The Guards of Galdenwyck [1-6]
The middle of the Sea of Avax would, under normal geological circumstances, have been a great expanse of water, a fine place for the fishes of the Ffjords. But the great Avaximander chose this locale for his summer tower, where he could get away from the daily chores of ruling Galdenwyck during the sultry months.
Recognizing that his tower would need a sturdy plot of land, he summoned nine score of earth elementals and levitated them all at the exact center of the sea. With the aid of Mordekain’s Elemental Permanent Bind Spell and the talents of his maiden druid, L’arboria, a great and beautiful tropical island was fashioned. Avaximander bade that it be forever known as the Isle of Grimden, named after the first earth elemental he summoned. Visitors still claim to hear him screaming for release from his watery prison each morning as the tide swells at every shore: “Please release me, let me go.”
As the years and Avaxmiander himself passed away, his tower was slowly converted into a tavern and inn, where wealthy residents from all over Galdenwyck would come to eat bed in breakfast, which was becoming all the rage. More often than not, Chairman Taga would loan out his Electrum Cheves to the “Avaximandrian Tabbern and Inn and Grille” in order to raise extra funds for his exceedingly overt desires for gold leaf furniture.
Because he loaned out his cheves, Taga always received special perks while visiting. The innkeeper kept the 35th level reserved for him, he received a free breakfast buffet, and Taga was the only guest who received comped tickets to the nightly show at Sandry’s Sundries, the local gaming house.
It was here in these lush and luxurious pleasantries where Clavdia materialized. She thought of it as a homecoming when she gazed upon her surroundings at the base of Avaximander’s tower. How long ago had it been since Avaximander created her out of Ritalinium?
Too long . . . .
Why, her Bastard Sword of Undead Control had not tasted dwarven blood since . . . .
She saw bright lights coming from the North. What could this be? A tavern on the Isle of Grimden? Nothing of the sort would be approved by Avaximander.
“Sandry’s Sundries? What topsy-turvy world is this that I have come to? Where is Avaximander? He would not stand for such ribaldry. I pray that dwarves are inside, so that my sword can parch its throat!”
Had Kooz-kooz and Fwagwa, the Electrum Cheves on sabbatical, not been so intent on their game of dice inside of Sandry’s Sundries, they might’ve noticed the entrance of Clavdia. These so-called “conjurers of olive oil” were at a slight disadvantage as it were: they were both dwarves.
The tall and beautiful Clavdia, clothed in red mail armour and silvern boots approached Sandry’s front door. The guard, a mercenary fighter of the 6th level, stepped in front of Clavdia.
“Halt!” he said. “No weapons are allowed inside.”
Clavdia blinked her eyes, taken aback by such effrontery. Who was this weakling who dared to impede her progress?
“I’m sorry” she purred. “Can you repeat that?”
“Yes, ma’am. There are no weapons allowed inside.”
Killing a simple human didn’t hold much interest for her at the moment, but not taking her sword inside was out of the question.
“Well, you’ll be able to make an exception for me, won’t you?”
The guard shook his head. “No, I’m sorry”, he said and held out his hand for her sword.
Clavdia rolled her eyes and dropped a few copper pieces on the ground. Just as she expected, the guard bent to retrieve them for her and she slammed the heavy handle of her large sword onto the base of his skull, knocking him out. She kicked him back against the wall of the building to sit him upright so it looked like he was sleeping on the job. A quick glance around told her that no passersby had witnessed her attack. Not that this was something she really cared about, but it was always best to appear proper when entering a gaming den.
When she stepped inside, it only took a few segments for all activity to cease as the gamblers and drinkers could not help but stare at the imposing and nattily armoured woman who had just entered. Clavdia nodded at the bartender and took a seat against the wall, waiting for things to return to normal.
Kooz-Kooz cocked his head toward Clavdia. “Who’s the dish?”
Fwagwa shrugged. “I dunno. Out of your league anyway. Don’t forget, even though you’re an Elecrum Chef, you’re still a dwarf.”
“Yeah, I guess. Why don’t you roll?”
Fwagwa picked up an some eight-sided dice and rolled 2d8. “Aha, 14. Let’s see you beat that.”
Kooz-Kooz sniffed and nodded at the diceman at the head of the table. The diceman pushed a selection of dice across the table to Kooz-Kooz, who took a drink of Corythian mead from a large flagon and then selected two ten-sided dice and rolled 2d10.
“36. By the Rites of Schakram, ” cursed Kooz-Kooz.
Fwagwa let out a shout of joy and grabbed the stack of electra on the table. “You just can’t win today, Kooz-Kooz.” He stood up and looked around the room. “Will anyone else here challenge me to a game of Probability Dungeon Dice?”
“I will, ” a voice said. Fwagma turned and saw Clavdia rising from her seat, her lips twisted into a wicked smile.
“Uh, what’s your name, missy?” Fwagwa entered into a verbal battle with her.
“Clavdia.”
“Oh! Like the moon!”
“Yes. Like the moon.”
“Well, did you know you were missing? We’ve been looking for you all night in the sky, and what luck we have to find you in our gaming parlor!”
“Let’s throw aside the pleasantries and start throwing down some dice, shall we? Or would you prefer I crack you and your little friend’s dwarven skulls?”
“Look, missy, we’re simple folk here. But I wouldn’t mind cracking my head against your thingies, if you know what I mean.”
This particular vernacular for the act of sexual intercourse did not exist the last time Clavdia was on Galdenwyck in her physical creation, and she therefore mistook its meaning.
“I would be honored to have your head crack against my thingies. Diceman! Toss your rocks at me!”
The diceman threw out an assortment of orange pearlescent dice, some four-sided, some ten-sided, and one hundred-sided die. He always saved his best dice for the ladies on Grimden.
“Ahhh. The rare orange pearlescent dice,” she said, “These will do nicely. I propose we each toss 1D100, and whoever has the higher roll gets to crack their head on the other’s thingies.”
Kooz-Kooz winked and nudged Fwagwa in the ribs. “The fires of Saphron burn in her gullet for you!”
Fwagwa accepted the challenge, not knowing that whatever he rolled, Clavdia intended on turning him into dwarven soup for dinner. Clavdia grasped the D100 and cast it against the green felten table. It bounced and rolled backwards from the body English which she knew would result in a high outcome, stopping to rest on 76.
“Hah! You only have a 23 in 100 chance of beating that!” Clavdia shouted.
“No, it’s a 24 in 100 chance,” Kooz-Kooz explained, “Double-aught stands for 100. You can’t fit three digits on the faces of the D100 because they’re so small.”
“Diceman! Is this true?” she asked for clarification.
The diceman made his intelligence check by rolling a 3 on a 1D20 roll. He looked up from the table and nodded silently.
Thinking of cracking his head on Clavdia’s thingies stirred up Fwagwa to new levels of excitement. Plus, a song by D’Elvisbard in the background gave him a +1 to all of his rolls for the next 3 turns. He eagerly snatched up the D100 and rattled it overhead for a mighty toss. As he pitched it down onto the table, it fumbled out of his tiny dwarven hands. If only he’d been human, he thought.
The D100 rolled along the floor of Sandry’s Sundries, gaining momentum on the way out of the parlor (Sandry had built his gaming house with a steady slant outwards so spilled mead and vomit would flow towards the egress). Clavdia, Fwagwa, and Kooz-Kooz all chased after it, eagerly anticipating the outcome.
Once outside, they struggled to find the D100, as it had fallen into some shrubbery near the doors. Clavdia had to spend a few segments preparing a Light spell.
“So, our missy is a magic-user!” Fwagwa mocked her.
He shuddered in fear quickly after he realized that this was no normal Light spell. The arc of light that streamed from Clavdia’s hands was bright enough to light up the whole Isle of Grimden as if it were under the noonday sun! Hundreds of miles away, Chairman Taga noticed the bright light, and feared the worst.
Kooz-Kooz found the die under one of the copper pieces Clavdia had dropped earlier.
“Here it is! It’s an 88!”
“Hogwash! It’s a cock die! I call for a ‘Do Over’!” Clavdia shrieked. She realized that she was far enough outside of the parlor to end their little dwarven existence with little or no disturbance. It was an opportunity she did not let come to pass.
As Kooz-Kooz bent over to pick up the D100 and the remaining copper pieces, Clavdia grabbed Fwagwa’s head and cracked it against her knees, splitting it open into three parts, mainly because of her Girdle of Cloud Giant Strength. His poor head might have stood a chance had she only possessed Gauntlets of Ogre Power, but as it stood, his poor skull was splintered into neat slices that she could easily skewer and roast later at her campfire.
The thought of dwarfkebob suddenly ran through Clavdia’s mind and she turned toward poor Kooz-Kooz who was standing to her left immobilized with fear. He dropped the heavy D100 and tried to run but Clavdia’s dexterity and magic sword gave her a weapon speed bonus and she neatly ran the little dwarf through. Grabbing Fwagwa by the feet, she headed down toward the beach where she would wait for the others and prepare a feast for the gathering.
Once the dwarves were stuffed with some fruit she had picked and the dried fruit she had found in Fwagwa’s rucksack, she built a large fire and skewered both Kooz-Kooz and Fwagwa on a tree branch and began the long process of roasting. It would be a couple of weeks before all 14 Guardians were gathered on these shores and she would have plenty to keep her busy during that time.
According to Avaximander, Morimuto would be the next to appear, most likely by sundown of the following day. She had been warned that he would be impatient and want to assault Taga’s fortress immediately. It was up to her to keep him busy with other tasks until the time when all had gathered.
Clavida eased out of her armour and laid down upon the beach, basking in the glow of her 13 brothers and sisters. Morimuto was starting to dim now. She knew her absence from the sky would have been noticed by now and Morimuto’s dimming would only raise the alarm even more.
