Sea of Death

Even as the creature's lifeless head sank into the dust, Gord was looking around anxiously in hopes of detecting another of the things before it struck by surprise. The cloud of dust and ashes was too thick to allow him to really prepare for another attack, but fortunately none came. "Delver, can you tell what's going on?" he shouted as the dwarf tugged his beaked hammer free from the now-still head.

"Like I can tell what's goin' on behind a wall o* gneiss," he called back. "Let's see what this'll do to improve my view," the dwarf added as he crawled upon the back of the dead dustfish.

"Well?" said Gord after a couple of seconds. When the dwarf ignored him, he got more emphatic. "Well, what do you see, damn it?"

"Dip me in boiling batshit!"

"I just might do that!" Gord shouted to the dwarf.

Delver turned around and gri

Gord waded through shin-deep powder in the direction Delver was gazing. In a minute he could indeed see that there were several of the gwahasti intent on feeding upon a dustfish, and he thought the dark, moving shapes just beyond his clear range of sight were probably more of the reptiles at work on another of the huge millipedes. Then, as the shape of a man plodded into view on his left, Gord got an even bigger surprise.

"Gord Zehaab! You are alive!" squealed Dohojar as he closed the distance between them.

"You bet your brown ass I am, you little Changa monkey! How in the hells did you manage to survive, though?" he cried, actually hugging Dohojar as he spoke.

"Easy, Zehaab. The stupid creature smashed his head upon a big rock, and while he was trying to clear his brain, I shot him full of magic missiles from this wand… which now seems to be depleted, I am sad to report."

"Bugger the bit of bone," Gord said, grabbing the wand and tossing it into the dust. "That sort of stuff we can always get, but good men like you are irreplaceable."

Dohojar was embarrassed and delighted all at once. "Oh, no. I am of no importance at all, but I am very glad the Zehaab Captain thinks well of me."

Barrel, Post, and Smoker appeared on the scene, looking left and right in amazement. Now that the dust had mostly settled again, they could see the shapes of a pair of dead dustfish in the vicinity and two others being eaten by the hungry lizards farther off. All three of them spoke virtually at once, asking what had happened. Then Dohojar, Delver, and Gord chimed in simultaneously, each trying to tell his version of the events. Seconds later Shade came up as well and immediately began demanding to know the details.

The others didn't seem to mind the cacophony of voices, but it was too much for Gord. "As captain of this band," he shouted, "I call for silence!" The clamor subsided. "That's better. Dohojar, tell what happened to you. When he's finished, boys, Delver and I will fill you in on the action we fought. Then it'll be your turn to account – Smoker, Barrel, Post, and then Shade because he came in last."

The retelling of the fight with the dustfish was becoming a contest of exaggeration when a waddling, hissing gwahasti intervened. The big lizard was coming for its ration of salted water, and behind it were six more. One of the lizards had been killed by the dustfish as it attacked the things, but that was a part of life – and death – in the Ashen Desert. Dohojar, gri

"Sure thing, fellow," the Changa replied, "but don't you have any curiosity about why they left us?"

"Damn lizards ran off to get water, o' course," Delver growled. It was a guess on the dwarfs part, but an accurate one – as Dohojar, his mystery spoiled, confirmed in a grumpy tone.

"Let's get going, then," said Gord. "We could all use a drink ourselves, eh, boys?"

"Not yet, Zehaab," Dohojar cautioned. "The gwahasti will want to sleep now." And sleep they did, refusing to be roused until the sun was an hour high on the horizon. That gave the group time to get their camp equipment in order, and Gord was happy to find that the tough, gwahasti-hide tents were relatively undamaged from their encounter with the dustfish.

The lizards, watered and satiated with enough food to last them for days, were slow and moved with a lot of hissing and grumbling as they carried their riders to the place where they had found water. None of the travelers minded the delay, though. These creatures had done far more than simply return to lead them to water – the gwahasti had most assuredly saved men, half-elf, and dwarf from being eaten by the monstrous millipedes.

"I don't suppose I'll ever be able to love those musty-smelling blasters," Smoker said with feeling, "but I'll sure as hell have a fond spot in my heart for all gwahasti from now on!" Everyone laughed at that and chimed in with their own expressions of appreciation, and the trek to the waterhole was a cheerful ride.

The place was a deep pool that had formed in a rocky pocket. It was fed from a spring that bubbled up from the strata of stone below, keeping the water clear and fresh despite constant infusions of dust and ash. The latter came from a huge volcano, just dimly visible on the far horizon, scores of miles distant but still close enough. The travelers knew then that they had finally come within sight of the Inferno Peaks, and the worst of their journey was over. By riding directly toward the smoking cone for all of the next day, the seven were at the foothills of the range of volcanic peaks and jagged ridges before dark. The next morning they turned the lizards to the north, skirting the worst ground as they sought a likely-looking way to get through the rugged mountains.

"There!" boomed Delver after a few hours of searching. "That defile is the way we must take." The others were willing to trust the dwarfs instincts, and besides that they were very anxious to leave the Ashen Desert behind. Gord was as hopeful and excited as any of them, but decided they could all spare a couple of hours in the interest of caution and safety. He directed Delver and Smoker to try the pass, traveling into the mountains for an hour and then returning. In the meantime, everyone else unloaded the gwahasti and, since it was close to midday, allowed them to burrow in for their customary slumber.

The lizards were still resting when Smoker and the dwarf returned. "It looks like a good route, captain, at least as far as we could see," reported Smoker. "Believe me, you're going to like walking on solid ground again. The dwarf seems to know his stuff."

"You don't have to tell me that," said Gord with a sidelong glance and a smile in Delver's direction, remembering the way the stocky little warrior had helped him handle the dustfish. "Well, let's pack ourselves up and be gone from this hellish place."

Taking all they could carry and leaving non-essentials such as their riding gear behind, the seven of them bade the still-sleeping lizards a fond farewell and hiked up the good, hard stone of the pass. Only Dohojar seemed moist of eye at parting with the reptiles, and that lasted only briefly. Soon, however, the rock became less wonderful to tread upon, and the wind off the peaks above blew cold. The nature of their difficulties had changed, but their hardship was far from over. Everyone was quite exhausted by sunset, when they came across a good-sized rock overhang and made camp for the night. The main topic of talk around the fire, of course, was how hard it had been to trudge up the slopes with all their gear on their backs.