ADVENTURE

INTRODUCTION

I wrote most of this story while I was cleaning my teeth, which is usually quite boring. You can’t really listen to the radio or concentrate on music when you’re brushing your teeth, so I find it helps to think about something else. After brushing, there’s plenty of time to think about what you were thinking about while you were cleaning your teeth, but you tend to concentrate better when you’re lying in bed in the dark.

The idea for this story really goes back to the first things I wrote, which were based on role-playing games I’d run. This isn’t one, but I imagined it was and put the characters in as though each one was being played by someone. I always loved RPGs because you could create a story or scenario and give it to a group of players who could completely ruin it, making it much more interesting in the process.

Ask any creative writing teacher and they’ll tell you that stories are actually based on a narrative, and there are always multiple ways to tell a story. Like RPGs, the Dungeon Master can have a great idea for an adventure and lay out all the rooms, locations, traps, and monsters, but the way the narrative unfolds is entirely up to the players, and the story they create is experienced by the characters, played by the players.

It’s much easier than making this stuff up yourself, although it helps if you have an imagination that’s advanced enough to create the scenario, the players, and the characters. Once you’ve done that, the story just writes itself. And if you have nice, clean teeth at the end of it, that’s even better.

CHAPTER ONE: RIGBY FALLS

Larand stepped around the wreckage in the road in front of him, trying to piece together what had happened. The carriage lay on its side, doors shattered into splinters in the mud. Inside, the upholstery was soaked with rain, which continued to pour down from the thick clouds above. The trunk had been removed and set down at the side of the road, its lock missing and its contents emptied.

Rivulets of water ran down the narrow lane, slowly filling the ruts where the wheels had been. Two wheels were broken and one was missing. The other was spinning, propelled by the fierce wind that was being funnelled between the steep embankments. There was no sign of the horses, and it was too dark to see any hoof prints anyway. Even if he could have lit a torch, the wind and rain would surely extinguish it in a moment.

The track was off the main route to Rila, Larand's ultimate destination, but there had been reports of bandits operating in this area and the Paladin had made a diversion to see whether he might confront the gang of highwaymen and persuade them to pursue a different career path.

Larand pressed on, hoping this misery would soon end. The track rose over a hill, then dropped away steeply. He slipped and slid into the next depression, then climbed once more, before reaching a vantage point that offered an uninterrupted view of a valley.

The outline of the village was hard to make out, but there were a few lights, presumably storm lanterns, swinging in the gale. The Paladin thanked Obu for his good fortune and practically ran towards the hamlet, not an easy task given his plate armour, backpack, and weapons.

The wind seemed to be trying to push him away from the village, but he fought it and dug into his remaining reserves of energy, knowing that there was food and warmth waiting for him. There was only one inn, and the sounds of merriment came from inside.

As Larand clattered into the room he looked around at the people he was going to be spending the night with. Most were locals; evidently woodsmen or villagers. The travellers stood out to him, as plainly as if they had been marked with a magical glyph. A girl, not much older than seven or eight, ran up to him, offering to help with his gear. He doubted she could have lifted his pack or sword even if he had let her, but she persisted.

The room was filled with eight tables in the centre and several alcoves around the outside. Larand approached the travellers, likely those who had been riding in the carriage. There were three of them, but the one who caught his immediate attention was a cleric. She wore symbols of Akk, as he did. She was seated with her back to him with a young woman opposite her, who's head was completely obscured by a large and tattered tome. The third was a dwarf, not much older than forty years by the looks of him and possibly on his first outing from whatever community he was part of.

The dwarf pointed his mug at the Paladin to alert the cleric to his arrival. The cleric turned and bowed her head slightly. Larand stopped in front of her and knealt on one knee.

“My lady, I am a knight of Akk and I would very much like to ask for your assistance,”

“My lord,” the cleric replied, “my name is Andrea, a cleric of the church of Obu. I am your servant.” Larand sat next to her and she helped him lift off his upper plates, setting them down on the floor. “Are you wounded? What help can I give?” Andrea asked.

“I am in good health, thank you,” Larand replied. “I have travelled this day from Luneberg and am weary. If I am to seek shelter here I would rather be in the company of my own kind."

The dwarf poured a mug of ale from the jug on the table and handed it to Larand, then introduced himself as Éliás of Dummir. Larand wasn't familair with it.

"Were you the occupants of that carriage I saw on the road?”

"We were," said Éliás.

"We were caught in the storm," Andrea explained. "The horses were frightened by the lightning and the driver couldn't control them. Fortunatley no one was hurt in the crash."

Larand became aware of a movement behind him. At first he thought it was the girl who had greeted him; pushing past to get to another table, but then he felt a tug at his boot. He looked around but could not see anyone there. Then his backpack moved and he reached down to catch an arm which was rapidly being withdrawn from it.