Tired Of Death

The dark structure of the castle loomed above the party, the upper towers disappearing into the gloom of the cavern.

"Certainly looks the part anyway," said Cuthbert, leaning back and gazing upwards.

"Where's the entrance?" asked Dreth.

They were in the depths of the Black Desert. The castle had been visible for many leagues, the only building in the vicinity. They had slogged towards it as fast as they'd been able, stopping only to allow Redthorne to rest occasionally.

Now they had reached their target. An imposing citadel of solid dark stone, which gave the distinct impression that it was watching their every move.

"This way, I think I see a drawbridge," said Emerald.

They trudged round to the entrance. A huge portal that hung over them like some sort of cavernous maw. Two giant figures stood either side of the way in, covered from head to foot in heavy plate mail armor, and holding swords as long as Dreth was tall.

"Guards," hissed Redthorne.

Dreth rolled his eyes. "No! You think?"

Redthorne's visage darkened. "Don't speak to me thus fiend. I am a wizard of…"

"The pink light party yah yah yah. We've heard it before mage." Dreth looked at the Cuthbert. "The old 'prisoner' trick here I think?"

Cuthbert nodded.

~ * ~

Gordon stood silently and watched through his visor as the party approached. Several undead surrounded what appeared to be a mage carrying a baby. One of the zombies pushed the wizard ahead of him, causing a variety of angry complaints as they clumped over the drawbridge.

The tallest being, a thin human who looked like he had seen better days, approached the other guard, who happened to be Gordon's sergeant, Simon.

"Prisoner delivery."

"Docket," said Simon.

"Docket?"

"Your paperwork. Hand it over."

"Ah yes, the docket. Where did I put it?" The tall man made a show of patting his pockets.

Gordon looked on as the man searched his robe, to no avail.

"Ah, sorry. I seem to have misplaced it. Still, never mind eh? I'm sure…"

"No docket, no entry," said Simon, who was the methodical type.

"Look, we have an important prisoner here…"

"No docket, no entry," repeated the guard.

The man took a deep breath. "Look my friend, I am…"

"Don't care who you are. We have our orders. No docket…"

"…no entry, yes yes yes, I understood you the first three times." The human brought his hand up to his chin thoughtfully. "Shall we start again? My name's Dreth. I've an important prisoner here, a wizard of…"

"No docket…" Simon began.

"Ok. I tell you what," said the man holding up a hand to forestall the ritual response. "I will make you a deal yes?"

Simon leaned forward. "No…"

There was a blur of action. Gordon blinked. The man now had a long dark sword in his hands. The blade was throbbing with black light and humming. It was also dripping with blood.

Simon stood still for a moment more, then slowly, very slowly, his right half peeled away from his left and fell to the floor with a loud metallic clang. The other half followed suite.

The man looked at Gordon, who had not moved throughout the entire episode. "Now. Shall I try again? We have an important…"

"Pass friend," said Gordon, who was only two hundred years from retirement, and had never liked Simon much anyway.

The man nodded and sheathed his sword. "Much better. I commend your initiative." He looked around. "Bring the prisoner!"

The troop marched on into the castle.

Gordon didn't move. He was on guard duty, watching the Black Desert for any possible sign of enemies. He saw none, as usual.