The Companions of Tartiël Read Online Free PDF

place? It’s too… perfect, too sterile, in a sense. And the brethren are ever so nice to us, but they don’t talk about anything meaningful. I asked the one of them about his family, and he started going on about the flowers in bloom. So I asked him about his favorite book. Even that he avoided answering. And they kept us away from each other all day.”
    Something caught Caineye’s attention, and the druid strode to the bed, reached under, and pulled out a rat by the tail. It was no ordinary rat, however, being more than two feet long. “And,” said the druid with a certain edge of vindictiveness, “we have a rat in our midst.”
    Kaiyr and Wild both gave surprised shouts as the rat twisted and snapped at Caineye. The druid dropped the creature on the floor as Kaiyr summoned his soulblade into being and brandished it. Vinto growled but stayed back at a motion from Caineye, and Wild drew a dagger from its sheath.
    Then, to everyone’s surprise, the rat’s shape changed, elongating and then rising to become one of the acolytes residing at the church. “A wererat!” Caineye warned everyone.
    The rat-turned-man made a mad dash for the exit, dodging between Kaiyr and Wild on his way out through the open door.
     
    *
     
    “Open door?” Matt exclaimed, incredulity in his expression. “Bullshit, Dingo. Bullshit. Why was the door open?”
    Dingo looked at him like he’d just been told the sky was blue. “Because you guys didn’t say you closed the door.”
    Matt rolled his eyes, and I silently reflected the sentiment. “Dude, we said we were having a private conversation. Why the hell would we leave a door open for that kind of business?”
    Dingo just shrugged. “Well, you did. And it’s too late to go back and retcon [5] it.”
    “Seriously, Dingo,” I piped up. Xavier remained stoically—and typically—silent, unwilling to fan the flames. “First we accidentally starve ourselves, now we leave ourselves wide open. Come on, man. Don’t pull that kind of shit.”
    The DM raised his hands. “Hey, I’m the one calling the shots here. Deal with it.”
    “All right,” I conceded, “Can we make a new SOP? Like, whenever we’re heading into our private quarters, especially when talking with other party members about delicate topics, we close the door—and lock it if we can?”
    “Sure,” he replied, and the other guys nodded their accord. “From now on, I’ll assume that unless you specify otherwise, you’ll close doors when you go into your rooms. Anyway, getting back to the game, it’s your turn, man.” He looked at me expectantly, and I trained my gaze on the little figurine representing my character.
    “Argh, damn me for being a lawful good character,” I growled, looking at the mat on the floor. We used a laminated grid with one-inch squares to mark our positions on maps we drew in washable markers, each square representing five feet in the game. In this case, the map was of our characters’ room.
    “Jeff,” Dingo said hunkering down in his chair, “You’re the only one who has the initiative to act right now. Caineye’s already taken his turn, and Wild won’t go until after the wererat’s next turn.
    I hesitated, weighing my options. I could have struck at the wererat with my character’s soulblade. That, unfortunately, wouldn’t have done much more than piss the guy off, considering my damage potential was only between two and seven. If I got really lucky and rolled a critical [6] on the guy, I might have had a chance at taking him down, but with a ten percent chance of that happening, I wasn’t willing to bet on that.
    I didn’t think my character was in a killing mood, anyway. We had just discovered a naughty kid hiding in our room, but he hadn’t attacked us and was just trying to get away. The “getting away” part wasn’t going to sit well with me, though. Then a brilliant idea formed in my head, and I grinned at Dingo. He gave me a frightened look at that as I reached