The Tomb of Horrors Read Online Free PDF Page A

furrowed brow. The man’s eyes
were drawn together sharply and his mouth seemed frozen in a permanent frown.
    “My apologies,” Kaerion began in his friendliest tone, “I did
not mean to stand in the place that you intended to fall into.” He gave the
unpleasant man a hard look, at odds with his congenial tone.
    Though broad of shoulder and thick of limb, the offending man
still did not have Kaerion’s mass. At first it seemed as if he might actually
growl something back, but he took another look at the fighter’s well-tended mail
and leather scabbard and hastily grumbled an unintelligible phrase before
scampering off into the crowds.
    Kaerion felt a slender hand rest upon his shoulder.
    “Easy, Kaer,” Gerwyth said in a soothing tone. “No sense
traveling all the way to Rel Mord only to spend time in the city prison.”
    Kaerion exhaled through his nose before replying, “Gods, you
know how much I hate large cities!”
    In truth, it wasn’t the unending crowds and lack of privacy
that was really bothering him. The wineskins had run out quickly, and he was
afflicted with a throbbing head that never seemed to leave him. His nights,
never the refuge they were for other people, were now filled with nightmares. If
anything positive could be said for this city, it was that he could soon find
himself in the taproom of some inn, cradling a blessed mug of ale. Maybe even
two.
    “I know you do,” replied the elf, “but if you can relax for
just a bit, we’ll soon be inside.” He indicated the line, which had moved
considerably closer to the gatehouse.
    They reached the gatehouse a few candlespans later, only to
be challenged by a guardsman in plate armor. The soldier flicked a bored gaze
over the two men. “State your name and business in the city of Rel Mord,” the
guardsman intoned in a flat voice.
    “Gerwythaeniaen Larkspur and Kaerion Whitehart, lately from
Woodwych,” the elf responded. He would have continued, but the bored guard had
already moved on to the next person in line, waving the two travelers in with an
impatient shake of his halberd.
    “They must take their duties very seriously,” the elf said
with a smile as they passed through the stone gateway.
    Kaerion simply scowled at his friend. Disgust with the
soldier’s obvious laziness warred with his own painful memories. There was a
time when he would have called the gods’ own thunder down upon anyone serving
under him who shirked his duties so blatantly, before—
    He shook his head to deny that memory. It was another life.
No one served under him now. He was master of nothing. Let the city commander
worry about the discipline of his own troops. Kaerion certainly wasn’t about to
start caring. And when, he thought as he loosened his cloak, did it get so
blasted warm? There were still several weeks left until Readying and the early
spring thaw.
    “Where are we supposed to meet this contact of yours?” he
asked Gerwyth, who had stopped to converse with a blue-cloaked elf maiden. “I’ve
a powerful need to wash the dust of the road from my throat.”
    The two elves continued to speak for a moment more, the
mellifluous tones of the Elvish tongue flowing between them like quicksilver,
before the ranger nodded and touched hand to heart in the elven gesture of
farewell. He turned to Kaerion slowly, with a familiar grin on his face.
    “Has anyone ever told you, Kaer, that you are a prime example
of your race?”
    Knowing that he wasn’t about to get a quick answer to his
question, the fighter sighed. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied
sardonically.
    “Hmm, yes. You would.” The elf’s grin widened after a moment.
“Fear not, my friend. I have just been informed of the location of our meeting
place.” He sketched a courtly bow and spoke in his best high-class accent, “If
you’ll just follow me, my lord,” and turned into the crowd.
    Kaerion threw up his hands and followed.
     
    * * *
     
    Despite its