twiss@stolaf.UUCP (Thomas S. Twiss) (04/20/84)
THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN MARLOWE TOXIN
Installment #3: Nor Rhyme nor Reason, or A Nice Place to
Visit...
The Great Gate to the Dwarven caverns was immense. All
twenty-three of the party stood on a large stone welcome mat
before the doorway. The iron door itself was twenty feet wide
and nearly thirty feet tall. There was a seam in the middle--
apparently it opened into two halves. All around the entrance
was the thick cover of the forest. Even the path back to the
shore was very narrow and barely visible in the dense foliage.
The men stared with awe at this great portal.
On its surface was carved a border all around the edge. In
the center were various groupings of ancient runes in many
tongues. Most of the messages on the door concerned trade rules
and such. Some were illegible. Most were in languages unknown
to anyone in the party, even Pelegor, the Wizard.
"Do you know how to get it open, Porky?" Marlowe asked the
scruffy Dwarf standing next to him.
"Nope. Ee don' think tho," he said unsuredly.
"How about you, Pelegor?"
"I'm afraid not. Most of these runes are too ancient even
for me to understand," said the Wizard.
Marlowe turned to his men. "Any ideas, men?" he yelled out.
There were a few whispers, and one old seaman farted, but no-one
spoke up. So there they sat, unable to enter the Dwarven hall in
Mt.Bresk.
Suddenly Fluppenstimme jumped up. "Ee remeember!" he cried.
"Eeth uh rhyme, uf courthe." Then he recited the rhyme:
Thay the greeting in anthient tongue,
Then trathe the letterth with thy bum.
When you reech the shallow thpot, preth in:
The opening protheth will begin.
Pelegor immediately began to scan the door for the most
ancient runes. But after many hours of deep concentration and
scrutiny, he gave up.
"I have not learned enough of the ancient runes which are no
longer used. I am stumped."
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At this the whole party was dismayed. Everyone sat on the
ground and made sad faces and pouted. There were cries of "When
do we get there?" and "I have to go potty!" But Fluppenstimme
was not complaining; he was busy concentrating, trying to
remember any little detail which he might have forgotten.
Just then a man walked out of the woods via their path. As
he stepped into the clearing he said: "Gorumba-gorumba Bali!"
He was a medium-sized man, wearing only a loin cloth and a
knife. He smiled amiably and seemed entirely unafraid of the
large group of men on the ground before him, sucking their
thumbs. He extended his right hand.
Captain Marlowe stepped forward, extended his hand, and
said, "Hello! Who are you?"
The man shook Marlowe's hand and said, "Barra se tulu gara
wan."
But before any more dialogue could transpire, Fluppenstimme
cried out, "Hay, Coptaine! Look!"
Everyone turned to look at the dwarf. They saw a large,
glowing symbol-rune on the door.
"Umboola gualli! Umboola gualli!" said the man, but no one
listened.
"Hey, Wizard, get over there and start tracing!" barked
Marlowe.
A minute later Pelegor had found the depression and the
doors were beginning to open. The jungle-man watched with
horror, screamed something to Marlowe, then turned and ran back
into the woods. The men lit torches and lanterns and entered the
mountain. The doors closed behind them...
Inside the gateway it was very dark. Even with the light of
their torches and lanterns it took several minutes for their eyes
to adjust. In the resulting confusion, several men were badly
burned and one ran ahead screaming into the darkness. He was
quickly silenced. Eventually, however, Captain Marlowe was able
to get the men in order.
"O.K. men, listen up!" His voice echoed back from the
abyss. "Me and Pelegor are gonna be in front. Then Porky and
Tok. Sandaken and Karl will bring up the rear. The rest of you
get into two rows. Look around you so you know who's near you.
We will all be dependent upon one another to survive down here.
Above all, don't panic. As long as we stick together we can't
get hurt. Also, keep open communication. We all need to rely on
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each other. Oh, and if anyone has to go potty, do it now. We
move out in five minutes."
The men shuffled about, getting their things in order.
Every sound seemed amplified. Marlowe sat in the darkness,
thinking. He thought about the strange jungle-man who had
greeted them outside. He thought about the Evil Symbol. Was it
really worth it to travel so far from the harbor of Gildterdil?
Was it really worth risking life, against great odds? He felt
nature call and got up, wandering in the direction of a wall. How
was it that he'd gotten so far into this mess? How could he be
here, far, far, far, a long ways, from home? Ah, yes,
Fluppenstimme...That was how he'd gotten on this miserable quest.
In his mind, Marlowe pictured the scene at the bar in Gildterdil
last month...
"Eh, mon," said a little voice. "votch vot yer doin'!"
Marlowe's daydream had been interrupted by tripping over
Fluppenstimme who was seated on the floor of the Great Hall.
"Whaddaya mean, 'Votch vot yer doin'? It's pitch black in
here."
"Huh? You can't thee in here?"
"No! You mean to tell me you can?!"
"U'courthe! All dwarfth can. It'th how we can mine in the
darkneth," said Fluppenstimme.
"Well, why didn't you tell me a long time ago? You'll be
leadin' the way, shorty. Say, tell me what this room looks
like," said Marlowe as he sat down on the floor next to
Fluppenstimme and made himself more comfortable.
Fluppenstimme looked around at the high ceiling and the
walls at the far side of this great chamber. everything was
ornately carved and covered with dwarvish runes and symbols. He
noticed a hallway directly in front of the party. Thith mootht
be an entranth hall uff thum thort, he thought. The hallway
before them was the only passage out of the large room they were
in, save the doorway through which they'd entered.
The dwarf explained these observations to the Captain.
After he was done, the Captain stood and said, "O.K. men, we're
ready to move. One minor change: Porky'll be leading the way,
since he can see in the dark. Tok, I want you to keep a map of
the passages and rooms--in case we get lost. Now keep alert, and
be ready to defend yourselves."
Within a couple minutes the party was organized and heading
towards the one hallway which lead from the chamber they were in.
The only sound was the shuffling of feet and the dripping and
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squeeking noises of the abyss which surrounded them. No one
could see more than ten or eleven feet except Fluppenstimme.
Dread seeped from the rock and hovered in the air around them.
Each of them felt a need to escape. This place was
simultaneously confining and exposing. The men felt choked, yet
vulnerable.
They passed out of the great chamber and into the hallway.
The walls were black and slimy. They looked to have once been
clean-carven, now eroded by moisture and years of untold wear.
The passageway was at least fifteen feet wide and the ceiling
high enough to accomodate the tallest of creatures. The dwarves
had not been modest in designing their structures. Unfortunately
for them, however, dragons tended to like their spacious sub-
terranean condos, and more than a few times they were barbecued
in their homes by the fiery beasts.
The crew had walked a hundred yards or so when they entered
another large hall. Fluppenstimme described it to the men: It
eeth fery, fery beegk, with columnth und archeth. Thuh vallth
are decorated weeth carfingkth und pothterth of der Dwarfkingk.
Thuh far end of the hall ith a great platform, on top ith uh
throne. Thith mutht be where the people who vanted to trade
weeth der dwarfth came to thpeek weeth der Kingk.
"Do you have any idea where this Golden Rule is gonna be?"
asked Marlowe.
"There eeth uh rhyme, uf courthe, ath with all dwarfen
thingkth:
"Weetheen the horde oaf anthient treathure
Liethe the thacred Goldten Rule;
Take heed! Do not thuccumb to pleathure
Of the eye, nor greed, but thcool
Thy appetite to that
Which Timeless Tombs doth meathure;
Watthingk alwayth fire cruel,
Being careful not to drool."
"What does that mean?" asked Marlowe.
"I suggest we go to the back of the hall to see if there are
any clues," replied Pelegor. Everyone seemed to think this was a
fine idea, so they headed off across the great floor of this
particularly great hall.
No sooner had they begun to cross the great floor when
Sandaken cried: "Hey, something just grabbed my shoes!"
"Grabbed your shoes?!" yelled the Captain. "How can
something grab your shoes when you're standing up?"
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Just then, something grabbed Marlowe's shoes.
"Quick, everyone!" cried Pelegor. "Bend over and hang on to
your shoes! We're being attacked by shoeliebers!"
Everyone did as they were told, but it was too late. The
shoeliebers scurried about in the dark, slipping off the group's
shoes right under their very toeses. Everyone's shoes were gone
within seconds except for Fluppenstimme's, whose were taken off
and quickly replaced. Then, as suddenly as they had come, they
were gone, without a trace. The hall was silent, save the
distant clip-clop sound of many feet in new shoes.
"This hole truly is a place of evil," said Marlowe
profoundly.
The barefooted crew regrouped and continued across the
floor. The platform was smooth-carven of fine stone, about two
(shoeless) feet high. The throne, also wrought of stone, sat in
the very center of the platform and was raised another three
feet. On either side of the throne were great statues of dwarven
heroes and famous kings.
"What's that one?" asked Marlowe as he pointed to a large
figure of a dwarf in tights with a long cape trailing behind.
"Dot'th Vunderdwarf," said Fluppenstimme. "He vath an
egthile from Clapton, a great land uf Vunderdwarfth which vath
dethtroyed. He vath the only one to ethcape. Thadly, he vath
killt ven a large piethe of Claptonite hit him on der noggin."
"Hmm," said Marlowe in contemplation. "I wish we had
national heroes like that." He looked around the King's throne
with the rest of the men. "How does one go about finding the
King's hoarderoom? Seems like that would be the plce to look for
ancient treasure."
"Veel, Ee theenk ve should thearth around thuh throne for a
thecret button or thumthink."
So, Marlowe, Fluppenstimme, Sandaken, Pelegor, and Tok all
began searching around the throne and its base for some kind of
key, button, or other item which might reveal to them the
entrance to the King's hold. Some fifteen minutes went by and
they were about to give up, when Sandaken yelled: "Hey, Captain,
look here!" Everyone gathered around Sandaken as he pointed to
what looked like a large leather skin filled with air which was
resting on the seat of the throne. Marlowe picked it up and
examined it. It was similar in construction to a water skin,
except it didn't have a corked mouth. The front of the skin was
dyed brown, as are most water skins, but the back was tan and had
some lines drawn on it.
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"It looks to be some sort of map," said Pelegor.
"What do you make of it, Porky?" asked Marlowe.
"Weel, thir, Ee believe thuh Vithard in thaying it hath a
map on it. Ee em not thure of the purpothe of the thkin,
though," he said.
"Well," said the Captain. "I guess we'll just have to
follow it and see where it leads us. It's the only clue we've
got."
So they regrouped once again and walked to the back of the
chamber where they found an exit indicated on the map. Pelegor
commented that it must be truly powerful magic which could
preserve the glow of the red exit sign for so many millennia.
"Yeth, or fery thtrong batterieth," said Fluppenstimme.
The corridor which they entered was slightly smaller than
the one they'd been in before, and sloped downward. Several of
the men complained that the stone was cold and slimy on their
bare feet, and they wanted to back to the ship. Besides, they
said, we don't have any truly good leads, and we'll probably all
die down here in pursuit of some Golden Rule which will only
complete the first part of our whole journey in quest of the Evil
Symbol of Great Powere. So What do you say to that?
Marlowe reminded them that they'd be unimaginably wealthy if
they did find all they'd set out to find. He reminded them of
the glory and honor of heroic courage. He told them to remember
how they would be immortalized in song and poem for their great
endeavors. And besides, he said, you all crossed your hearts and
hoped to die, stick a needle in your eye.
And so, they plodded onward. They passed several side-
passages, but followed the map to the third branch to the left,
and down a winding stair. By now they were deep within the
mountain. Suddenly, the stair ended at a wall. They were all
cramped and becoming claustrophobic. There was no visible
doorway or sign of a secret passage.
"What do we do?" asked Marlowe.
"The map indicates that we pass through this wall, but I do
not know how we are supposed to do that. Let's look for secret
buttons again."
So Marlowe, Pelegor, and Fluppenstimme began to search. But
it was in vain that they labored. After thirty minutes of
fumbling in the dark, they had found nothing. The air was
begining to get stifling, the men were nearly to the point of
panic.
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Suddenly Sandaken called from the rear, up the stairs:
"Captain, I hear something coming from behind us!"
"O.K., men, rear attack position! Pelegor, why don't you
try some magic on this door? Fluppenstimme, do you have any
ideas?"
"Weel, Coptaine, mee father thed wunth--"
But he was cut short by a rumbling from above. Pelegor had
begun his spell, and the door was glowing. From up the stairway
came the sound of clanging metal. Their situation seemed
desperately lost.
"Marlowe, I'm afraid my spell won't work," shouted the
Wizard. "This wall is magically protected."
"Curse it to hell!!!" shouted Marlowe, and he grabbed the
mapskin from Fluppenstimme, threw it to the ground, and jumped on
it violently. When he landed on it, the air within the skin was
forced out through the opening and a deep, juicy, ripper of a
fart noise reverberated up the stairway. For a moment,
everything grew silent, and the wall before them turned dark
blue. In a moment, everyone had passed through the magic portal,
the attackers from the rear having fled, fearing the noxious
gases promised by the terrible spectre of flatulence which
escaped from the mapskin. The stone wall once more materialized
as the dazed party found themselves in a small chamber, about
twenty-five feet square.
What could possibly happen next? Marlowe thought to himself
as he regained his breath. What next indeed...?
END PART THREE