An Island Tale

With a supple, flowing motion of his wrist, the red-garbed swordsman guided his blade through a whistling arc which ended somewhere deep inside the beholder's globular body. Once, twice, thrice did the the silent swordsman repeat this act, moving more quickly than the eyes of the tyrant could follow. As the ichor-coated blade was removed after the final blow, the lifeless husk of the eye tyrant floated gently to the ground, trailing limp eye stalks like the multiple tails of a fanciful falling kite. Looking down, the swordsman smiled grimly as he watched the newly slain beholder crumple to the floor beside its equally dead brother.

With terrible cries composed of equal parts of fear and rage, the foul Zhentrim and witless cyclopskins, servants of the slain beholders, charged the unspeaking swordsman, surrounding him in an attempt to pull him down and avenge the slaying of their bloated masters. Only then did Pur Zaston, Krozair of Zy and Wizard of Loh, break his silence.

"Aye, gather 'round, evil ones," muttered Zaston as he sheathed his defiled blade and began to move his hands in mystic patterns, "gather 'round that ye may all burn in Zair's cleansing fire!" With that expostulation, the very air of the subterranean chamber erupted into flames, engulfing Zaston and servant of evil alike. When the flames subsided, only Zaston remained standing, amidst the hideously charred remains of those that so recently sought his demise. Seemingly unscathed by the storm of fire, Zaston began searching the crackling remains of his enemies for clues that might explain their loathsome presence here beneath Luskan outpost.

Zaston was distracted in his search by the sight of an intact battle axe in the blackened embrace of a cyclopskin corpse. The axe fairly glowed with magic, which no doubt explained how it survived the fire. Breaking the axe free of the cyclopskin's death grip, Zaston hefted it and found its balance to his liking.

"This is a noble weapon, by Krun, though it be an axe rather than a good Krozair longsword! Perhaps good enough to slay the magical men of iron that are rumored to exist beneath the isle of Trisk. There is but one way to find out. The time has come to join with the noble Giantklr and venture to the islands, as we did agree to do as soon as we both are ready."

"Hail, Giantklr!" shouted Pur Zaston as he entered Camelot. "Have ye a cup of wine to spare for a thirsty traveller?"

The trip from Luskan to Camelot, while quick and relatively uneventful, was also dry and dusty. Zaston drained the large cup proffered by Giantklr in a single draught and wiped his lips on the sleeve of his scarlet livery.

"By Mother Zinzu the Blessed, I needed that! Are ye ready to take passage for the islands, Giantklr?"

With a wordless nod, the huge warrior affirmed his readiness to accept this challenge. Looking down at the morning star hanging from his belt, he grew thoughtful.

"First I must visit the vaults," said Giantklr. "This weapon will not serve against the men of iron," indicating his morning star. "I must fetch my magical glaive-guisarme. Go to the docks, and I shall meet ye there."

"Aye, but be quick about it, dom! I do yearn to cleanse the evil that lurks on the islands."

Pur Zaston waited near the docks. Outwardly calm, he burned with impatience as he examined the ship that he intended to board. Just when he thought he would burst, Giantklr rounded the corner, clutching his glaive guisarme to his breast. At last! Unable to wait another moment, Zaston advanced to the ship, gave the password, and paid his fare. As he walked up the gangplank, he was surprised to hear a startled shout and a splash behind him. Turning on his heel, he was just in time to see Giantklr being pulled ignominiously to the bottom of the shallow bay by the weight of his prized glaive-guisarme. "Next time, remember to bring enough money!" shouted the Kraken ticket agent.

Giantklr dragged himself out of the muck, returned to the vault for more money, paid the abusive ticket agent and finally succeeded in boarding the ship, somewhat bedraggled but wiser for the experience. He slumped into a deck chair next to Pur Zaston who, not wishing to discover how sharp Giantklr's glaive-guisarme might be, just smiled and said nothing.

Pur Zaston woke in his cabin and headed up to the deck for some fresh sea air. There he found Giantklr leaning over the rail. Moving to join his friend, Zaston noticed that perhaps Giantklr did not enjoy the salt air overmuch. "Tis good of ye to feed the fishes, Giant, but ye go too far my old dom. They are well able to digest the food on their own. They need ye not to begin the process for them."

Turning his green face upward, Giantklr tried to reply to Zaston's purported witticism through vomit-flecked lips, but only succeeded in groaning.

"Worry not, my old dom," said Zaston, his face softening. "The trip is short, and ye could stand to lose a little of that swag belly of yours."

Several days later, a slightly thinner and much less steady Giantklr wobbled down the gangplank. Upon reaching the soil of the island, he fell to his knees and began kissing the ground. "Now that I am here, I shall never leave!" he vowed. "No more boats for me!"

"Let us go to the inn and rest a few days, Giant, that ye may regain your strength," counselled Zaston.

"Nay, ever am I strong enough to combat evil!" protested Giantklr. "Let us continue!"

"Tis foolish, Giant. Ye are weak. Besides, tis ill luck to venture forth without performing several days of obeisance to Mother Zinzu the Blessed, patron saint of wine drinkers"

"Now I see the way of it, Zaston! Your wineskins are empty and ye seek to fill both them and your swag belly with good island wine! Nay. Ye shall have to wait until our sacred mission is complete! Celebration comes after the event, not before."

His noble features marred by a touch of petulance, Zaston nodded his assent, and the two companions set off into the wilderness, leaving the noble vintages of the island untasted. A day or two of traipsing through the wilderness did much to restore Giantklr's strength and Zaston's good humor.

"Has it occurred to you that Trisk is another island altogether, which means that we shall have to ride another ship to get there?" asked Zaston as they approached the top of a large hill.

"Surely not!" expostulated Giantklr. "No doubt there is an underground passage, or a mystic teleport, or some other means of transport. For if there is not, why would the first ship not go directly to Trisk."

"Your logic is impeccable, my old dom, but I fear that it will do little to impress yon boat moored on the beach below us."

Looking down for the first time after reaching the top of the hill, Giantklr's only reply was a tortured groan.

With a reluctant sigh, Giantklr moved to follow Zaston, who had immediately made for the boat. As the noble pair approached the boat, they were ambushed by Kraken warriors and mages, along with their stinking sewer creatures. The evil ones were no match for the two pages of the Round Table, and were swiftly dispatched to whatever hell would care to claim them. The two sat down to clean their weapons, and a sly look stole over Giantklr's face.

"Tis clear that this was but a trap, Zaston! That boat is not meant to be used for anything. Tis only bait, to lure such witless ones as yerself into the trap. Nay, the boat is not the way to Trisk. That much is clear. Let us begin our search for the true way forward!"

Zaston's only response was a sarcastic lift of the eyebrows as he boarded the boat and unshipped the oars. Resigned to his fate, Giantklr muttered a soft curse and joined Zaston in the boat. The task of sailing the boat was left to Zaston. Was he not once captain of a Krozair swifter that sailed the Eye of the World on Kregen? Besides, Giantklr was much too busy making copious offerings unto Poseidon.

The voyage seemed easy enough until a storm blew up out of nowhere, tossing the tiny ship capriciously. No doubt this was Poseidon's way of extracting increased offerings from Giantklr, but it left Zaston with a difficult choice. Turn north and run before the storm, or persevere toward the west and Trisk. Unable to decide, Zaston was saved when a manifestation of Saint Gilligan appeared and urged him to continue westward. This led them to a safe landing on Trisk which, contrary to Zaston's expectations, turned out not to be a deserted desert isle. Once upon Trisk, an entrance to the underground lair of the Krakens was quickly and easily found. It was almost as if they wanted to be found. Heedless of the warning implied by this, Pur Zaston and Giantklr ventured fearlessly beneath the earth, only to be sent fleeing in defeat by a group of fire giant mages.

"Tis the wrath of Mother Zinzu," complained Zaston. "We have displeased her mightily, as I did warn ye. I tremble to think of how much wine I shall now have to drink to atone for my lack of piety. The cellars of Camelot will surely run dry before I have purged myself of the sin that you brought me to!"

"Aye, ye tremble Zaston, but in anticipation rather than fear! I shall be sure to warn the knights to place a guard on the wine cellars when we return to Camelot. Twas our overconfidence that caused us to lose that battle, not your precious Mother Zinzu."

"Have a care, Giant. Mother Zinzu does not care to be mocked. Would ye have your wine grow sour in your mouth for the rest of your days? Better to die, by Krun! Still, what ye say does have some merit, my old dom. We must proceed more cautiously, and prepare in advance for such battles as are inevitable."

Re-entering the Kraken lair, the pair of pages immediately found their new approach to be much more successful. The first guardians encountered, efreeti and their pet hell hounds, were dispatched with ease. An uneasy moment occurred when they were joined in this battle by Warr Sidhe. Expecting this evil one to join the efreeti against them, Zaston was already reaching for his scroll of Feeblemind when Warr Sidhe began attacking the efreeti instead of the pages. Perplexed as to why a Warr would aid pages of the Round Table, Zaston shrugged, replaced the scroll in his backpack, and turned his attention back to the efreeti. After the battle Warr Sidhe went his way while Zaston and Giantklr went theirs. Not a word was exchanged between them.

Chastened by their earlier defeat, Zaston and Giantklr did not allow themselves to enjoy this, or any other victory. They had become forged into a single, grim, killing machine. No evil creature could stand before them. Red dragons, purple worms, white dragons, yeti, and remorhaz all fell before them, reaped like ripened wheat by their blades, then baked like loaves of bread by their spells. Closer and closer did they come to their goal, obtaining the Kraken badges which allow entry into the Neverwinter sewers.

As they girded themselves to face the foul dracoliches that guarded the final approach to the Kraken headquarters, Zaston and Giantklr were joined by two others on the same mission as themselves. LOKValiant and LOK Shirak helped defeat the dracoliches, although Shirak was paralysed by the evil power of the undead Dragons. He recovered from this fate in time to aid in the defeat of the iron golems, penultimate guardians of the Krakens.

In the battle against the last defenders of the Krakens, the despicable beholders, Shirak redeemed himself for his weakness against the dracoliches. He slew both of the eye tyrants single-handedly while his three companions disposed of the beholders' lesser servants. The last battle won, a cowering Kraken, mistaking Giantklr for the leader of the party, gave him one of the coveted badges. The quest was complete! Time now to return to Camelot with our prize.

"I have been thinking," said Giantklr, "that the island climate is to my liking. I believe I will stay here for a while, perhaps take up residence. Here, Zaston, take this badge back to Camelot. I will not be leaving the islands just yet."

"Nay, Giant, I shall not take the badge. Ye won it, ye shall return it to Camelot. Tis only just. I would not cheat ye of the glory that is rightfully yours."

"No, I insist, Zaston! There is much evil yet to fight on these islands. I cannot justify leaving them at this time."

"Tis the thought of sailing once more that ye cannot justify, Giant! That is the way of it! But sail ye shall, by the diseased left gonad of Makki-Grodno! Who will defend the wine cellars of Camelot from my rapacity if ye are not there to warn them?"

"Aye, there is that, Zaston. I could not face the wrath of the knights if I allowed you to drink all their wine. Let us go."

And with that, Giantklr strode off to lead them back to the docks, already beginning to turn green.