowl, then to pour someone their robes, then to pour some on their feet, then to drink it.  In all of these demonstrations, the water interacted with the monks in the same way that ordinary water would interact with an ordinary person.  When the water was exhausted Bo-Jing thanked the monks and Salt explained that they had been attacked in the night by undead monsters.  And asked the monks if they could bring some more holy water to cleanse the house.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Ryu was performing a ritual to prepare his own holy water.  And by the time the monks returned, each carrying a larger brass vessel, Ryu’s holy water was ready.  He splashed the water on one of the mons; he was affected the same way as the monsters in the night.  Both monks ran away screaming and both were killed by Bo-Jing and is warriors.

The company rested and were not disturbed by monks in the day nor monsters at night.  Over the next few days, they explored the monastery, discovering that most of it had fallen into disuse.  The dormitory, the training rooms, and the meditation room all showed signs of being inhabited by bloodthirsty monsters.  The stable was empty.  The company’s poor horses had been killed and mainly eaten.

There was also a library, seemingly untouched for many years.  Monks had lived there were centuries and there had been good times and bad times.  A time when one of the monks convinced the others that he had achieved a greater enlightened, forever changing their previously pure egalitarianism.  The more recent chronicles described the debates about creating gold coins in order to complete a special building project.  Many monks had left, but the abbot had reluctantly sided with the “gold” faction.  The project continued and was completed.  This seemed to be the time that Gaansukh remembered from when he was a boy.

The need for labor brought in workers from far away.  A group of these workers expressed an interest in joining the order, and this seemed a natural decision to replace those whom had departed during the debate over worldly riches.  These new initiates showed a strange zeal far outstripped their understanding.  They displayed very unenlightened behavior, one night feasting on the cow that the monks kept for milk.  The older monks slowly departed, often without explanation.  Before long, the abbot lost control of the monastery, but nevertheless remained, wanting to believe the new monks could benefit from better instruction.

Because the chronicles made repeated references to a crypt, company decided to search the monastery more thoroughly and discover what may lay beneath.  They found a trapdoor in the monks’ house that led to a network of tunnels.  They found an exit to the outside on the far side of the ridge.  They found a trapdoor leading into the guesthouse.  They encountered and fought strange, tentacled vermin.

And, in a little dungeon cell, they found an old man in tattered robes, chained to the wall.  He responded to the party with wary defiance.  Though he answered Bo-Jing’s theological riddles with acuity, he refused to answer any of their more temporal questions (“Who are you?”  “What’s down here?”) until he had been freed and brought outside.  Relying on wisdom he had garnered in the library, Bo-Jing agreed.

The old man blinked in late afternoon light and took a long deep breath.  After receiving food and water, he moved some distance away from the company, keeping them in sight while also demanding that they come no closer.

The sun set, it became dark and cold and the old man broke down in tears.  He called Bo-Jing and the others to him, embracing them, ruffling their hair and kissing their cheeks.  “You are not monsters!  You are not monsters!”

The next morning, the man explained that he was Rabban Bar Ṣawma, the last abbot of the monks of the way of the light.  “But not the last monk!  There will be others, maybe one of you?”

Though none of the company wished to enter the monastic life, they heartily agreed to give him whatever material assistance he needed. 

The company stayed several more days, resting, and ensuring that Rabban Ṣawma was safe.  He responded well to daylight and fresh air; with every day he appeared a year younger.  After a couple weeks, they had no misgivings about leaving him behind when they returned to Banua.

As the company prepared to take their leave, Rabban Sawma embraced each of them. In bidding farewell to Bo Jing, he pressed a coin into his palm.  Bo Jing knew what it was, and confirmed his intuition when he reached the bottom of the cliff. The reddish gold coin of the King of the North.  The last of the four coins.  And the source of the monks’ sudden wealth, some twenty years before.  For it had the power to turn coins of lead—or any other base metal into gold.  Awed by this power and with the lesson of the monks’ downfall in his mind, Bo Jing resolved to conserve its power.  He would live as he always did.  And when he traveled, we would carry only lead coins, turning one or two into gold as needed.

The Unfortten Monks of the Lead Coins (Part 3)

Banqiu, Salt, and Bo-Jing concluded unanimously and immediately that because the temple was forbidden to outsiders, they should explore it in secret. And because they all had the means to become invisible through the aid of magic, they decided they would explore it immediately, leaving their associates behind in the guest house.

The temple gate was unlocked and unguarded. They passed through an overgrown garden where a monkey was chained to a small tree and into the towering structure of the temple itself. The floors squeaked under their feet, and they made their way hurriedly through the entryway and into the main altar room.

Upon doing so, Bo-Jing realized that his friends had fallen under some kind of curse. They yelled out in confusion, and ran hurriedly through the temple room, bumping into pillars. The three monks in the room called out to them, asking them to show themselves. Bo-Jing said nothing, but followed his friends by their footsteps, and whispering their names when he got closer to them.

The three invisible explorers, bumbled through the temple and its many side chambers, the monks following close behind. And then Bangqiu stumbled into the private chambers of the abbot, a room bedecked with a great number of wicked-looking idols, many of them stained with blood. Shocked by the horrific sight, he began to regain his senses and called out to Bo-Jing for assistance. Salt, likewise intuited that the monks franticly pursuing her were less trustworthy than the still invisible, but calm-voiced Bo-Jing. He promised that if she would hold onto him, he would lead her to safety. Risking the attention of the monks, he called out to Bangqiu in the strange tongue they had learned in Maztica, and made a plan to flee together. Dodging, the monks and the abbot, the three adventurers retraced their steps and ran out of the temple and back to the guesthouse.

Back in the guest house, Bo-Jing removed his invisibility ring, and informed Ryu and the warriors what had happened. Ryu was able to perform an exorcism spell on Bangqiu. Bangqiu recovered his memory but was so exhausted that he retreated to his chambers to sleep. Bo-Jing ordered a guard and instructed Ryu to perform another exorcism. Ryu agreed, but he needed several hours to prepare the necessary incense and purify his own spirit. Salt, still unable to remember her name and history, nor able to stop being invisible, babbled to herself incessantly until Bo-Jing prepared her some rice. She ate greedily and then fell asleep. Nekhil announced that he would guard her while she slept.

Not long before sundown, there was a knock at the door. Bo-Jing answered the knock.

Two monks, the same pair they had met at the bottom of the stairs were standing there. They wanted to know if their guests were comfortable and if they were hungry. Bo-Jing replied that they were very comfortable and were preparing to retire early after having already eaten their own food. The monks shifted from one foot to the other and then asked if they heard anything strange coming from the temple.

“The temple? Aren’t outsiders forbidden from the temple?”

“Yes, but . . . there were some uninvited spirits there . . . and we want to make sure . . . maybe the spirits came to the guesthouse and have made your minds tired? Maybe we can help?”

Bo-Jing assured the monks that they were only tired from their journey and he looked forward to talking to them in the morning.

The monks wished Bo-Jing goodnight and departed. Bo-Jing closed the door, all but a crack. He watched the monks linger outside the door and then enter the guesthouse by another, previously obscured by a tattered banner and overgrown shrubbery.

Bo-Jing called for Batzorig to accompany him; together, they into the door where the monks had entered. They found a small chapel, warmly lit with glowing candles and adorned in a manner similar to the guesthouse and the rest of the monastery. There was no sign of the monks. Bo-Jing examined the symbols and paintings in the chapel and was comforted to see that they resembled the iconography of the lead coins rather than the abbot’s private shrine. And although the chapel was under the same roof as the guest guesthouse, there was no apparent between it and the rest of the structure.

Bo-Jing returned to his companions and decided to wake up Bangqiu. Still exhausted, the magician nevertheless understood that his special skills were required. Although he would need more rest to grasp his most powerful magic, he was eager to assist Bo-Jing in investigating the newly-discovered chapel.

Working together, the companions discovered that in fact one of the paintings had a moveable panel about halfway up the wall. And sure enough, moving the panel did permit access to the guesthouse itself. While debating whether to pass through this secret door or rush back to the main entrance to warn the others, a solitary hooded figure entered the chapel from the exterior door. This proved not to be a monk, but a wild-haired, fanged monster who rushed at them to attack. Bo-Jing, relying on his magic boots, levitated to safety while Bo-Jing engaged the monster. The brave baghatur allowed the monster to back him into a corner; when the monster lunged at him, Bo-Jing, ducked out of the way and then spun on his heels and drew his sword, pointing it at the monster’s throat. The monster hesitated. In the flickering light of the candles, Bo-Jing confirmed that the monster’s robes were of the same style and fabric as the monks. Despite its fangs and bloodshot eyes, something in its expression reminded him of one of the monks he’d encountered in the temple. Bo-Jing repeated one of the mantras he’d learned from Gaansukh. “Where is your heart? Where is your treasure?”

The monster snarled and lunged, impaling itself on the sword and slashing at Bo-JIngs face with its claws. Despite the horrific wound, it didn’t die. Licking Bo-Jing’s blood from its claws, it continued to attack with vigor. Bo-Jing stood his ground and cut with strength and precision. When Bo-Jing faltered for a moment, Bangqiu descended swiftly, striking the monster with the stone figurine of a dove. Bo-Jing recovered and, with a swift and mighty cut, severed one of the monster’s legs. It collapsed to the ground, and Bo-Jing next removed its head, finally killing it. Bo-Jing and Bangiu elected to go through the secret door and bar it from the inside.

Bangqiu returned to sleep. Ryu meditated next to Salt. Bo-Jing and the warriors separated into two groups, and searched the entire guesthouse, confirming there neither monks nor monsters were hiding in any of the rooms, or in the garden. Only then they rested. Except for Nekhil, who stood guard the whole night.