Copyright William Read 1998 - Send email if you like or dislike something to:
email: wrezzzad@ucsd.edu - (BUT remove the zzz in the address!)The Aimless Quest of Bungston Shag
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Chapter 14. Chapter 15. Chapter 16. Chapter 17. Chapter 18. Chapter 19. Chapter 20. Epilogue.Chapter 12
On arriving back at the grove to bed down for the night, they discovered that a hole had been ripped in Bungston's Voyageur pack where it rested on the ground, and his precious travelling gear had poured out. Blankets, pajamas, rubber tarantulas, and other vital equipment lay in a semi-circle around the hole, in various states of damage and discombobulation. Bungston picked up his giant bunjee cord, now reduced to a scramble of colorful elastic thread. "What the Spam Hill did this, Robigus? Did someone try to rob us? They did a pretty poor job of it."
Napoleon held up a catcher's mitt for inspection. "Look at this, Bung. Claw marks,"
He tossed it to Bungston who examined it briefly, then stowed it in Robigus' helmet for safekeeping. The wizard then pressed his ear to the ground, squinting in concentration. "You're right. These woods are crawling with crabs," he announced. "Lobsters too, most likely,"
Robigus was astounded to hear of crabs in this area, but Bungston insisted that they dig an anti-crab trench to preserve their belongings overnight. It did the trick, and they were not disturbed.
It was a fairly long trek to get to the catacombs, and then the adventurers had to search for the entrance that the blind scholar had specified. The area was full of overgrown chunks of marble, collapsed tunnel openings, and shallow man-made caves. Shrubs and weeds concealed most of the ruins, so the three spread out and began combing the area. Napoleon was first to find the entrance. It was a small square slab made of stone. A roughly chiseled lion's head roared in the center with a new-looking iron ring clenched in its mouth. There were no hinges on the slab; evidently the idea was that you pushed it straight forward to get in, and pulled it after you by the iron ring when you left. The bisected lozenge seal was affixed in several places around the edge of the door, but it was broken in every place.
Bungston didn't like this. "You know, I thought that old guy said that the seals were unbroken, that nobody used his entrance. But here they are broken."
Robigus frowned. "Well, he was blind. Perhaps he did not notice."
"He broke them himself," ground Napoleon in his best chainsaw rasp. "If he knew the loot was missing, he must have gone in to check, right? So he would've broken them all when he went in."
Bungston shuffled around sheepishly. "Not bad, Mr. Shaggy Ass Nuclear Physicist. Now make yourself useful and push on that rock." The burly St.Bernard obligingly put a shoulder to the stone and shoved. Alone he could barely move it, and Bungston and Robigus had to join in. "There's no way that old geezer got this open by himself," said Bungston, wiping the sweat from his noble nose. He looked at his mutant challengingly but this time Napoleon offered no explanations.
The room was good sized; someone could park a schoolbus inside, if he didn't mind losing paint. Sunlight poured through little chinks in the ceiling, and this with the sun from the opened entrance lit the interior fairly well. There was nothing in the room but a pile of rubble. Bungston walked over and stooped next to it. "Hey, our man told us right. Look at this." He held up an elegant bronze statue of a huntress, only about five inches high. "This was under a rock. There's more." There were shards from a shattered vase or urn, pieces of painted tile, and other remnants. "Someone was pretty clumsy about taking this stuff out."
"Or bringing it here", Robigus pointed out. "Remember, these things are mostly of historic significance, not material value. It may be that the bearers employed did not bother to take the care that they should."
"Yeah. Well, there must be a secret door around here." It was hardly secret, and easy to find. In the back corner of the chamber there was a hole in the wall about four feet high. It was a door that had been bricked up and then reopened, both in the distant past. On the other side the floor sloped away into a ramp leading down into darkness. Bungston peered into the gloom then grinned. "Just like old times. Here's where we go." The wizard got out his arc-light and aimed it into the opening. The far side of the portal remained dark. He fiddled with the switch, then shook the whole light, making an inauspicious rattle. Opening the light revealed a smoking black and orange crab which scuttled rapidly away.
"Eat the battery?" asked Napoleon.
"Yeah, it looks that way." Bungston sat on the ground for a moment and thought. Then he fished out one of the bulging brown filth balloons he had conjured up earlier and gently lowered it in into the empty lantern. The wizard produced his nifty nutmeg grater and grated a healthy dose of fresh nutmeg in on top of the balloon, then closed up the light. Bungston directed the refurbished light into the hole and flipped the switch. He was rewarded by a sudden plume of sparks which resolved into a warm yellow beam. "Chemical energy," he explained to his companions. "You just have to understand the principles involved. Ok, we're in business. Let's go!" Bungston entered the catacombs, the reborn arc-light lighting the way. Robigus followed. Napoleon paused to shuck his monk's robe to allow more freedom of movement. He tossed it in the corner where he had seen the crab hide, just in case the critter was still hungry. Then he too stooped through the hole in the wall.
The passage dropped steeply, then levelled out and turned. The walls were earthen in some spots but in most were faced with brick or terra cotta. The whole place smelled like Robigus' room back in Avalon. Roaches and pillbugs darted into crevices at their approach; Bungston was grateful for remembering to wear his boots after sighting a thumb-thickness centipede. After a few hundred yards there was a choice of staircases, then the passage split, then diverged into three. Occasionally they passed small alcoves containing skeletons, all of which were old and falling apart. Bungston led the way unerringly. After a half-hour of trooping along Bungston unerringly stopped and sat in an alcove, pushing over the bones in it to make room. "This is really, really boring. Boooring. In a good dungeon, we would have found some battle-sized beasts by now, or at least a cool trap. There's nothing in here but mongo bugs."
"I wouldn't be too sure," rumbled Napoleon quietly. "You smell that?" Robigus and Bungston sniffed mightily. Robigus smelled nothing, and Bungston smelled Robigus.Napoleon shook his great head. "Big animals, maybe more than one. Meat eaters, I'd say. Musky. Not too close, but they're down here somewhere."
Bungston whooped joyfully, making resounding echoes. "Yeah! What's a dungeon without some spooky beasties? We're on the right track - I bet the beasts took the treasure. I guess you should take the lead, Nap."
Napoleon backed up suspiciously. "No way," he growled firmly. "I'm not going to let some giant rat latch on to my leg. Bob's the one who's all suited up. He can go first."
Robigus valiantly agreed to this, and sword in hand, marched down the passage. Napoleon was second, and Bungston acted as rear guard. With Napoleon giving directions, they proceeded through a large circular room with frescoes on the ceiling and skeletons in alcoves all around the walls. The room was large enough that Bungston's light didn't penetrate to all the recesses. It took some searching, but Bungston eventually found some promising stairs leading down and out. A long trek later, they reached a giant vaulted passageway stretching off into darkness. Clumps of slightly phosphorescent fungi bulged out of crannies along the walls, and crawling cooties scurried across the floor. Bungston grabbed Robigus and Napoleon before they could enter. He pointed at the ground. "Check this out."
The dust in the room had been disturbed with many footprints. They were of a handlike foot. Bungston stooped to examine them, then rose nodding with satisfaction. "Yeah, there's your meat eater, Nap." He made with his eyebrow to add dramatic flair. "Killer apes."
Robigus indicated a sneaker tread print with the point of his sword. "What would this be?"
Bungston shrugged. "Ape with sensitive feet?" There were loafer prints here and there also. "Preppy ape? I don't know. Are they very close, Nap?"
The shaggy mutant paused a second. "No, none too nearby."
Bungston sighed. "Well, this thing is a poor substitute for my Nukomatic, but I guess I should have it handy." He pulled out the ivory-handled Colt.45 Peacemaker and loaded it up. "I hope it can stop a killer ape. I suppose we should follow wherever the tracks seem thickest; maybe we'll get to the ape treasure trove." They set off down the long corridor.
They had only gone ten yards when a huge form burst hissing from a side passage, two long tentacles snaking from its sides. Robigus was in the lead, and before the unfortunate warrior could wheel and bring his shortsword to bear he was pounced upon from the side. He hit the ground with a clank of armor and a gust of stale air, sliding across the flagstones to the far wall with his attacker on top of him. Napoleon and Bungston rushed to his aid, Bungston planting a good kick on the creature and then Napoleon sinking his paws deep into its body. It smelled rotten. Napoleon withdrew his paws covered with grayish slime. This panicked him for a second, visions of giant acid-spewing blobs racing through his head, but then he realized that the gray stuff was just moldy ooze and he wiped it off on Bungston's shirt. Bungston was watching the monster, and so did not notice. It was a very passive monster; after the intial attack it seemed content to just lie there snuggled up with Robigus. Robigus wriggled out from underneath the inert form, which smelled like a mulch pile and had the texture of a windfall plum. "This creature was very susceptible to mildews," observed Robigus.
Bungston borrowed Robigus' sword and jabbed at the heap, then made an effort to flip it over. From what was left it looked like it had had suckers on its tentacles, and maybe one eye. It was tough to tell. "I guess it was susceptible to mildew!" exclaimed Bungston. He looked at Robigus, impressed. "Why bother fiddling with this shrimpy sword when you can do that? There's nothing left!"
Napoleon sniffed at it, then backed away sneezing. "Sure isn't a ape."
Robigus brushed off his armor. "I fear it was more or less a reflex, to mildew it as I did. It must be some sort of plant being, it yielded so thoroughly; living animals generally do not mildew well." Bungston shaved his forearm thoughtfully with the clean base of Robigus' sword. "Good thing it attacked you. I mean, and not me or Nap - it would have stabbed those sucker tentacles in us before you could have helped out. Well, just be ready in case more of these plant critters show up."
Bungston and Napoleon stuck very close behind Robigus the rest of the way. One archway was more travelled than the others, so they chose that one, and indeed, another violent plant beast was lurking just inside. As it bounded out of its hiding spot Robigus met it with an open hand. The creature's momentum carried it across the passage, where it slapped into the wall and fell apart like a late autumn tomato.
Bungston whacked his knee in amusement. "Yeah! Those things are helpless against you, Bob! I hope they never learn their lesson and just keep coming and coming. Make good fertilizer out of them." After they had walked for about five more minutes the wizard made a megaphone with his hand and shouted into the darkness. "Oh Vehhhhge-ta-bles! Come out to plaaaaayyyy!"
Napoleon grabbed Bungston's shoulder in alarm and almost got a punch in the jaw for startling him. "Bung, you should get a spell going - those things I smelled before, that you said were killer apes -they're really nearby."
Bungston nodded and called out some mystical words. He was trying for a big bunch of magic bananas, but instead got a sombrero with wax fruit decorations, including bananas. "What is it with these sombreros?" he asked aloud. He carried it at the ready and they forged ahead.
It was not long before Napoleon stopped them, his hackles rising. "Guys, guys," he growled nervously. "Those apes are all around here. I can hear them breathing." The threesome formed a circle back to back and glared into the gloom for any hint of apes. It did not take Napoleon's ears to hear a definite low huffing coming from the lightless passages around them. Bungston took off his floppy hat and rubbed his crewcut frantically in an effort to produce more light.
"Yo, killer apes! A present for you!" Bungston hucked the sombrero with a wicked backhand, sending it Oddjob-style into a passageway. It sailed into the gloom. "Maybe these are strictly carnivorous apes. LASHES STRICTER BEECHWOOD LIQUOR FANCY GAGGING MATCHED AND SAGGING DONE UP TIGHT AND LATE AGAIN! WHEN! GO FOR CHOKE!" The breathing was getting louder. Ooks and eeks rife with menace lanced through the darkness. Bungston fired his pistol into the air lion-tamer style, hoping to buy a little time. "MUDTONE HAMBONE FLORIST MORE AND POOR PROGNOSIS FORCED TO THE CORE!" The threesome were caught from below by a huge monocle which rose up to the ceiling, carrying them on top. Napoleon ducked when it got near the ceiling but wound up getting hit on the head anyway. Then he dropped to his knees, and Robigus got thumped by the ceiling on his helmet, so he ducked too. Eventually all three were lying on their stomachs looking down at the floor below, their backs pushed into the fungus and cobwebs on the ceiling. Then the apes came out.
They were huge creatures, probably five feet when upright but even more massively built than Napoleon. They also had four arms apiece. They lumbered out of the darkness making ape sounds and beating their chests and congregated under the big lens. There they quieted down and craned their heads back to stare at the three adventurers. The adventurers lay on their stomachs and looked down through the lens into the seven simian faces below; the monocle's refractive powers made the apes seem to have faces hugely disproportionate to their more distant bodies. "So, Bungston, you going to do something?", asked Napoleon.
"Yeah." The wizard jostled Robigus. "Bob, cut the ribbon." There was an approprately proportioned velvet ribbon dangling from the edge of the monocle, and one or two curious apes had begun tugging on it. This made the whole monocle bob disconcertingly. Robigus reached over the edge with his sword and slashed it, sending it tumbling down for the apes to play with. Another ape, showing remarkable creativity, jumped up and slapped the monocle, which transmitted the force of the slap to the adventurers and mushed them against the ceiling. It was monkey see, monkey do, and soon all of the apes were jumping and slapping, babbling happily in ape talk. The adventurers had a rough ride on the other side of the monocle, and vision through to the floor was getting blurry due to many greasy handprints. Bungston shouted a rapid stream of verbiage, at varying volumes as his body cavity was compressed by the bucking glass platform.
When he finished, there was a warm sausage-scented breeze, and there appeared in the hall an automatic band from a German beer drinking hall, complete with accordion and mechanized tuba. Flashing red and blue lights attached to the machine switched on, and it proceeded to belt out a very loud polka. The apes scattered, shrieking in fear. "Nicely done, Bungston," Robigus shouted above the din.
Then the apes came back in a rush. They did not charge the machine and smash it to flinders, as Bungston had expected they would. They liked it. The four-armed monsters jumped up and down slapping the lens to the beat of the polka, whooping and cheering. When all of the apes hit the other side at once it was pretty brutal; only Robigus' armored body in the way kept them from being flattened. "Ok, Ok... Bungston squinted woozily, his spell reserve power running low. "FROTHING COUGHING BOFFING MUFFIN ROUGH TIME SLOUGH TIME BUT SHE DON'T SAY NUTHIN! NO REFUNDS!" This time a pink inflatable party doll appeared next to the music machine. She was oh so lifelike and more than life sized. One ape nearby reached out a spare hand and grabbed the doll, pulling it in for inspection. Then another ape reached out and grabbed on too, anxious to participate in this new game. The first ape stopped jumping around and grabbed the doll with another hand, then all four hands. Then it applied a foot. The second ape, irked at the first's greediness, howled and grabbed it with all four hands as well. It pulled hard, swinging the first ape by all of its four hands and the foot around into the bouncing slapping crowd of its peers. Amused by this new pink toy, a third ape grabbed it with one hand. Then it realized that it could not let go and that it was stuck to this thing and the other two apes, who were in the same predicament and were getting agitated. The third ape seized a fourth for leverage to try to pry his hand free, but wound up pulling this unwitting anchor backwards into the party doll, where it too stuck. Before they realized what was going on, all the apes were stuck to the party doll by various parts, and getting more stuck as they struggled. The growing mass accidentally bumped into the automatic polka machine too, swinging it around and slamming it into walls; this seemed especially hard on the tuba. After several minutes of this the exhausted ball of apes posed no threat, and the adventurers climbed off of the lens and jumped down to the ground.
Napoleon approached the ape heap, growling ferociously. A hapless ape looked up at the approaching mutant from where it was pinned under one of its relatives. "Doooood! Mellllooww!" Napoleon stopped in shock at this basso profundo pronouncement. Other apes craned their heads around and looked at Napoleon apologetically. "Ya dooood! Mellllowww!"
Bungston fingered his chin to spur some thought on what to do with the suddenly sentient apes. If he left them in a ball those walking vegetables would get them, and he couldn't allow that to happen to fellow primates. If these were even primates, with their four arms. Out of the the corner of his eye he detected motion, and he pivoted to face it.
The flashing lights of the polka machine illuminated an apparition in khaki expedition pants and a green Colorado sweatshirt. She had on night-vision goggles, canvas Adidas, and she carried an old fashioned bug duster. She brought the business end of this to bear on Bungston. "Not a word, dude," she spoke calmly above the polka, which was somewhat out of tune with itself due the wallops the tuba had endured. "Muffle time. That goes for all three of you." She swung the bug duster around, then stopped short on seeing Napoleon. She craned her neck and looked, then took off her goggles and looked again. "Nap? Naporillo? Is that you? B.T.? Guys! Wig me out! I'm so so sorry!" She set down the bug duster and ran over to Bungston, wrapping him in an enthusiastic hug. After embracing Bungston, she switched to Napoleon. The mutant grumbled happily. "Yeah, I thought I smelled you, but these stinky apes cover up everything..."
"I probably smell like an ape. I'm working on my extra arms." Irn's face radiated placidity despite her unusually sharp cheek and jaw bones. These features were countered by eyes that never quite opened past three-quarters, and wild dark brown hair that had undoubtedly been cut with a knife or some duller tool, like a spoon. "I should have known it was you, Bung. A polka machine. Not many conjurers around. Only one Nap, though." Napoleon confirmed this with pleasure.
Bungston sauntered over to the beat of the polka, a paragon of social grace. "Irn, I'd like you to meet my friend Robigus, god of war and mildew."
Irn shook hands with the tall gray warrior. "God of war and mildew, huh? You guys are moving up in the world, hanging out with... Wait... oh, wig me out! I know you!" She pointed at Robigus enthusiastically. "You're the founder of Rome! I saw a statue of you chewing on a wolf! The wolf didn't seem too pumped about it though. She was making a face like this." Irn showed her teeth and looked glum. She did not talk fast or loud, but her words had an inexplicable momentum that made her difficult to interrupt.
Robigus spread his palms in apology. "No, you have me wrong. You have mistaken me for Romulus; I am Robigus."
Irn patted him on an armored shoulder. "Well good. That Romulgus knifed his brother in the back, I think, so I'm glad you aren't him. He, I mean." She noticed the shoggoth spine hole in Robigus' shoulder plate when patting him there, and stuck her finger in it, prodding the mildew god's shoulder. "Is that you? This hole goes clean through. Did you get shot? Or is this so you can hang it up?"
The conversation was interrupted by low pleas from the ape ball. "Urrrn? Urrrn? Help, please." The four-armed behemoths waited patiently for rescue, cringing some from the trumpets and accordions playing directly into their ears.
Irn switched of the loud polka machine, causing Bungston to quit shuffling and dancing around. She looked at the bestial faces in the wriggling hairy heap. "I didn't catch how you did this, Bung. Paramagnetized? No, I bet it was glue."
"Close. I summoned a tar baby; seemed so much tidier than hacking and shooting like certain lesser dungeoneers do."
"Tar, huh? Tar tar tar. Brings back bad memories." The dungeon dweller fetched her bug duster again and set it into an improbable upright spin on the floor with a series of wrist flips. "Well, I'm glad you didn't shoot the big dodos. Tar baby. What would be good - acetone? No, too harsh. Turpentine?" Without waiting for an answer she tapped the revolving bug duster rhythmically with fingers and feet, then reversed the direction of spin, then picked it up again and adjusted the spray orfice.
"Yeah, that would work," answered Bungston a little late. "Be a good cologne for these killer apes too."
From the smell which soon arose, the bug duster reservoir was full of turpentine, and Irn used it to discharge small amounts where it was needed on stuck hands and feet. Robigus tapped Napoleon. "That device is the same one that she directed at Bungston in threat, yet now she uses it on these apes with no harm. Was she merely bluffing?"
Napoleon shook his head; he was watching the growing number of liberated apes with some concern. The mutant dog was at least two feet taller than the tallest, but the apes were knotted with muscles and each had four good hands while Napoleon could only bite and pummel. His dog ancestry kept him edgy around these strong smelling and possibly hostile creatures. "Nah, she's not a bluffer. No poker face at all. That squirter was probably full of white phosphorus when she came."
Bungston came over to the two after a brief conference. "Irn's going to take us to her camp. She knows about that blind old guy's treasure." Irn had her night-vision goggles on again, and she came over to point out the way. The apes travelled in formation around the foursome, with two on point, two on either side, and three behind; when the corridor narrowed the apes to the sides moved up or back. They were very organized and silent except for their heavy breathing. Several times during the walk a plant beast like the ones Robigus had dispatched earlier moved toward the group out of the gloom. They were humanoid with single pupilless eyes, and they would hop along in front or in back for a while, then move back into the darkness. Bungston nudged their hostess and pointed to one of these creatures, bouncing along about ten feet ahead of the lead apes. "You know, a couple of vegetable varmints jumped us on our way down. But they don't seem too aggressive to you or your apes; you have an understanding with them?"
"Yeah, I guess. Can't be fighting when you're practically roommates. But they're unpredictable. You remember Haberdash Jack? Hab was here a few months ago, and when he gave one a flat Nehi grape it took about two pints out of him. Real serious about carbonation."
Bungston wrinkled a nostril. "So, they're bloodsuckers, huh? I thought so. You know, with the four-armed white apes and the vampire plants, this is very reminiscent of something..."
"No doubt, no doubt. No big-boobed women in scanty harnesses down here though, excepting me. Heh!" Irn was by no means poorly endowed, but the Frazetta females populating paperback covers did not usually wear baggy sweatshirts. "No green bugeyed giants, either. Not that I've seen. I guess old Ed got those from somewhere else. So, did you make a spell to ace the plant men who picked on you? I find ethylene works real well. Calms them right down. And as a bonus: they aren't bad in olive oil with basil. Hard to get basil down here, though."
Bungston pointed to Robigus. "We left all herbicide duties to the man with the hands." He showed Irn the moldy patch on his own arm, which had regrown to a half-inch height. "People don't make you a mildew god just because you smell funny." Bungston squinted at a plant creature hopping through the gloom ahead. Its tentacles writhed snakelike at its sides, and it had a leafy mane of thin tendrils. Could this be the strange creature he had seen confronting the demon in Angar Firestorm's crystal ball?
The area that Irn inhabited was a far cry from the rest of the catacombs; it was clean and well lit by overhead fluorescent bulbs. There was a homemade power plant made from a large bronze amphora, with several silver fuel tanks attached, and a lounge with cushions and a fancy looking rug. Irn settled onto a cushion and motioned for the others to do the same. "So, I'm really glad you guys showed. How come you never came to visit before, huh?" She pointed at Bungston and Napoleon accusingly with her chin.
Bungston shrugged and picked stuffing out of a cushion. "I didn't know you were here. I thought you were still in Connecticut."
"Oh! You won't believe this story! I was dinking around with a fairy ring, like I always do. So I get here. I walked around a little bit - and this was up there in the air, now; the right rings always are - and when I get back some rabid goat has rolled around on the ring! Totally mushed up! The ring was; I couldn't catch the goat so it was OK, I guess. So I figured, just wait a while, but the one I came in on was the only good one I ever found. The rings around here are mundo bizarro. I don't know, maybe it's too much agriculture. Nothing really nifty grows anymore."
Bungston shook a finger at her. "I wouldn't trust those fairy rings with my worst cuspidor. You can make a ring with a bag of fertilizer and a dead cat, and then who knows where it will take you."
Irn waved him off. "So anyway, at first these apes thought I was Beazlebag, but now they're pretty nice. And I still do the exploration thing, so there's lots of room to wander around, and what's going to bother you when you've got an ape squad around you? Something rock stupid, that's what." She paused a moment. "Or damn big. You've still got to be careful. I was ready to bail and take a break months ago, but Haberdash Jack couldn't bring me with him. He goes naked, you know. Which is OK, except he stretched out the pants he borrowed, and now I have to wear a belt. Plus he couldn't take me with when he left." An ape shuffled in with a basket full of grape sodas and carefully distributed them. Irn spun hers on the floor and then stopped it with a tap before opening it. "So how did you fish get here? Still on the Black Sea? I could gain serious benefit from some sun. You lose your circadians down here in the dark."
Napoleon was unable to open the pop top on his can, so he began his own grinding narrative since Bungston cheeks were bulging with soda. "Bung here got called on to do a quest for this magic object. We got gold, and Bob to help. We got this great machine, too, and that's how we got here."
Bungston piped up. "We tracked our quest thing to Rome, and then this old blind guy said that he stashed it in the catacombs, but it was gone. Is that what you've got? Did you steal his stuff? An old blind guy?"
Irn hucked a pillow at the whining wizard. "Don't you put any guiltiness on me! If someone had a crate of goodies and left it on your porch, if you took it inside would that be stealing? No. More like a favor!" Even when indignant or excited Irn still seemed mellow; her attitude was diametrically opposed to Bungston's constant state of over-energized sloth.
Bungston slapped the hurtling pillow in the air, altering its course to land on Napoleon's head. The mutant was still struggling with his can of soda, and did not retaliate. "Well, I'm glad you took it, and kept it safe. I think the thing we're after is a magic adze, you know, like a hatchet, but curved differently - plus this particular one is imbued with terrible and ancient power." Bungston worked his monobrow and his voice grew dramatic. "It has been a long and treacherous journey, fraught with danger..."
Irn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, stow it. I bet you guys probably laid around on the beach until five days ago."
"More like seven." Napoleon cringed under Bungston's glare. "Well it's true!" he ground. "It was pretty fraught with danger, though. There was shoggoths."
Irn thought for a moment, then finished her can and stood up. "Well, if you want, we can go take a look to see if your hatchet is in with the rest of the treasure."
Two apes joined them as they left Irn's residence proper and went back into the unimproved tunnels. A plant creature soon began skulking along ahead of them. Napoleon skipped away from the apes, which wanted to sniff him, and took a place at Bungston's side. "Bung, doesn't this seem like cheating to you? I mean, this isn't a real dungeon-bust, what with tame monsters and all. And here Irn's just going to hand us our quest thing."
The wizard grabbed Napoleon's still unopened can of soda and shook it vigorously as he walked. "Yeah, maybe if we were being rewarded beyond my wildest dreams by the hour, you'd be right. But I think a week's worth of questing is just plenty. Now watch this." Bungston gave the grape soda a few more shakes and pointed up ahead at the plant creature. Then he pitched the can skipping along the floor toward it. Napoleon had been the butt of this type of prank before, and he giggled gruffly in anticipation. The plant beast picked up the can with a tentacle. A second later, it set the can back down and slid away into the shadows.
"That was rather anticlimactic," observed Robigus. "Is there more to come?"
Bungston was examining the can, which had a neat triangular hole punched in the side. "Shotgunned the whole thing," he murmured. "And warm, too,"
Irn forged ahead, carrying a kerosene lantern. "Damn straight. And if they get that sucker in your carotid, they'll do the same to you. That one a few weeks ago would have drunk Haberdash Jack dry if his blood alcohol hadn't stunned it."
Bungston patted one of the white apes on the head. "Buddy," he proclaimed, and offered nutmegs all around. The nutmegs had all been previously chewed, so only the apes took him up.
It turned out that there was really not much treasure in the room. There were a few statuettes similar to the huntress Bungston had found by the entrance. Irn said that she had taken all the stuff that might be of use in her place, so any goblets or chalices were gone. There were a few unornamented robes, some suits of armor, and a fair number of miscellaneous weird artifacts: finger bones, vertebrae, locks of hair, and splinters of wood made up the bulk of these. Napoleon rummaged through a pile of splinters, some in plain boxes, and others loose. "The adze has got to be somewhere around here. These splinters are a good clue."
"Probably hunks of the Cross, or some other historical things." Bungston was gingerly looking over the largest part of the artifacts, a stack of written material.
Robigus walked over and picked up a scroll, the bottom of which fell off in his hand. "Since it does not appear that the adze is in this lot, it may be that something here may aid our search. The climate certainly has not been kind to this vellum, though." Mildews and damp had indeed taken a toll on the written works.
Bungston picked up a marble tablet commemorating some official, then set it back down. "Yeah Bob, this is probably what Mr. Erskine's library looks like after you got through with it." Bungston sat dejectedly on the tablet and frowned at Irn. "You know Irn," he whined, "I was thinking there would be a lot more relics of the substantial sort here. Like emeralds and stuff. But there's really nothing but this moldy paper and those scraps." Bungston gestured toward the wood chips and bones, then sank his head into his hands and started to mutter.
Irn walked over and pulled up a marble tablet herself. "Well, Bung, I wanted to check here first, but there is another place where we had to bring a lot of this loot." Bungston looked up hopefully. "Remember I told you I roam around down here a lot? Well, about three or four miles from here and a ways farther down, there's a lot of big natural caves and things. There's also a bunch of really old stuff; I think maybe there used to be a city underwater, but the water level went down."
Bungston eagerly interrupted. "Cool. And you brought the goodies there?"
Irn nodded but held up a hand. "Well, yes, but not by choice. It was sort of a ransom thing. I got caught, so I sent the apes back and told them to bring down anything with jewels or gold on it. That's why so many of those hair tufts and slivers are loose - we had to give up the nice cases they were in. Plus a lot of other treasure I had scrounged out of the upper tunnels."
Napoleon had been hunched behind Irn for the last part of this. "And what caught you?" he whispered. His whisper was so gravelly that no-one could understand him, but Irn was about to answer that question anyway.
"It was a dragon. A big one, with a serious treasure stash. That's another reason I'd like to take off; I'm worried that now it knows I'm here, it might come up to see if there's any more loot."
"A dragon!" yowled Napoleon, scaring away an ape which had sidled up to him. "Great! I was positive you were going to say a shoggoth or a protoplasmic pudding or something. We can deal with a dragon, huh Bung?"
Irn looked over at Napoleon. "This isn't your run-of-the-mill dragon, Nap."
Bungston snorted. "Yeah, show me a run-of-the-mill dragon. In fact, show me the mill. We'll cope."
Irn declared that food should come before any dragon busting, and Napoleon backed her up heartily. Several cans of Nehi grape were hacky-sacked around by the versatile adventuress, and when she finished they turned out to contain an excellent red wine, which she transferred to a crystal chalice. Unfortunately, dinner itself was a sweet but flavorless paste. "Sorry about this, guys, but it's the best I can do. Solids are tricky." The apes came up for their helpings of the stuff too, which Irn dispensed through the nozzle of her bug duster in long thin strips. Bungston broke out his nifty nutmeg grater and set to work, and all present had to admit that the potent powder vastly improved the meal. The apes especially doted on nutmeg, and these intermittently sent a shuffling spokesman to beg for more throughout dinner.
As was usually the case when he was full of food, Bungston became a strong advocate of careful planning and philosophizing, neither of which required that he move much. The company retired to the room full of cushions. Irn had a little enamel comb that she used to work out the pigeon guano matted into Napoleon's back fur, but her ministrations soon left the mutant dead asleep. Bungston insisted that he be allowed to think over their situation in peace for a moment or two, and proceeded to gape at the ceiling. The heavy dinner paste even tranquilized energetic Robigus, and soon all four were slumped un the cushions.
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