The Skalawags

5. Rest

They enter a luxurious bed chamber. A large circular bed fills the centre of the floor covered in satin sheets with a chequered red and black pattern. On the walls are many shelves, all containing miniature models of towns and villages. The far wall has long grey billowing curtains upon it. There is a dressing table with various bottles, vials and instruments for makeup. Three pedestals hold a interesting items on prominent display.

The Mole heads straight over to a sparkling short sword, its blade is etched with mysterious runes and there is a massive green emerald set on the pommel. He grabs the handle and lifts the sword high, swinging it through a series of movements to test its weight. The sword starts to quietly sing. Its voice is pleasant and grows in volume the harder he swings it.

"Cool, a singing sword. What do you all think?"

"How come you find all the good stuff? Check out this mirror." Aehorn moves to another pedestal and grabs the mirror resting upon it to look at herself. "What magic has this got?"

As she looks upon her own shimmering reflection it begins to warp and distort. Showing her image in the most grotesque and hideous ways. Aehorn throws the frame to the floor in disgust. "Should have known not to look at mirrors in this place after last time!"

On the last pedestal sits a small porcelain teacup. "I take dis. Want magic item I do." Doug stuffs the cup into his pack. "Verigar, what you doin'?"

The Dwarf has jumped onto the bed and appears to have closed his eyes for a nap. "These are soft sheets worthy of a royal bed." He mumbles.

The Mole moves over to rub the sheets between his fingers. "Hmm, with the size and quality probably worth about 100 gold new. Get up Verigar and stuff them in your pack."

The Dwarven fighter looks up at them all. "Don't any of you need a rest. You should always grab a rest during battle wherever you can."

"You make good point little big man. I rest now. Do hard work out earlier. Muscles need time to recover." Doug sits down on the floor and takes a snack from his pack.

The others decide a short rest is a good idea and they lounge around.

Chester takes a closer look at the models. They are intricately made and show a variety of towns in minute detail. The on near the foot of the bed catches his eye. It appears to be slowly moving, small pieces detaching themselves and then reassembling, slowly a small town is forming from a blank rough block. "Here lady, Aehorn isn't it? What do you make of this?" He waves Aehorn over.

"That looks just like Oakcrest, a miniature version of our town. It must have something to do with all this madness in here." She grabs her dagger and viciously hammers at the miniature town. It breaks apart into many small shards but as soon as she stops smashing, it begins to float up into the air, reassembling itself once again into the town they hail from.

When she looks at the other models, she realises that she recognises some of them as well, familiar from her travels. "Oh gods. This must be towns that Tasha has visited. The people she must have taken..." Even worse than this unfinished thought was the fact that stacked neatly in the corner were many more blank blocks yet to be moulded.

**

As Verigar drifts into a warrior's shallow sleep he begins to dream.

He sees himself standing in an encampment of warriors from his clan. They are in the lands near his home in the hills. A messenger runs up to him. "Sir the reports say that the trolls have grouped together and are heading towards us. What are your orders?"

Verigar begins to suck at his pipe as he paces. "So, they want vengeance for some past trouble. They are heading towards the canyon lands hoping to take the quickest route passed us to take out our families. I say sent the rear guard to stand with the old and the young we left behind. Move the main force into the canyons where we can hold a defensible line against them. All crossbowmen to the rock above for an ambush. Let's try that."

"Sir, are you sure? Shouldn't we attack them before they reach the canyons where we can surround them and separate them. Take them down one at a time." The messenger looked unsure of himself.

"No, No. In the open the trolls will be able to escape or break through our flanks."

**

Verigar's eyes snapped open. 'They will be torn to pieces. They need the rear guard to bolster their numbers and, in the canyon, the tough hides of the trolls will protect them from crossbow bolts it would be a massacre.' He needed to get back to himself.

***

As Chester dozed, he dreamed.

He sat in his usual chair overlooking the factory. Another large order has come in from the kingdom and it was all hands to the tools as the workers scurried to fulfil the order.

"Come on son, play a tune to rouse the workers, you know they work best to a rhythm. When you play we always get 20% more productivity. Without you, we won't make the order in time." His Mother pleaded with him.

"All right, all right I'll give it a go. Music was never really my thing. Did I tell you about my designs for flying gnomes?"

"Stop stalling Chester and play. That's an order." His mother's tone left no argument.

He stood up and began to sing.

His voice had no confidence and his tuning was out, but the words were catchy.

A nearby worker began to clap along.

He sang louder repeating the chorus again. Other workers began to sing along. Slowly at first but then with more and more pace, workers turned from their tasks to join in his song. A party atmosphere was erupting around the room.

"No, no! What are you doing? They need to work.. ."

***

Chester woke up with a start. This would not do. He needed to be home to help the family business.

"Gods, this bed is awful. It keeps moving. It was sort of nice to start with but now I feel seasick. Mole, help me to take the sheets off, can you?" Verigar staggers to his feet and begins hauling the sheets from the bed, which Mole stuffs straight into his pack.

They stand back in horror at what they see.

The bed itself is constructed from some sort of magical shield which ripples and moves as faint green forms within push against the boundary containing them. Those who had faced Deggimir recognised them immediately. Souls.

Trapped souls.

The mole reacted immediately, drawing his new sword which began to sing with many discordant voices. "Smash it and release the souls!" He yells in time with the pulsing music of his sword.

He and Verigar reign down blow after blow on the magical barrier until it weakens and shatters. "Thank you..." The souls whisper as they float free, disappearing into the ether.

"I not rest here anymore. Must find way out before I go crazy." Doug moved to head to the next door.

"Wait a moment will you." Verigar motioned for Doug to stay. "I must leave, I am not the Verigar you need."

"I'm not the Chester who belongs here either." Pipes in the young gnome.

Verigar reaches into his pack and pulls out a shard of glass from the mirror room. He looks into it and puts his palm against it.

"I'm glad to see you all again. I never want to fight another troll as long as I live." Verigar Threadseeker was back. He throws the shard of glass onto the floor and raises his boot to smash it beneath his heal.

Chester suddenly dives across the floor to grab the shard. As he rolls away from Verigars impending boot it is obvious to all his friends that he is the tinkering youth they all know.