The Nomad - By Simon Hawke Page 0,47

prefer the stone tavern,” Sorak said after pretending to consider his choice for a moment.

“No, not I!” the dwarf fighter replied. “I do not believe that is the proper choice at all. It is the walled house for me.”

“I cast my vote for the walled house, as well,” the templar said, nodding agreement with the dwarf fighter.

“And I, also,” said the cleric firmly. “I favor the tavern,” said Valsavis. “Three against two,” the dwarf fighter said, shaking his head. “You are outvoted.”

“Is there anything in the rules that says we must all make the same choice together every time?” Sorak asked, breaking character for a moment to ask for clarification.

The gamemaster raised his eyebrows. “No,” he replied, “there is not, unless I have specified it in setting forth the situation.”

“I will choose the tavern then,” said Sorak.

“And I will go there with him,” said Valsavis.

“And the rest of you?” the gamemaster asked, again revealing nothing by his tone.

“It is their funeral,” said the dwarf fighter. “I still choose the walled house.”

The others all agreed and made the same choice.

“Interesting,” said the gamemaster with a faint smile, still giving away nothing. “Very well, then. The dwarf fighter, the templar, and the cleric proceed to the walled house, while the druid and the mercenary pan company with them to go inside the tavern. The first three reach the walled house, open the heavy iron gate, which takes an effort, as the hinges are very old, and they enter the courtyard, carefully closing and fastening the gate behind them. There does not appear to be anything of any interest or significance in the courtyard, so they proceed to the front door.” He paused. “What happens now?” he asked.

“Detect magic,” said the cleric quickly.

“You detect none,” said the gamemaster flatly.

“I examine the door carefully to see if it contains any nonmagical traps,” the cleric said, then quickly added, “I had learned to do so from watching the thief before.”

“You find none,” said the gamemaster.

“I find none, or there are none?” asked the cleric.

“You find none, and there are none,” said the gamemaster.

“Very well, we go inside,” the cleric said, satisfied.

“The templar, the cleric and the dwarf fighter open the door and go inside,” the gamemaster continued, “closing it behind them and throwing the heavy bolt.

It takes an effort to move the old bolt, but after a few moments, they manage to force it through. They are now in the dark central hall of the house. All around is dust and sand and cobwebs. It is very difficult to see.” The gamemaster paused again and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner.

“I light a torch I have brought with me,” said the templar.

“Very well,” the gamemaster said. “The torch is lit. Before you is a wide and winding staircase that leads to the upper floors and the towers at the east and west wings of the house.” He paused again and looked at them expectantly. “I think we should go up to one of the towers,” said the templar. “It would afford us a better view of the outside, and we would be in a more defensible position.”

“But which tower?” asked the cleric. “The one at the east wing? Or the west?”

“Perhaps it doesn’t make a difference,” said the dwarf fighter.

“Perhaps it does,” the cleric replied. “It is not yet sundown,” said the templar, “so we are still safe from the undead. And we have fastened the iron gate and bolted the heavy wooden door. If, by some chance, there are any undead within the house, they will not be about yet. We still have some time to search. We could split up and check both towers to see which would be the more secure. And I have brought more torches with me,” she added quickly.

The gamemaster nodded, indicating that was accepted.

“Very well then, I shall elect to check the east tower,” said the dwarf fighter.

“You are stronger and more able than I,” the cleric said. “I will go with you.”

“And I will examine the west tower,” said the templar, “after giving you two a torch to take with you.”

“Very well,” the gamemaster said. “You have split up. You take the winding stairs and ascend to the upper floors. The templar takes the corridor leading to the tower in the west wing, while the cleric and the dwarf fighter take the opposite corridor, leading to the tower on the other side. Simultaneously, you arrive at the tower entrances, which have heavy wooden doors.”

The gamemaster paused.

“We