antfight-icon.jpg (15759 bytes) Click for larger version

The Adventures of Brian Hammerhand

PROLOGUE

    Landfall at last!
    Don’t get me wrong, now, chum. Shipboard life can be enjoyable. You meet a lot of interesting people—thieves, exiles, fugitives, and the like—most of them as willing as Ito gamble a week’s wages on a cast of the bones. And so far as I can tell, being swallowed by a sea serpent can’t be much different from being chewed up by any of the foul creatures on Geb’s good earth. It’s just that I’m infantry born and bred, and you can’t ground your spear against a charge at sea. Besides, this leather armor may float all right, but it wouldn’t stop a wasp sting, much less a pirate’s arrow.
    Staggering down the gangway—my legs yet unaccustomed to treading a stable surface—my ears were assaulted by raucous mixture of music and shouting carried downwind from the only tavern in evidence. Our port of call was a poor excuse for a hamlet, it appeared, but at least it didn’t pitch and yaw every time the gods of the sea got playful.
    When I moved closer, I saw an inscription on a worm eaten piece of planking hanging above the open doorway: The Wallowing Whale Tavern. From within the shabby, red clay building at odd intervals bellows of “Ale! Ale!” rose above the din. With the luck of the dice running against me lately, I was just about down to my last copper. Still, I was thirsty, and my purse would get no fatter without help. Shrugging, I went in to see what passed for a drink in this forgotten armpit of the continent.
    As I expected, the place was no better inside than out. Half-barrels served as tables, and the seating ranged from milking stools to shipping crates to the red clay floor itself. Nestling into the red powder at a table occupied by an unconscious seaman, I peered through the gloom and smoke for the serving wench. I spied her slowly wending her way through the press, and staggering under the weight of two over full serving trays. Comely once, I guessed, she now looked as run down as the tavern itself.
    As the wench neared my table, I cried, “Ale!” My voice, loud enough to be heard, was echoed by a moan from my unconscious companion. flipping one of my last copper pieces down her bodice, I reached for the only clay mug with no flies on its rim.
    I was intercepted in mid reach by a massively thewed arm thrust toward the tray by a giant of a man sitting at a nearby table. In his haste, the fellow succeeded only in upsetting the tray showering us both with ale. Cursing the clumsiness of the serving girl, he leaped to his feet and struck her. Bone yielded with a snap, and her arm hung limp. A drop of blood welled where her teeth held her lip, but she made no outcry.
    "Geb's beard," I swore grimly, as he still berated her. "Wouldst care to try that with one less frail, chum?"
    As all eyes turned to me, I studied my opponent briefly ere he lunged. I saw no promise in assaulting either the huge hairy chest or the treestump hairy legs, so I ducked under his outstretched hairy arms and smashed my gauntletted fist into the side of his snarling, hairy face as he went past. His momentum carried him over my table and head first into the wall. The old building shook. He bounced halfway back to his feet before sliding slowly down to rest cheek to cheek with the drunken sailor, who greeted him with a belch.
    "Anyone else?" I asked the crowd. There was a deal of talking, but none stepped forth. "Not against a man with a hammer for a hand," one muttered.
    I bent down and tugged loose a heavy purse from the hairy man's belt. Turning, I flipped it toward the serving maid's good hand. "Take a holiday," I suggested, as she caught it. She nodded, still without speaking, and I took myself off before the fellow's friends if he had any could gather their courage.
    I was walking toward the docks, half regretting giving away what felt like a goodly sum when my own purse was near empty, when I heard footsteps behind. In a heartbeat I was flattened out behind a building, my dagger in my hand. The wisp of a lad who turned the corner jumped when he saw me waiting. He looked as harmless as a heifer, but I growled, "Well?"
    Eying the scowl on my face and my naked blade, he suddenly burst out, "Yawannagitrich?"
    "Geb's beard," I muttered, sheathing my dagger. "Who doesn't?"
    As we strode off down a dirt lane, he elaborated on his proposition. I was silent until we stood before the gate to a well kept yard fronting a small, wooden shack. "We're there," said the lad.
    After a time, I shrugged and give him my last two copper pieces, It was little enough, and, if the tale be true, I wouldn't miss it. If not, I'd take it out of his hide, if need be and he knew it. I left him then and strode up to the house of Merlis, a mage of little account (so said the boy) and what passed for the wise man of the village now that priests of Geb stayed away. It was Merlis who told me the rest....

THE LEGEND OF THE RUINS OF APSHAI
    For more generations than any man now living could count, this entire corner of the continent was devoted to the worship of Geb, god of the earth. Into the area came worshippers of Apshai, the insect god, who claimed knowledge far in advance of that possessed by the followers of Geb. However, it was widely known that this knowledge came from dark and sorcerous practices, and the Gebite priests, fearing the results of their grisly rites, led their people to drive the outlanders from the village.
    Fleeing south, the Apshaians were shortly halted by a vast, uncrossable swamp. Unable to return to the Gebite village, and unwilling to essay the perils of the swamp ahead, the high priest of Apshai prayed to his patron for guidance.
    Scarcely had he begun his devotions when he was interrupted by the intrusion of a young girl who said that her brother had fallen into a pit and did not answer her calls. Although the priest was wrapped in his own concerns, he did direct some of the others to search for the youth, but they returned at nightfall, defeated, convinced the pit must be bottomless. Nor had Apshai seemed to respond to the priest's prayers.
    Then, shortly after dawn the following morning, the boy wandered into the pilgrim camp, cut and contused, but without serious injury. Not only had the lad returned safely, but Apshai seemed to have used him to give the solution to his people's plight.
    The pit may indeed have been bottomless, but the boy had landed on a shelf not too far below the surface, unconscious. He had come to after nightfall and had wandered in the dark through a series of caves, eventually coming upon a larger cavern with a salt water beach. There he had collapsed to the sand, too weary to continue. He awakened to a light touch only to see a six foot long ant towering over him. Despite his beliefs, he fled this manifestation into the water
    As his swimming brought him nearer to the furthest wall of the cavern, he noticed the water had assumed a greener hue. Beneath him a glow spread into the murky depths within the cavern. He dove and swam into the brightness.
    When he surfaced, drawing in great lungs full of fresh sea air, he rejoiced in the restoring warmth of the sun. As he climbed the rocky face of the overlooking coastal bluff, he noticed that the water was receding. The clump of red seaweed which had caressed him as he swam out of the cavern was now hanging limp from the cliff face.
    The boy led his people back to the spot. Behind the drape of seaweed, they discovered a narrow cleft in the rock. They had found their new home.
    In the caves beneath the coastal bluff, the Apshaians set to planting the strange crops they knew would flourish in the underground environment. They hewed out new passages and reaped the harvest of gems and gold they found in their new cavern kingdom. They prospered, and their numbers swelled. The power of Apshai grew in the land. Finally, they were even accepted by the Gebite priests, who were won over by the tribute of gems and incense sent to them every year.
    The Gebite people, however, grew sorely fretful. While none knew the details of the dread Apshai rites, dark rumors abounded, and every year young people disappeared. The priests of Geb, well satisfied with their new wealth, ignored their pleas, for nothing could be proven. By themselves, the people prayed for three years while the temple of Apshai was constructed within the cavern by the sea. They prayed for two years more while a plague of insects from the swamp beset them. They prayed for five years more, while the priests of Geb continued to burn Apshaian incense moss during the Gebite rites, even though crops failed and animals were barren.
    Finally, the people's prayers were answered.
    One morning, as the priests began their regular devotions, the earth trembled beneath them, and a deafening roar was heard throughout the land. Stumbling out of their tottering temple, the shaken priests were greeted by the tumbled ruins of what had once been their town.. Following the cries of the villagers, they hurried to the shore and ran up the beach toward the coastal bluff. When they reached the entrance in the cliff face, a thin streamer of dust was filtering from within. They peered in and, where the mighty temple of Apshai had stood against the far wall, they now saw only a vast slide of fresh earth.
    Over the years, the village was rebuilt, and the Gebite priests renewed their power over the common folk. For many years the caverns remained seldom visited and always undisturbed, Generations passed, and memories faded into legend.
    Then, during the reign of high priest Nemdal Geb, a movement was begun to excavate the old temple in search of the legendary gems and gold of the Apshaians. A noted engineer was hired, and first the ancient temple and then the ancient passages, one by one, were cleared. The underground gardens, with their strange, sunless growths, were rediscovered, as were the shops and, finally, the mines of the Apshaians. Nemdal Geb decided to continue the excavation in hopes of recovering the lost knowledge of the Apshaians. This proved to be an ill fated decision indeed,
    Shortly after the fourth passage was cleared, work parties began to disappear Soon no one would enter the fourth passage, and eventually the other passages and the temple cavern itself became unsafe. Commerce dwindled, and the population waned. The town was again facing disaster In response to the people's out cries, Nemdal Geb led the other priests of Geb and the strongest warriors of the town in a quest to end forever the curse of Apshai. They entered the fourth passage, and none returned.

EPILOGUE
    "And now, my friend," Merlis continued, "only the bravest or most foolhardy dare enter the cavern under the coastal bluff when the tide is at its ebb, and few of them return. Those who do grow in legend to proportions men of mere flesh and blood could never hope to realize. My friend, this village is dying, and its people with it. Soon the last will fall to the curse of Apshai, and only the doers of great deeds shall be remembered." He turned his gaze to me. "Dare you join them in search of the lost wealth still, if the legends speak true, hidden there?"
    "Geb's beard," I murmured.