Tired Of Death

"You are a cowardly beast, unworthy to wield one such as I." Darkblood hissed as Dreth wiped some remaining Orc king gunk off the blade. "A fiend like you should revel in blood and slaughter. With your half-life and my powers we would be an unstoppable force for evil!" The sword pulsed a dark, throbbing light as it spoke.

"Hah. Didn't do much against Mr. Golem did you?" Cuthbert piped up from his perch on top of a boulder. "What was it again? Oh yes..." His tone took what he intended to be a high pitched girly voice. "Oooh, that so hurt me! Boo hoo!"

"You are a worthless piece of mangy flesh!" roared the sword, red flashes of energy crackling down its length. A wave of hatred emanated from the weapon, which left the zombie totally unconcerned.

"Better than an old bent piece of metal! Didn't do your previous owner much good when he came up against Dreth now, did you? All talk and no gore, that's your problem." Cuthbert stuck the remains of a rotten tongue out and attempted to blow a raspberry, but only succeeded in spitting it out. "Ahhhh mmu uuunng!" He mumbled, scrabbling after the mouth part.

Darkblood laughed in malicious glee as the zombie scuffled around, trying to locate the errant item amongst the pebbles and rocks. "I would have sliced this pathetic excuse for a guardian in two, had my owner had the wits to use me instead of grabbing for his mace," he said.

"Enough you two!" snapped Dreth, sheathing the sword and standing up. "Where is that wizard? How long does it take to relieve yourself?"

He looked around. They had passed over the canyon of the Beholder without incident, and were now in yet another cavern, the walls the same dull red color, slick with condensation. They had paused briefly to allow Redthorne to perform his toilet, and act which he wasn't keen to perform in front of them.

"I'll go and look for him," said Percy.

"No need." A figure loomed up out of the gloom. "I'm here. Let us proceed."

"Mmmm unngg!" protested Cuthbert, still on all fours. He lifted a rock and paused for a moment as some small insect attempted to squirm away. He picked it up and crunched down, chewing awkwardly.

"We can get you another tongue later," said Dreth. "Let's move, we've wasted enough time already." He turned and walked off.

Cuthbert took one desperate last look around, and then stood up and hurried after them.

"Asssbbbd" he spat.

They traveled on, rocks and pebbles clattering underfoot, the sounds echoing around the large cavern.

"How big is this dungeon anyway?" asked Redthorne.

Dreth shrugged. "I don't know really. Pretty big though. It's been around for a thousand years or more, so they say."

The wizards stroked his beard in thought. "And in all that time, no one has ever claimed the treasure?"

"Not that I know of," said Dreth. "But then no one tells me anything."

Redthorne opened his mouth to speak again, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by shouts and screams from Percy.

Dreth hurried forward to see the zombie rolling on the floor. Attached to his neck was a small fairy-like being, wings flapping as it bit into the undead's throat.

"Get it off! Get if off!" screamed Percy, pulling at his attacker. "OOooowoOOwww!"

Dreth stepped up, but before he could take any action the creature let go and shot backwards into the air.

"Urg! Disgusting! Rotten meat! Yargg!" The small figure recoiled, spitting and wiping at her mouth.

"What do you expect?" yelled Percy back, clutching at his torn neck. "Serves you right! Hope you get food poisoning! OOow!! Little bitch!"

The flying attacker looked around as the others approached. She was small, about twice the size of a man's hand maybe. Dark hair floated about her head, and tiny wings buzzed behind her as she flitted to and fro so fast it was hard to make out her features.

"Fresh meat!" she cried, spying Redthorne and darting forward, a blur in the air.

Fast as she was, Dreth was faster, intercepting her and batting the diminutive aggressor away with his hand, causing her to tumble backwards and land roughly on the ground.

"Ow! Watch it ugly, or I'll bite your ears off!" She sat up holding her head.

"You can try," said Dreth standing over her. "Now, tell me who you are before I step on you and squash you like a bug."

The small figure spat and stood up uncertainly. Dreth squatted down and examined her more closely. Now she was still enough to make out her features, he could see a pretty face surrounded by long dark hair. She looked like a tiny human female, maybe early twenties, clothed in a simple black dress which looked like it had seen better days.

"Draw a picture, it will last longer," she said nastily. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

"Name's Dreth, Guardian of the Undead way. What's your moniker shrimp?"

The small woman sighed and sat down on a pebble. "I'm Smudge, Fearie from the Black Garden."

"The Black Garden? Never heard of it," Dreth said.

"It is some way from here, presumably anyway, near a hidden entrance to the dungeon. I was with a group when a large party of elves came through. They captured me but I managed to escape, and now I'm lost. Hungry too." She eyed Redthorne meaningfully.

"Since when do Faerie go around eating meat and attacking innocent zombies?" complained Percy.

"I said a Fearie, not a Faerie you blundering fool!" the small creature sneered at him. "There is a noticeable difference. Fearie are superior in almost every way." She sniffed a superior sniff to emphasize her point.

Dreth stood up as Smudge launched herself into the air again, flitting about like an oversize black wasp. "Well, you're welcome to tag along with us if you want, but no biting the wizard."

"Hmmph." She sniffed again. "He's probably too old and stringy anyway."

"Here, take a snack from my supplies," said Dreth, gesturing at Cuthbert to open the bag. "They're a bit old I'm afraid, but better than nothing."

Cuthbert passed Smudge a hand, which she struggled to carry, finally settling down on Sprat's head to eat it as they walked.

"Tell me about these elves," said Redthorne. "What tribe were they from?"

"I don't know," shrugged the Fearie, her mouth full of finger. "They all look the same to me. Seemed pretty determined to get into the dungeon though. Very strange actually, Elves don't usually care about treasure, at least as a community."

"I see," said Redthorne and fell back a little, deep in thought.

"Something wrong?" asked Dreth.

"What? Oh, no, nothing." The wizard waved a hand in dismissal and then looked up. "I think we're coming to the end of this cave."

Dreth noted the change of subject but didn't comment. The cave was indeed narrowing. Off to one side a stout wooden door was set into the wall, looking totally out of place in the rough rock.

Cuthbert placed an ear to it and listened for a moment. "aarn eearanfuu," he mumbled.

"What?" asked Percy.

Uuuu aad... uuu aaaarn eeer ufffuuu", Cuthbert repeated.

"I think he said he couldn't hear anything," said Dreth. He pushed at Percy. "Open the door, see what's behind."

"Bah. Bully," the zombie muttered, but pulled on the portal anyway. It creaked open to reveal a gray stone dungeon tunnel behind, running left to right. The undead stuck his head through and looked carefully around. "Can't see anything," he said and stepped through.

The floor immediately gave way beneath him, dropping him into space. There was a scream, a moment of silence and then a dull thud.

"Uuueee!" shouted Cuthbert, and ran forward to peer into the trap.

They all looked down into the pit. Percy was lying on the floor, a large spike through one leg. "Help!! Help! Get me out of here!" he screamed.

"Shhhh!" said Dreth, making gestures with his hands. "No telling what monsters around here." He looked up. "Smudge, Spit, go and check out the passageway a little, make sure nothing is coming. Cuthbert, get the rope out and haul him back up."

Smudge mumbled something about being ordered about, but flew off a little way down the tunnel. Sprat did the same, sliding past the trap and grumbling about how some people couldn't remember his name.

"Oooooohhh, what a day!" g.r.o.a.n.e.d Percy from his landing place. "First bitten half to re-death by a flying black midget, now my best leg ruined! And I think I've broken a rib too." There was a cracking sound, then a squelch as he pulled something free from his c.h.e.s.t. "Yep. Look at that. No good to anybody now." He threw the bone away, and then saw something lying nearby. "Hey! I've found some treasure!"

"What is it?" Hissed Dreth, still worried about attracting attention. "Pass it up!"

"Ho! Wouldn't you just like that?"

"Pass it up or we leave you down there to rot," said Dreth. Then, because he was a bit of a stickler for detail, added: "More."

"Oooh, one day you are going to get what's coming to you." Percy grunted as he threw the sack up. It fell back and hit him in the face. "Ohhh! For Fugg's sake. Why me?"

Eventually, with a lot of groaning and complaining both Percy and the sack were recovered. Dreth snatched the bag away from him. "Now, what have we here?" He said, and opened it...