Part II
Who put the Man in “Shaman-a-Mana-Ding-Dong?

Sissy leaned against her staff and wiped the rain from her eyes. She kicked the muck and mud from her heavy boots yet again, knowing the futility of the motion before she finished.
Mud, she thought, my only motivation to enter that cavern. It better be dry. I have had it with mud, caves, and burned out farm houses. I have ruined six pairs of boots in as many days. The things I do for love . . .
Her eyes found their way yet again to Eddy. Here was a man unlike the fishermen of her village, with a different sort of magnetism than the overpowering masculinity of the barbarian. He wasn't as easy to flirt with, though.

With quiet resolve, he had led them down into a dark cave when it became obvious that something more than giant porcupines and zombies were causing Kashya’s concern. In the dark tunnels they had encountered hordes of Fallen. Sissy had put her scant magical training to use, and discovered that flaming balls cast by a Shaman hurt. Her cloak had been burnt to cinders in their first skirmish. It had taken Slicer wrapping her up in his great arms and rolling across the cave floor to prevent greater injury to her olive skin. The little squad had quickly learned to target the Shamans whenever they encountered Fallen in the caves or out on the Blood Moor. Enormous beasts that Saucy called “Giant Fuzzies” tried to crush them in lethal embrace. Groaning zombies attacked them from out of shadowy nooks in the rocky chambers of the cavern.
Relentlessly, the four had fought their way into the dark tunnels below the Blood Moor. Deep in the bowels of the earth they came face to face with Corpsefire, a zombie lord who seemed too sentient for a walking corpse. He burned, thought Sissy grimly, just like the others. It was shortly after that mission that Eddy had given her a ring. It still made her giddy to think about it, although Slicer's obvious displeasure reminded her to tread lightly. She wasn't sure she wanted these two fighting over her just yet.

Eddy had been so straight faced as he held a beautifully crafted golden ring between his fingertips, taking her right hand and gently slipped the ring over her middle finger. Looking deeply into her eyes he had said, in his calm, rich voice, “Wear this ring, Sissy, it will protect you from fire. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” He had smiled gently. The look of concern in his eyes had made her knees weak.
Of course, the cad had also given that blonde hussy a bronze ring just yesterday. It still made her ears hot to think about it.

That battle had been a real hairball. They had engaged a whole coven of shamans, surrounded by dozens of Fallen, and discovered added powers of evil magic. Every slain imp seemed to reanimate when the evil witch doctors cast a spell--the little runts would stand right back up and attack! Then, halfway through the battle, a dozen crazed rogues wielding spears, and screaming “Oakie oakie give them a pokie!!” charged into their left flank. The chaos of combat was more exhilarating than a rave, but Sissy wondered how they had survived the fight. Her left shoulder was still tender from impact of an imp's mace.

She had flung fire and ice at everything that moved. Saucy’s bowstring--she had been given a lovely new hunting bow by Eddy, that two-timer--had hummed with the flight of arrows. Super Hunk Slicer was everywhere, slashing and bashing like a man possessed. His raw physical power, hinted at in repose, was devastating in action. Eddy had patiently attacked the center of the Shaman hoard, fending off Fallen with his shield as though they were horseflies, finally crushing the leader’s skull with his scepter. At the death of their leader, the Fallen became a disorganized mob who fell to Slicer’s ever slashing sword and Saucy’s deadly arrows.

The return to the camp had been grim, however, even in the aftermath of their tactical victory. A bleeding rogue coughed out her scouting report: Blood Raven, once a hero at some place called Tristram, was raising an army of skeletons and zombies to assault the Rogues’ outpost. Kashya held the scout, Flavie, in her arms the way a mother holds a baby, and wept as her soldier’s last breath sighed into the damp night. Akara’s attempts to heal Flavie's wounds had left the old priestess weak and drained.

That evening, as they ate a simple dinner of hardtack, bacon, and beer, Slicer had been oversolicitous of her health. Eddy had remained aloof, oblivious to the blandishments of Saucy and a couple of the rogues. When Sissy got up, Slicer had followed after her to "escort her to her tent." She had instead walked around the campfire a couple of times to see what he would do. The big lug had just followed after her, which inspired Saucy to jeer at them both: "Hey, why don't you two go find a tent and leave the rest of us in peace? The courtship rituals of barbarians and overcivilized hussies bore me, unless I get to watch the closing of the deal."

"Speak for your self, blondie," shot back a rogue named Gwinni, " I think it's kind of cute." Her voice took on a singsong lilt as she continued, "But I hear 'Heart's a-breakin', all over the world . . ." she segued into the old mountain song about a lovelorn drover smitten by his only glimpse of a Count's daughter. Soon, all of the rogues had joined in the singing, ignoring Sissy's quiet but intense discussion with Slicer that ended with "just give me some space, 'kay?"

When the singing had died down, Eddy had summoned the group over to his spot by the fire, where he had drawn a crude map in the dirt. He looked at each of them to make sure he had their attention, and very matter-of-factly laid out the plan of campaign.
“Pre-emptive strike. We will surprise them by attacking their assembly area. Sissy, when we enter the graveyard, I need you to cast those icy bolts at who ever appears to be the leader. Saucy, keep up a sustained base of fire, preferably on the enemy furthest from us. Slicer and I will advance two abreast. No time for anything fancy when we get to the graveyard, we have to hit hard and keep attacking until nothing moves against us.” Kashya had joined the small circle, and cleared her throat, her gray eyes glinting with emotion.

“Beware, Paladin, Blood Raven is a fell hand with a war bow. Her skill was a legend in Tristram. Tell me how I may reach your families, so I can send word if you fail.”

Slicer glared at Kashya, his face red with suppressed indignation.
“Rogue lady,” he said in his deep voice, “You save that pigeon for my victory feast. I do not think about defeat before battle--I arm myself for victory. We will see you soon enough. Just have some pigeons ready for me when we get back.”
"Easy, big fella," Eddy interjected, trying to forestall an argument, "let's not let our testosterone get ahold of our tongues. Plenty of time to vent your aggression on those who deserve it-- in the graveyard."

Seeing the belligerent set of Slicer's jaw, Kashya wisely chose to address her next remarks to Saucy:
“If you can remember what I taught you last night, some of your arrows will be enchanted with cold. Make Blood Raven your target, or you will never drink beer again.”

Saucy snorted. "Hey, if I can't drink beer, there's no point in living, now is there?" She winked at Slicer.
"Hey Lovestruck, I think I need some help re-rigging my tent. I can't seem to get rid of the draft, and you know how we delicate southerners suffer in this damp climate."
Sissy rolled her eyes, while two or three of the rogues looked at each other with suggestive leers and winks.

Saucy got up, stretched elaborately, and slunk over toward her tent. Slicer paused, looked at Sissy, then at Eddy, and then at Kashya, and stalked off into the darkness, muttering under his breath.

Kashya had nearly choked with suppressed laughter.
"Light save me, if those two start tangling in the blankets tonight, none of us will get any sleep. That Amazon is enough trouble to turn all my hair silver." She got up, and strode back to her quarters.
Eddy had simply bade Sissy goodnight, and curled up next to the fire in a blanket, mumbling something about getting a good night's rest before their raid.

Entering the Graveyard the next morning, everything happened too fast. A horde of skeletons came stumbling forward, then it was ice and staff work, and the crunch of Eddy’s scepter on a skull or Slicer’s sword cutting the evil corpses in half. Then Saucy had cried out “ ‘Ware zombies on the left flank!” and redirected her stream of arrows to the new threat. Like a single body, the group wheeled left and waded into the undead ranks.

Their momentum carried them into the grave yard where a chilling voice called out a challenge to them: “My army will destroy you!!”
Suddenly the air was filled with flaming arrows coming in, and Saucy’s blue arrows and her own cold spells flying out. Slicer and Eddy had reached Blood Raven almost together. The Rogue, slowed by the cold missiles, could not evade the blows that dismembered her. A great shower of light erupted when Blood Raven fell, dissipating the cloying darkness cloaking the tombstones.
And then, quite suddenly, an eerie silence.

Eddy had knelt in prayer for a few moments before looking up to address his comrades in arms.
“Let us cleanse the burial grounds, and re-hallow this sacred resting place.”
After some time spent cleaning up the aftermath of battle, Eddy sang a paean to the Light. Sissy had felt her spirits soar, and the pain from her wounds ease.

Then down they went again, this time into the old crypts. More skeletons and zombies were destroyed and hidden treasures found. Eddy gave her another ring in the still, dry darkness after yet another skirmish, and quietly asked her to wear it--for him. Wasn’t he the sweetest guy?

Slicer had found a beautiful golden necklace, with an amulet suspended from it, and had offered it to her with hope filled eyes. Sissy had thanked him, and given him a sisterly kiss on the cheek, which had left him blushing and stammering. He had also found a rune engraved bow called Raven Wing that he gave to Saucy. After stringing it and giving a it few quick tests, the Amazon had wiped some random gore from her sleeve and looked at everybody with a friendly grin. Opening a scroll bound in blue ribbon, she summoned a glittering tunnel through the air, while addressing the weary combatants
“Hey guys, I don’t know about you, but I have worked up a powerful thirst. Any body else want some of Gheed’s best lager?” They had all offered tired assent, and followed her through the glowing blue portal to the Rogue Encampment.

The subdued welcome they received at the news of Blood Raven’s demise did nothing to quench their joy at surviving their latest battle. Eventually, the rogues joined them in Gheed’s tent and the ale flowed like water. Warriv got out his lute and played a few reels and jigs, to which they had danced, albeit clumsily. After Sissy's second dance with Eddy, Slicer had chased her around the campfire while Warriv played a spirited Ensteig Reel, until Saucy had "accidentally" tripped the big man as she got up to refill her ale jack. This had ended the dancing for all practical purposes. They had all refilled their assorted cups and mugs and flagons with ale, and sang long into the night, reveling in their vitality and good fortune. Too well they knew that any day could be their last.

So here it was, two days later, and the battle hardened party of six-- two rogues had agreed to escort them to provide more fire support-- stood before the gaping mouth of yet another hole in the ground in their search for the mysterious scroll of Inifus.

Forward to Part III >>