Wolfgang and the Rattling Bones

 

Vulpio, Mardiuw, Wolfgang, Gerrilynn, and Chickie, retreated with the elves deeper into the forest, and stayed there for several weeks. When the buds opened on the oak trees, the company returned once more to the Lake of Lost Dreams, and paddled to the island where they'd search out the crown of the elven prince.

The sought and discovered the ruined building where'd they found the statue, and descended underground by way. The halls below were quiet and empty.

And then they opened the iron door upon the chamber where the bones sprang to life. Gerrilyn raised her holy symbol. The front rank of skeletons turned away, impeding the charge of the others. Vulpio slammed the door and Mardiuw hammered a series of spikes to hold it closed.

And then, while the bones clattered against the door, the group made a plan. They hammered more spikes into the floor, a little distance from the door-- so that when the first spikes were removed, the door could be allowed to open I\just enough\I to let one skeleton at a time squeeze through.

Vulpio volunteered to stand in the breach, with Wolfgang standing behind him to destroy any skeletons that managed to force their way through. Vulpio swung his sword like a whirlwind, and the shattered bones and splintered shields piled up under his feet. He tired, and was knocked to the floor. As more skeletons pushed through trampling Vulpio underfoot, Gerrilyn once more raised her holy symbol and by the power of Raud drove them away. Mardiuw pulled Vulpio to safety, Wolfgang moved into the front rank and Chickie stood behind him. The skeletons charged again-- they were pulverized by Wolfgang's staff and laid low by Chickie's club. The pile of bones was so great that the spikes were knocked free and the door sprang open. The remnant of skeletons poured out. The party overcame them all and it was quiet, but Chickie was grievously wounded and Wolfgang exhausted to the point of delirium.

The group climbed back up the ladder, and returned to their boat. Halfway back to shore, they heard the telltale buzzing of the maverick pixies. With his last ounce of strength, Wolfgang framed their forms in purple light. Gerrilyn transfixed the pixies with a holy rebuke. Vulpio and Mardiuw shot them with arrows. They captured three living pixies and chased away the others.

The elves were heartened by the party's success in capturing the pixies. And Aemornion, after hearing the tale of their battle against two score living skeletons, expressed his confidence that they would persistently return until they discovered the lost crown.

Brief addendum: Wolfgang and Gerrilynn returned to the dungeon on the Island of Lost Dreams.  They fought and destroyed a pair of gargoyles.  In the process they shattered a dark mirror obsidian, breaking the curse on the pixies and revealing the entrance to the Maze of Nuromen.  They returned to the surface to be feted by the grateful pixies who were no longer corrupted by evil and hatred!

Beatriss's Apprentice Bayan

When Bayan was reassigned from her post as a lady-in-waiting to the harem, it was seen as a quiet demotion. She had never mastered the careful obedience expected in court. But the Emperor, noting her strong thighs and restless poise, saw something else. He offered her to Beatriss— an apprentice to be trained as an undercover guard.

Beatriss accepted the task with calm curiosity. She began with combat: footwork, unarmed throws, and the deceptively graceful techniques of Blackbird Style. Bayan was a fast learner—eager, focused, and already proud of her physical strength. Beatriss taught her how to use it without a blade, and how to make her touch as precise as a strike.

Beatriss trained her in martial technique, with an emphasis on unarmed combat. Bayan took quickly to the movements, learning to fight from a seated or reclining position and mastering efficient kicks and throws. Beatriss also introduced her to the subtler forms of control—how to carry herself, how to observe while being observed.

Adapting to the layered expectations of palace life was more challenging. Bayan’s first summons to a party in the Emperor’s chambers was a quiet disaster—not because of scandal, but because she didn’t know how to belong. The other women moved with practiced grace, their gestures part of a ceremony she hadn’t been trained for. Bayan stayed clothed, stiff, uncertain, preoccupied with the dagger concealed under her dress, as she had been prepared to protect, not perform.

She stood apart, unable to participate, unable to act, and unable to leave.

Afterward, in Beatriss's chamber, she turned to her teacher and said, not with shame but with resolve, “I
can’t be the only one who doesn’t fit.”

Beatriss nodded. In the days that followed, she began to train Bayan in Blackbird-style martial arts—a fighting style focused on balance, speed, and precision. “You shouldn’t need a weapon to be dangerous,” she told her. Bayan trained barefoot, learning how to move quietly, strike swiftly, and recover from falls with control and grace.

But Bayan wanted more. She asked Beatriss to teach her how to navigate courtly presence—the language of movement, posture, and stillness. The art of holding attention without speaking. Beatriss agreed, and their lessons became a blend of discipline and subtlety.

By the time Bayan was summoned again, she walked in with quiet confidence. “I am not shy at all,” she told Beatriss when she returned. Ironically, that was the problem. New arrivals were expected to be tentative. 

Beatriss requested an audience with the Emperor.

It was granted—but the meeting took place in the palace dungeon, not the audience hall. The Emperor waited in a stone chamber dimly lit by braziers, no guards visible, no formalities offered. A conversation, teasing and edged, questioning Beatriss about Bayan’s transformation.

Beatriss answered with performance and precision. She turned Bayan’s body toward him—presenting her balance, her poise, the latent power in her thighs. And while the Emperor watched, amused
, Beatriss scanned the shadows.

In one sudden motion, Beatriss stepped away from the light, seized a hidden man by the collar, tripped him with a sweep, and pressed her sword to his throat.

“You have many enemies, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said, cool and controlled.

The Emperor smiled, unshaken. “He’s one of mine,” he said. “Perhaps he misunderstood the dagger under the girl's dress.”

He praised Beatriss for her boldness and made his expectations clear: Bayan would continue training, in all disciplines—but if she were ever summoned again, she would play the part of a shy, silent observer.

They trained in secret, in forgotten courtyards and behind shuttered screens. Blackbird-style martial arts came first: grapples, throws, balance. Bayan learned to move with silence, to disappear into a fold of silk, to strike with her elbow while bowing.

Then came Cynadicean arts—more dangerous in their subtlety. How to breathe to draw attention, how to smile without surrender, how to beguile without being touched. Beatriss taught these reluctantly, always with a warning: “Power can be offered with a look—but never given away.”

By midyear, sword practice began. Bayan trained with both the katana and a short stabbing sword, one made for close quarters and palace walls. She practiced indoors and out, drilling until her knuckles bled, until her legs no longer trembled from the weight of her stance.

Beatriss tested her constantly. Sometimes in the middle of a ceremonial dance rehearsal—sword! Sometimes at night when Bayan thought she was alone—strike! Sometimes with whispered riddles during drills: If your master falls, who do you serve?

By late spring, Bayan could pin Beatriss in a clinch, disarm a guard without drawing blood, and speak three different meanings with a single gesture at court. Her thighs were strong, her arms lean, her back unbent.

The Emperor noticed, or seemed to. He had a new assignment.

One of the Emperor’s newest concubines,

Jiaohu, purchased from the Monastery of the Two-Fold Path, had come forward with a strange tale about a woman she had seen who looked like Beatriss: “The monks had another pale girl,” she whispered to the Khan. “Younger. Prettier. With strong thighs. They’re keeping her hidden—for someone more important than you.”

The Emperor was amused, then annoyed. He sent messengers with gold—thousands of taels—and received only a parade of forgettable girls. None of them Cynadicean.

When Beatriss was summoned, she listened without emotion as the Emperor described the monastery. Jiaohu, bold and smiling, repeated her tale. She even gave Beatriss a password—a phrase that would identify her as a friend to someone named Xing, a prisoner still within the monastery, who could lead them to the girl called Ciuciu.

The Emperor’s offer was clear: Find this girl, and I will release you. You may build your castle in the south.

Beatriss did not agree immediately. She returned to her rooms, sat with Bayan, and said nothing for a long time. Then she stood.

“Get your sword,” she said. “We may have to fight some monks.”

Wolfgang and the Lake of Lost Dreams

Having spent most of his money, Vulpio gave up his room at Gold Hill Inn and took to sleeping rough, hunting his food in the surrounding forest. One day in the gray light of dawn, hews roused by the sounds of whinnying horses and then solemnly musical voices. A group of elves explained that they sought his assistance. Something of theirs had been stolen, and although they knew where it could be found— on an island in the Lake of Lost Dreams— strong magic prevented the fey races from landing on it. Vulpio admired their fine mail shirts and their graceful horses. The elves promised one of each if he were successful. 

Vulpio convinced Mardiuw, one of the deputies of Gold Hill to join him in his quest and then went to Hommelet to seek out the assistance of his friends Wolfgang, Gerrilynn, and Chickie. Together, the party traveled to the Lake of Lost Dreams and met with the elves. The elves explained that they were looking for a bronze-and-silver statue—and maybe something else that they would describe if the party found the statue. The elves provided the party with two boats, and warned them that the island was inhabited by invisible beings that might seek to cause them harm. 

As the elves predicted, with no warning other than the sound of buzzing wings and an obnoxious cackle, the party was set upon by unseen foes. Wolfgang imbued them with a purple glow, making their general forms detectable—they were pixies, little people with wings like butterflies. Gerrilynn called on divine assistance to freeze two of the pixies in the air and drop them into the water while warning the others that they would suffer the same fate if they continued their attack. The other pixies swooped down to save their drowning comrades and flew away to the forest on the south side of the island.

The party turned their boat toward the north end of the island and landed in a thinly-wooded meadowland. Gleaming white marble stood out among the trees. At the white marble building, the party found both the missing statue and a ladder leading down into a dark hole.

The party returned to the shore of the lake with the statue, plus the news about the battle with the pixies and about the darkness beneath the marble ruins.

The elves gratefully welcomed the return of the stolen statue, rewarding the party with the promised treasure.

The elves were impressed that the party had driven off the pixies without killing any of them. They agreed that perhaps they could be rehabilitated and offered an additional reward for any pixies captured alive.

But the leader of this band of elves, Aemornion was most interested in what lay beneath the temple. He told the party of the human sorcerer who had lived on the island centuries ago. “The impatience and ambition that marks your kind once again followed magic into madness.” An elven prince visited the sorcerer, laden with gifts, hoping to persuade him that the arcane arts were best left to those whose lifespans allowed for deep mastery by slow accretion. But it was much too late. The sorcerer had already made another pact with darker powers. In the dungeons beneath his white marble palace, the sorcerer killed the elven prince and stole his crown.

The sorcerer’s demise, less than a year later, was wretched and complete. Most of his palace was destroyed, everything he owned—including everything he’d stolen— was sealed in the dungeons beneath, and the land itself became cursed.

Aemornion and his people hope to leave Alyan before the end of the next century, but not without the crown that had belonged to his brother.

Lareth's treasure

The day after the attack on Matopher's farm, a few of the younger sons-- Vlad, Dumetru, and Mihir went into Gold Hill to report their success and sell some cider.  Vlad convinced Dumetru to trade his silver dagger ("you don't really need it anymore") in exchange for a battle axe and the materials Vlad needed so he could repair and retrofit Lareth's plate mail armor for his own use.

A couple days later, Sir Miles, Chrono, Circe, and McDowell went out to the Matopher farm, interested in hearing more of the story and seeing where the battle had occurred.  Sir Miles, because of his oath to protect the White Queen was especially interested in hearing about what her part in it might have been.  While most of the family, including Matopher himself were satisfied that the old man's secret life work was complete, and that the evil replica of the ancient Queen had been destroyed.  Mihir believed otherwise.

But that was a question for another day.  There was a more immediate problem.  In his room at the inn, Lareth had left a shadow behind.

Vlad, Dumetru, and Mihir agreed to accompany the others back to Gold Hill to investigate.  Brau explained that during his stay at the inn, Lareth had politely requested that no one else enter his room.  When he stopped returning to the inn, she had barred the door, but now that he was dead and his true nature revealed, she wished to remove any trace of him.  But his room lay in permanent shadow.  Brau, standing in the doorway with a candle, showed the party how the candle's light did not extend more than a few feet into the room-- the rest lay in complete darkness.  She tossed the candle into the shadow and its light disappeared, even before they heard it hit the floor.

What's more, she had discovered another place of shadow.  There was an underground stream at the back of the inn, separating that part of the old mines that had been made habitable from whatever lay beyond.  There was a path along this stream that led to a half-forgotten storage area.  A second shadow blocked this path.

The party decided it was be less disruptive to deal with this shadow first.  McDowell prepared his rope and grappling hook and tossed the hook into the shadow, hoping to catch onto anything inside.  Something caught the rope and started pulling McDowell toward.

Without letting go of the rope, McDowell quickly backed away, letting out enough slack to avoid getting pulled into the shadow.  Sir Henry's sword began to get hot.  When drawn, it glowed with a hot white light.  As McDowell was backed into corner, Sir Henry leapt forward, slashing at the center of the shadow.  His blade struck something solid and then broke through it-- bone fragments and a gleaming white human skull exploded around the room accompanied by  the sound of clanging metal hitting the stone floor.  The shadow remained, though it no longer moved.

Vlad stepped into the shadow, and began tossing out the debris he found on the floor inside the shadow: lots more bones, a shield, fragments of armor.  And then something that seemed to be the source of the shadow-- a curved sword.  Though they couldn't seem it, it felt rusty and not especially sharp.  Vlad wrapped the sword in a sack and the shadow disappeared.

Encouraged by their success with the first shadow, the party went to Lareth's room to deal with the second.  Circe fired a magic missile into the core of the shadow, and then Sir Henry and Chronos charged in with their weapons.  They destroyed a second skeleton.  It too carried a rusty sword, but this was not the source of the shadow.  There was instead, a box.  Through trial and error, they discover that there was something in the mosaic lid of the box that was the source of the shadow.  They covered the lid so that McDowell could pick the lock on the box.  Inside the party found more treasure than they had ever owned, touched, or seen.  Silver serving pieces and goblets, an alabaster box, and a gold chain with fire opals.  After sharing out this treasure, they went to see what the other shadow might have been guarding.

Returning to the stream at the back of the inn, they followed the once-blocked path upstream to where it ended at a ford.  Crossing the stream, they found a rough natural cavern filled with junk.  A dim red light shone from a large hole on the opposite side of the room.  Vlad stepped closer to investigate.  The rest of the party saw the red light get brighter and then both Vlad and the light disappeared into darkness.  Moments later, two giant insects-- three-foot long beetles with glowing red heads, charged into the room, attacking them with their mandibles.  The darkness dissipated and the party could see Vlad, nearly overwhelmed by two more beetles and with his darkness sword returned to its sack. 

The beetles were fierce and fearless, but the party killed them all without suffering any serious wounds.  They climbed into the beetles lair, a noisome place.  Finding no way to continue their expedition, they searched the lair thoroughly.  Mixed in with pile of bones, Circe came upon a finely-wrought dagger of ancient design.  Although happy about the find, the party was nonetheless puzzled-- What was Lareth guarding with the second shadow-skeleton?  Could he even have known the dagger was there? 

After reporting to Brau on their success, the party enjoyed a delicious meal on the house.  Amid joking and boasting, they agreed that their treasures were worth more than anything in Gold Hill.  To learn their true value or anything else about them, they would need to seek out a larger settlement.

Silver Dagger Cider

When Wolfgang left Gold Hill, Lareth led the settlers in celebrating his departure.  A man who was friends with bears and wolves could not be a friend to his fellow man. The Constabulary added their cheers, fueled by a keg of ale paid for by the Head Constable himself.  Not everyone celebrated, but no one raised his voice to defend Wolfgang's reputation now that he was gone.

Lareth requested assistance from the Head Constable in seeking the tomb of the White Queen . . . and recovering her treasure on behalf of the Constabulary.  Of course the request was granted.  A sergeant and six deputies set out with Lareth for the peaks to the north.  None of them returned to Gold Hill.  A couple weeks later deputies from a local patrol returned with a terrible story-- as dusk fell they had been set upon by undead monsters, commanded by a man in black plate mail whose voice sounded like handsome Lareth's.  The attacking fiends were pale like corpses, but with burning eyes, and with twisted features that resembled those of their lost comrades.

Matopher, who owned the apple orchard up the road from Gold Hill trading post had long been known for the quality of his cider and for his many eccentricities.  He was often drunk, he had lots of children and grand children, he welcomed strangers onto his land and made them family, and he insisted that every grown person on his homestead carry and know how to use a weapon made of silver.

So, when Lareth and the wights attacked, Matopher and his family were ready.  It was late in the night, when those on watch heard sounds of attackers approaching.  Mihir, the pious brother, chanted a blessing of protection and raised his glowing holy symbol.  By its soft golden light, he and the watchers saw half a dozen figures charging up the road, a large man in black plate mail whispering curses from the rear.  Torches were lit, the women gather the children, and the men went to their battle stations.  The sentries drew their daggers to meet the undead fiends, but they were overcome by Lareth's spells.  Frozen in place, they were overrun by four wights.  Three of them did resemble deputies from Gold Hill, but the fourth, wearing long robes and draped with jewelry was identified as the White Queen.

Matopher's grandson Vlad, unlike most of his  brothers and cousins, did not carry a silver dagger, but a crossbow loaded with silver arrows.  His aim was steady and as Lareth surveyed the destruction he had wrought, Vlad shot and killed one of the wights.

As the Matopher clan roused from slumber, they organized themselves into a counter-sortie, led by brave Dumtiru.  They focused their on the White Queen.  She was a fearsome opponent.  Her touch was deadly and more of the sons and daughters of Matopher lay at her feet before she herself was destroyed.

Vlad, joined by two of his cousins who also carried crossbows, killed the other lesser wights.  Lareth saw that his fortunes had changed and threw down his shield to flee.  He used his magic to dissuade those who pursued him, but he could not deflect the arrow that hit him in the back of the leg.  He stumbled and, before he could rise again, was hit by two more arrows.

The Matopher clan blessed the bodies of their fallen brothers and sisters and watched over them through the night.  At dawn, the nine cold bodies were buried in a quiet corner of the Silver Dagger farm.

 

Wolfgang, Thimbur, and the Reflecting Pools

While glad to understand the source of the strange noise under the Moathouse and thus to remove this excuse from posting a standing garrison, Burne's ultimate interest was, again, the magic pools.  The stomachs of Mapper and Roquelle were suffering the effects of raw potato consumption, but Thimbur, another long-term resident of the Inn was willing to take the job.  Wolfgang and Gerrilynn agreed that, this time, they would work harder to remember the magic pools.  Once again, Burne was represented by his apprentice Panyus.  And Chickie and Riff rounded out the party.

This time, the group avoided the gnomes. (And perhaps vice-versa-- the moathouse cellars were empty.)

Thimbur had visited the moathouse on his own and consulting his maps, he helped Wolfgang and Gerrilynn find the secret staircase that led to the caverns far beneath.  Wolfgang relocated the pool room and showed Panyus how by filling it with water, one with the proper background could read the words reflected therein and learn new spells.

Panyus showed his gratitude by testing one of the spells on Wolfgang, and confirmed that the young druid would willingly hand over his ashwood staff as a token of friendship.  Panyus returned the staff, and asked Wolfgang where they would find other pools.

Wolfgang answered that he didn't know of any, and that they hadn't delved any deeper.  Panyus was satisfied with this and ready to return to the surface. but Thimbur had a suggestion.  Just because Wolfgang hadn't found other pools didn't mean they wouldn't.  After slight hesitation, Panyus agreed and the group moved deeper into the caverns.

After some time they came to a strange cavern which seemed to have the site of a cave-in.  Most of the room was filled with fine red earth and huge chunks of sandstone.  The only obvious exits were three holes in the ceiling, reachable by a rope.

But as they were discussing their next moves, Thimbur began climbing up the pile of silt, soon sinking up to his hips.  Gerrilynn called out for him to stop.

"Stop what?" he asked, before disappearing completely.  Gerilynn and Wolfgang sprang to his rescue, trying to dig through the piles of dirt, and reaching into it trying to grab him.   There was no one sign of him.

But then Thimbur stepped simply stepped back out on the other side of the room.  "What are you saying?  I'm fine."

Clearly there was magic at work.  Thimbur took the torch and walked into the dirt pile and back-- the flame was completely unaffected.  Thimbur indeed claimed that there was no dirt pile at all, that they were all in a large circular cavern, and that he had found some tracks in the "hidden" part of the room.  Panyus also seemed to see through what he declared an "illusion" and suggested that it was some kind of test of one's mental prowess. 

Then Riff walked after him, oblivious to not only the pile of dirt, but to the on-going debate about it.

While Wolfgang and Gerilynn struggled to climb over boulders, Thimbur found a secret passage in the hidden part of the cave.  Wolfgang and Grilynn allowed themselves to be tied to the end of a rope and, after taking a deep breath were pulled into the "dirt" and through it into the passage that Thimbur had discovered.

The caverns beyond were much narrower, labyrinthine, and wet, seemingly still in the process of being carved by the constant slow trickle of water.  Following the flow of water, the party reached another regularly constructed chamber with a pool at its center.  Once again there was writing on the upper walls of the chamber, and as this pool was well-supplied with water, this writing was reflected at their feet.  But it was unreadable.  The letters were not deeply carved and the water wasn't still.

Wolfgang had recovered a glowing lens in one of his earlier adventures.  He placed it in on a platform in the center of the pool.  It's light reflected off the ceiling and made the writing in the pool readable.  Panyus was thoroughly pleased.  After conferring with Gerrilynn, he confessed the charm that he'd cast on Wolfgang and dispelled its effects.

The party set up watch so that Panyus could copy one of the spells from the pool into his spell book.  Thmbur, exploring the immediate area, heard voices and rushed back to warn the others.  Panyus used the magic of the pool to make Thimbur invisible.  Thimbur remained in the pool room while the others found places to hide in a narrow side passage.

Moments later a group of six large, shaggy, and fanged creatures entered the room, bearing heavy swords and spiked clubs.  One of them noticed that the pool was empty and pointed it out to the others with much enthusiasm.  They clapped their hands, licked their lips and salivated and then began peering down the side passages, shouting for silence.  When a moment of silence was achieved, Thimbur tossed a stone down one of the side passages that led away from where his friends were hiding.  The monsters eagerly charged down it. 

Thimbur followed.  He trailed the monsters through the cave to their lair, a narrow noisome cavern strewn with charred bones.  The monsters were searching their home with a mixture of rage and excitement, until they came above the half-eaten body of an earlier body.

Thimbur went back to tell the others.  They agreed they would ambush the monsters in their lair.

By the time they returned, the monsters had a fire going and were busy eating.  Thimbur, still invisible, circled around it, finding the one he'd identified as the leader.  He rushed forward  with his sword drawn and, tripped over a rock to land in the middle of the cooking fire.  The monsters jumped to their feet only to be assaulted with arrows and stones from Thimbur's friends.  Thimbur himself rolled on the floor to extinguish the flames.  As two of the monsters grabbed for him, they were transfixed by Gerrilynn's magic.

The remaining monsters rushed at the group in the hallway and Panyus unleashed his most powerful magic, suddenly growing two double his size and sprouting foot-long horns from his face.  The effect was instant, temporary, and probably an illusion, but the monsters turned and fled.

The party pursued all the way to a large cavern.  There the monsters turned and attacked, but were destroyed by arrows and magic.

There was a large pool at the far end of the cavern.  It did not seem to be a "magic" pool, but a natural body of water, large enough that they couldn't see the other side of it.  As Wolfgang approached to investigate, a seemingly insignificant puddle expanded to engulf him.  He was trapped inside a membrane of living water.  Panyus pointed his wand and blasted the strange being with magical energy.  It sizzled and evaporated.

Thimbur cautiously approached the larger pool.  He could see the pool reached to end of the cavern and beyond.  That is, it flowed into a deep underwater cavern that extended beyond where they could see.  The water was clear and there was a rope bolted to the bottom, perhaps a guideline for a swimmer to reach what lay beyond.  Deciding that there was something wrong with something so easy, the party explored other ways of exiting the room.  Gerilynn discovered a crawl hole, about three feet off the ground and less than two feet in diameter.  By use of Wolfgang's glowing lens they saw the tunnel went on for twenty feet before curving out of sight.  Thimbur, Wolfgang, and Panyus agreed that they would see where it led.

Thimbur led the way, holding his dagger in his teeth, Wolfgang followed with the glowing lens, and Panyus came behind with his wand.  This prevented them from raising the question of when they should turn around until it was too late.  The passage was twisty and rough, and seemed to narrow further.  But the further they went, the more they hated the idea of retracing their steps going backwards-- it was far too narrow to turn around.

When they did finally reach the end, they found another pool.  This one, unlike the previous two, was not on the floor but on the top of a platform.  Thimbur climbed up to take a quick look from the narrow lip of the pool.  The ceiling was reflected on the water.  But not the writing.

Wolfgang and the Noise under the Moathouse

Burne's apprentice Panyus and a few of Burne's guards ("The Badgers") escorted Wolfgang and his pets, Mapper, Roquelle, Gerrilynn and their retainers Chickie and Riff out to the Moathouse.  Burne's Badgers had made some improvements.  The moat had been dredged and its banks shored up, providing a fast-flowing stream that seemed inhospitable to frogs.  And they'd contructed a sturdy bridge to cross it into the Moathouse's courtyard.

But they refused to stand guard overnight.  Although they'd fixed up the upper level, they continued to hear strange noises coming from below: clanking and banging, and strange voices, sometimes whispering and other times shrieking and shouting.  The first order of business, before finding the magic pool would be deal with whatever was making these mysterious sounds.

Burne's Badgers unlocked the trapdoor they'd constructed to close off the dungeon.  They put down a ladder the adventurers could climb down into the darkness.  Wolfgang left Bruno and Wolfie to guard their retreat.   

Mapper, relying on maps he'd drawn on previous visits to the moat house, led the others through a number of empty chambers, asking Wolfgang and Gerilynn where they'd found the passage to the magic pool.  But before they had gone far in their exploration, the group heard the banging they'd been warned of.  They traced its source easily enough, a large room without a door, but obscured by a heavy curtain.  The party soot outside and listened.  There was a steady pounding sound, then an angry cry, and then silence.  The party waited, and heard whispering arguing in a language they didn't understand.

And then a small man with a long gray beard stepped out.  He wore a red cap and a leather apron stained with soot.  "Ah!  Visitors, what a happy surprise, welcome!  We were just about to prepare our supper, will you join us?"

The party accepted the offer, and were put to work peeling carrots and potatoes.  Two more gnomes, nearly identical to the first except for the colors of their caps (blue and green) joined in the preparations.  They sang in exaggeratedly loud voices, but not loud enough to cover the noise of large heavy objects being moved around in the room behind the curtain.  Roquelle asked about the noise. "Can we go back there?"

Red answered, "Noise?  What noise?  Oh, that noise.  One of my brothers has a very bad cold.    Listen to that cough-- sounds like a worn-out gearbox.  Very contagious, too I'm afraid, maybe I should have warned you before I invited you to supper . . ."

Gerrilynn answered that in fact that they had eaten recently and had come down for another reason.  "We're looking for a magic pool.  Or any pool."

The gnomes knew nothing about water, or magic, and to prove the point, showed the party where they kept their water barrels.  "Would have been near impossible to get it here without the Fallinator."

"Fallinator?"

"Blue!  They don't know who that is!  There's our mule, see, Fallin, the mule, the Fallinator we call him to encourage him on account of h's not any stronger than a normal mule and actually weaker.  Look here, I always say potatoes are best raw so I've prepared you a nice package here.  Don't let us keep you."

The party remained curious about exactly what was behind the curtain, but declined to impose any further on the gnomes.  And Panyus was satisfied that at least they had a general explanation as to the source of the noise.  The party climbed up the ladder to return to Hommlet and report  this small success.  Burne was mildly grateful for the news, but nowhere near satisfied.