Tomb of Horrors by Keith Francis Strohm

Author:Keith Francis Strohm [Strohm, Keith Francis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-6477-2
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2013-04-29T16:00:00+00:00

Durgoth Shem looked in disgust at the creature huddled before the small fire. The beast’s mottled yellow skin shimmered and pulsed sickeningly in the firelight. Thankfully, rotting leather armor covered most of its humanoid form—though he could still make out the layer of mucous that covered arms, legs, and the creature’s froglike face. Occasionally, gobs of the stuff rolled off the bullywug’s body and hit the muddy ground with a stomach-heaving splorch.

“What ish it you want from ush?” the creature asked, its bulbous eyes regarding the cleric gravely. “Why have you not deshtroyed ush?”

The dark priest stared in sickening fascination at the bloated length of the creature’s tongue as it lolled about in its wide, thin-lipped mouth. Even with the power of his spell allowing him to understand the frothing consonants, clicks, and squeals that the bullywug used for its language, his human ears had a difficult time comprehending the beast’s thicktongued words.

Finally able to tear his eyes away from its disgusting features, Durgoth looked around at the pile of broken, amphibious bodies that surrounded the fire. Around him in a circle stood Eltanel, Sydra, Jhagren, and Adrys—along with the fear-filled cultists who remained alive. The cleric cast another glance to the left of the firepot, where the golem stood, still holding the cracked and bloodied spine of a bullywug between its meaty hands.

The attack had come swiftly, without warning. At first, Durgoth thought it simply the predations of a hungry beast, for that was what had crashed into their lines. It had only taken a few moments for the defenders to react to this attack, and the furred creature was already put down when humanoid figures had erupted violently from the surrounding trees. More furred beasts had appeared in the fray, and Durgoth watched as these beasts had turned on the bullywugs, killing almost as many of them as he and his cultists. It hadn’t been very long until the battle was over and several creatures, including the one that huddled before his fire, had been captured.

“I did not destroy you,” the cleric replied at last, “because I believe that you and your companions can be of some use to me.”

The creature nodded. “Yesh. Jusht tell Braggsh what it ish that you wish,” it said. “Braggsh will make sure that Braggsh’sh pondmates obey.”

Durgoth’s lip curled at the bullywug’s pathetic mewling. Disgusting creatures, he thought, half-considering whether he should just kill the ones who remained and be done with it. “That is good, Braggsh. I see we understand each other. Very well. There are other intruders to your lands, about a day’s march to the east. See to it that not a single one of them leaves this swamp alive.”

Braggsh’s eyes blinked slowly beneath the flickering light of the fire. “Yesh. Braggsh knows the intruders you shpeak of. They are led by a pointy earsh. It ish very shkilled. Pond deshide to let them passh. Too much trouble to kill.”

“I want them dead,” the cleric said again, nearly shouting at the vile humanoid.

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