A Decidedly Disastrous Day
by David J. Leonard
“I am not what you see and hear.”
― Infinite
Jest
 |
| Her silver hair glared... |
She started as a brilliant ball of radiance ignited, revealing the orb from which it sprang, the staff upon which it clutched, and the ivory profile of the elven maid who held it. Her silver hair glared under its bloom, but not as fiercely as her amber eyes.
“What did you do?” the elf shrieked.
“Nothing!” she said.
The elf stood even more erect,
if that were possible, and dealt her a withering stare.
“Okay,” she admitted. “I touched
that colourful black mirror.”
“I told you not to touch
anything.”
“You said it wasn’t magic!”
The elf straightened further
still. “It isn’t.”
“Then how dangerous could
touching it be?” she snapped.
The elf tilted her head towards
the door which had slid into the once open space.
Point taken.
Panicked, she looked about, but
could see little beyond their meager patch of illumination, except the flickering
lightning that flashed in the middle distance. It was not lightning, though. It
lacked its hue, and the bitter tang of its aftermath.
Upon entering, their boots
brushed a curiously flat floor. They bent to touch it. Even palaces could not
boast such a floor. It was metal, by the look of it. But not. It was pale, a
creamy white in the sunlight streaming in at their backs; not the grey and
black expected of tempered steel or wrought iron. No matter; whatever it was, it
was just as hard.
And it hummed.
Her hand snapped back, even as
her fingertips brushed it. Her companion’s lingered longer, pressing her palm
upon it.
That was when she saw the little
mirror imbedded in a wall that was as flat as the floor. She should never have
touched it; she knew as much even as she had. It was such a rookie move. But,
curiosity, and all that.
And now they were trapped.
“What if I touch it again?” she
said.
“Lu, no!”
Before the elf could stop her, Lu
reached out and touched the glossy black surface, exactly where she had the
first time.
Nothing happened. There was no resulting
hiss of air, no vibration, no change, whatsoever. The door remained as sealed
as it had been moments before. She sighed. It wouldn’t be that easy, would it?
“Let me try,” the elf said.
She said her words and a lilac
wisp of what one might call smoke caressed the door, seeping into the seams, seeking
out what lock or magic might be holding it shut. A moment passed.
The elf shook her head. “It’s
not locked,” she said, “and it’s not magic, either. Can you pry it open?”
 |
| ...her pale skin, her crinkly blonde hair... |
What’s this? She fingered
a slotted groove to one side of it. She fished a filament wire out of her
toolkit and probed it. It was as flawless as its surface. She unsheathed her
knife.
A light touch restrained her
hand. “Just because it’s not magical doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous,” the elf
said, her concern obvious to any who had spent any time with the Greys.
“It’s not trapped, Ce,” Lu said,
trying to set the elf at ease.
The elf did not release her
hand.
“We don’t know anything about
this place,” Ce said. “Remember the huge shell of a man we found buried to its
chest?”
“What of it?”
“It too had glass displaying these
strange sigils and lights. Remember how it lurched when Mazirian pressed on the
levers within?”
“We have to do something, unless
you want to spend the rest of your days in this place.”
Ce’s expression remained the
same.
“Fine,” Lu said, shaking her
head, “I’ll look at the door, for all the good it’ll do.”
She ran her fingers up the centre
join, then round the arch from ceiling to floor. She would never be able to get
her filament wire into it, let alone the lip of her pry bar. It came out of here, eyeing the spot
where the “door” met the wall. She cast a glance over her shoulder at a similar
arch a short distance away. Another door? Is this an atrium? She crossed
the presumed atrium and found another of those little black mirrors to either
side of the arch. She bent to look at the first.
“Wanna try it?”
Ce cast a withering look of
disapproval.
“Just kidding.”
“Could the groove be for a key
of some sort?” Ce asked.
Lu shrugged. It was as good a
guess as any. But would they recognize such a key even if they saw one?
She loaded her crossbow and started
down the corridor.
“Where are you going?” Ce asked.
Lu shrugged. “To find another
way out. Or a key. Anything is better than standing around here. Are you coming?”
Ce nodded.
They thought on where a way out might
be, picturing the prolate that towered over the rocks it rose from. Whatever it
was, it had been there a very long time. The slopes were treed and shrubbed, a
tangle of old growth which spoke of centuries. Yet nothing grew into it; the
least bit of digging was proof of that. The prolate was not entirely smooth, either.
Lines crisscrossed its surface, hinting at what might be a door higher up. But
it was also a dozen or so feet above the nearest rock shelf, difficult to
reach, if at all. And what with an open “door” so close to the ground, there had
been no need to try.
Until now.
They made their way within, passing
a door here and there, but all were as impervious to entry as the first. Lu prowled
ahead to the furthest extent of Ce’s spell. She pressed her back to the wall
and risked a glance both ways. The corridor turned up from where she hid at
either end, debris strewn about, if thicker against the walls.
 |
| A Corridor, Dull and Dark |
Ce entered the strange light, a
blue-bathed statue set a foot or two nearer with each reveal.
“Curious,” Ce said, once she
came abreast with Lu, her eyes uplifted to the flickering band.
“Yeah,” Lu said. Praise be to We Jas, she scowled, her
praise little more than a curse. She could see, but the light lacked the warmth
of sunlight, even the soul of moonshine, and its flashing brought on vertigo.
It had trapped them, too.
A brushing, a scrape cut through the nattering. Lu risked another glance in its direction, and saw a most curious sight: A creature, no taller than two or three feet, had appeared, and was gaping back at her. Its head sprouted a tangle of grass and leaves, its shoulders, abdomen, and limbs fringed with the same. More disturbing were the thorn-like claws that rasped, tapped, and scraped the floor.
Rat-a-tat-tat! Screech!
It bared its teeth and bolted,
disappearing from one frame to the next, the only evidence of it ever having
been was the fast fading scrabbling of its retreat.
“What the fuck,” Lu whispered.
“It didn’t look friendly,” Ce
said. “We’d best be away before it returns.”
They rounded the opposite corner
to where the creature had appeared and disappeared, stepping lightly betwixt
the tangle of torn cloth, shards of metal, and an array of mysterious objects,
the like of which neither had ever seen before.
A rectangular card of leaded
glass caught Lu’s eye. Glossy, black glass.
“What’s this?” she said. She
reached for it. “And this?” She spied another, identical to the first, but this
one was orange.
She stepped over the wreckage to
the closest door when she noted it too had a little mirror of black glass to
the right of it. With the same notched groove at its side. She slid the
jet-black card into its jet-black groove.
The door slid into the wall with
an audible hiss, startling her. Light burst from the ceiling within, revealing a
mummified corpse on a horizontal slab jutting from the wall. Lu leapt back. She
fired her bolt into it. Ce slipped a hand into one of the pouches sewn into her
belt.
The corpse remained where it lay.
After a moment’s hesitation, they stepped into stale air that lacked the taint
of decay. It had been dead for quite some time.
A quick search of its chamber
revealed odd pieces of junk amid its tumble of furniture. These people must
have been rich! She had never seen so much metal and glass. Everything appeared
to be made of them or a sort of hard, pliable ceramic. A further search
revealed an odd assortment of silky-smooth clothing in a tiny room within, what
must have served as a chest or an armoire, and banks of drawers that sprang out
of the walls when pressed. Even the cloth, the sheets and clothing, were made
of such stuff she had never held in hand. Lastly, there were more of those
leaded glass cards of disparate sizes atop an otherwise vacant tabletop.
Touching them brought those strange sigils to its surface.
“I believe this is writing,” Ce
declared.
As good a guess, as any, Lu thought.
Ce muttered a phrase and she
pinched some soot and salt between her fingers. The tablet glowed. Her eyes
sparkled and darted left to right. She tapped the surface. And tapped it again.
The sigils changed with each tapping.
“It’s a book,” she said. “It
tells of travelling between the stars.”
Lu leaned in to gaze at it,
despite her inability to make the least sense of it. “Between the stars?” she
asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
A distant rustling reached their
ears, growing louder with each passing moment. They exchanged a glance. Their
little friend had returned with more of its kind.
“Shit,” Lu said. She retrieved
her crossbow and exiting the room, Ce on her heels. They turned left, away from
the rustling, and left again at the first corner which afforded them distance from
the rapidly growing riot of clacking and scratches. All too soon, they realized
they were in a dead end. Lu turned back the way they came.
Their little friend had indeed returned.
Rat-a-tat-tat, he beat upon the floor. Another arrived. And another. This one
greener, that one browner. And another, autumn. Each carried a short pole, a
shard of metal tied to one end. Their feral little friend rushed them, his
spear high.
Lu’s crossbow came up. The bolt
flew, and the vicious little plant flew backwards, the shaft and its fletching
protruding from what was once its eye.
Then Green and Brown and Autumn
rushed them, paying no heed of their fallen friend. Two more joined them.
Ce raised a hand and intoned a
lyric phrase and three blazing pellets raced from her fingertips, each finding
its mark. The first three spun root over foliage.
Lu set her crossbow aside and
drew her sword and dagger, stepping forward to meet the little flytraps halfway,
but they skid to a stop and beat a retreat. There was no time to savour their
victory. The corridor filled with the onrush of more of the rustling, this time
tenfold of what was.
“Make sure there are no
surprises back there,” Ce instructed, tilting her head behind them, her eyes
glued to what lay ahead, her hands at her pouches. A pungent mix of guano and
sulfur wafted up to their noses.
Lu retrieved her crossbow,
wondering how useful so slow a weapon might be in the melee to come. She
shouldered it, opting for her blades, wishing she had an axe. She backed up,
eyes on the corridor ahead until she was again abreast with Ce.
“Go,” Ce said. “There’s not much
time!”
Lu took less care than she
should have, considering the debris scattered about. Toppled cylinders sporting
tentacles, others with odd crablike with pincers. A breastplate trailing fine coloured
rope and rods. More of those coloured cards, a rainbow of them.
The rustle became a riot as a deluge
of the little vegetal men flowed into their corridor. Lu spun and saw teeth,
claws, and a field of flowing topknots with each flash of light. At one hundred
feet. Eighty. Sixty.
She rushed to Ce’s side, mindful
that if she should trip and sprawl ….
 |
| Muttering Arcane Words |
A vacuous thump shook the air
there, and a billowing ball of flame exploded amid the horde.
They writhed as they were engulfed. Silently. They were flung
hither and thither, but never so far as to escape being consumed. The flower of
flame burned itself out, leaving hundreds of tiny fires crackling in its wake, smelling
of campfire, tasting of ash.
The central band of blue light became
red. It no longer flickered. It no longer flashed. A shrill horn wailed. Snow
that was not snow rained down on the burning bodies, sputtering the flames,
burying them. The rising smoke was drawn to and into grills in the wall.
Ce moved to inspect what
remained of those peculiar little plants. Curiosity, and all that.
Lu took breath to warn her
against such an action. But before her lungs had filled, more of the ravenous
little reeds rounded the corner, their coming masked by the incessant wail.
Ce reconsidered her curiosity
and backed away, once again reaching into her pouches, but as she drew her hand
from her belt, one of the little savages threw its slender rod at her. Ce spun.
Ce staggered. And Ce fell.
“No!” Lu cried, bounding
forward. Ce was muttering her inexplicable words as she drew up. A torrent of
fire rose up from wall to wall. It crackled and it spit as though fuelled by a
cord of kindling. And little green reed men. Lu saw even more of them through
the flames. How many more of those fuckers
are there, she wondered? She imagined she would find out soon enough. Indeed,
more of that snow that was not snow was already spraying upon the firewall. They
had to get out of there. But how? Wait
one minute, she thought. One side of those rungs were rising! So, up, up,
and away. She hoped.
Lu tore at Ce’s gown and began
to bind her wound, and once done, she drew one of the elf’s arm around her neck
and made for the pit. She picked up a rainbow of the cards laying about on the
way. And eyed the steel rod which still hung motionless between the arcs.
I suppose I’d drift too if I stepped
in there, she surmised. She certainly hoped so, or this would surely be the
lowest point of an already decidedly disastrous day.
She watched a rung travel past.
Then another.
“Ready?” she asked as she
hoisted the elf up over her shoulder.
She reached for a rung.
***
 |
| A Circular Room, Lined With Glass |
Ce clung to her, her once
pristine gown crimson from shoulder to waist.
“How can someone so skinny be so
heavy?” Lu asked.
Ce chucked, her voice a breathy
rasp. A drop of blood had bloomed at the corner of her mouth.
That’s not good, Lu
realized.
She made for the closest chair.
She pushed the corpse from it and set Ce into it as gently as she was able.
She surveyed the room. There must be something here to bind the wound
with. It was too dim to see much of anything. She crossed the room, passing
another seated corpse at its centre. I
can tear its clothing into bandages, she thought. She spun the corpse to
face her and tried to tear the fabric of its golden tunic. It refused to yield.
She tried again, this time pulling apart its seam of tiny interlocking metal teeth.
Another one of those cards fell from its front pocket.
It was different from all the rest. She had red ones and orange
ones, green ones and blue ones. Mostly black ones. But not a grey one like
this. It was smaller than all the others, too. She stooped to pick it up.
And noticed the little grey
leaded mirror affixed to the arm of the chair. With a little grey groove at its
side. She had discovered these little glass oddities had purpose. Okay, Ce discovered
they had purpose. They were books. They opened doors. If she waved them in
front of the little mirrors on the walls, lights lit, or faded, or could be
extinguished. Maybe this little grey card would turn the lights on in here.
She slid the card in.
“Can I be of assistance?” a
voice said.
She spun about, searching for
the speaker, finding no one.
“Who’s there?” she said.
“Mu Lambda interface, heuristically
programmed, algorithmic central computer; serial number: nine, zero, zero, zero.
Can I be of assistance?”
She realized the voice was
coming from the chair. She turned it and saw another of those little mirrors on
the other armrest, this one angled, so as to be seen when seated.
She pulled the corpse out of it
and sat in its place.
There was a face in the little
glass. Large forehead. Tapered chin. Large eyes. Grey-green complexion. The
face looked human, and elf, and dwarf. In fact, it looked a little like every
humanoid imaginable. It had the same features as the corpse on the floor, too,
or would have had the corpse been a little fresher, a little moister.
“You speak my language?” she
said, perplexed.
“Of course. I have been monitoring
you since you gained entry to the ship. It was a simple matter to analyse your
speech and search the database for likely—”
Ship?
“Can you help my friend?” she asked,
cutting short its dialogue. Friend? She had never thought of Ce as her
friend before.
“I have called for medical assistance,
captain,” the little man in the mirror said.
Captain?
“Captain?”
“The holder of the command grade
card is designated captain. Can I be of further assistance, captain?”
“Can you get us out of here?”
“Insufficient query. Please
rephrase.”
“I want to get out of here.”
“Please rephrase command. Do you
wish to effect return trajectory?”
“What does that mean?”
“Do you wish to return to point
of embarkation?”
Point of embarkation? “I
want to get back to where we started from.”
“Return to point of embarkation
will require command unit separation.”
“Whatever. I want to get out of
here.”
“Initiating separation. Commencing
countdown to launch.”
The black panels sprung to life
with the same sigils that were etched on the “book.” And pictures. The valley. The
sky. A panoramic view of the Barrier Peaks. Sigils streamed, as like the lines
of a book being inscribed. The voice began to count down. Ten, nine …. The
floor began to vibrate. Eight, seven …. It shook. It bucked.
***
Lu gasped! She clutched the
armrests as though her life depended on it. She had never swooned before, but
the sight in the picture before her would have made anyone weak in the knees.
The valley dropped away! It fell! And was lost to sight as the mountains grew
smaller and smaller and the Suel subcontinent filled the frame! No parchment
map had never been as vivid, or as real. Its hills and mountains were brown and
grey and white, its rivers blue. The southern jungles and the untamed coast
rolled into view. Clouds billowed past, obscuring the land below. Before long,
she viewed the whole of the world! It curved! Such a sight! It was too much!
She closed her eyes. The
vibration slaked, then eased altogether.
“What is the nature of the medical
emergency?” she asked, her voice as emotionless as her face.
Lu left her seat and approached
her. She reached out and touched her face. It was not unlike the armrest of the
chair she had just vacated. Cold.
“What are you?” she asked.
“Emergency Medical Unit 931, captain,”
it said. “What is the nature of the medical emergency?”
“My friend,” she said,
indicating Ce. “She’s dying.”
931 knelt next to Ce. It touched
her neck, checking her pulse. Then gently took her in hand and lay her on the
floor. It opened the case at its side and brought forth a cylinder, and pressed
it against Ce’s exposed neck. Lu heard it hiss.
“What is her name?” 931 asked.
“Ce,” Lu said. After a pause: “Celene.”
“Celene,” 931 said, oddly
soothing, despite its lack of emotion, “I’m here to help you. Everything will
be alright.” It began cutting away at Celene’s robes. Inspecting the wound.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping. Let me help.”
Celene opened her eyes.
“Luna,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Luna whispered, kneeling
next to her.
“What. Is. That?” Celene’s eyes
were locked on the large window.
Luna turned to look at the
window. “It’s Bellachandra,” she said, “the sister moon.” Half in shadow. The
other half glowing.
 |
| That's No Moon! |
Ramachandra rose behind it as
the picture drew closer. It, at least, was a moon; but it too was etched
with the similar lines that stretched from what she assumed must be more domes.
What are they, she
gasped? Maybe the little man in the little grey glass knew! What did he call
himself? Mu Lambda!
“Mu Lambda,” she called, her
voice becoming shrill. “What is that?”
“Earth Ship Ark.”
“And behind it?”
“Moon Base Alpha.”
“What are they?”
“Colonization habitats.”
The End
To the Moon
Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1792-1822
I
Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth, —
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?
II
Thou chosen sister of the Spirit,
That gazes on thee till in thee it pities ...
Special thanks to Kristoph Nolen of Greyhawk Online and the Oerth Journal, who reached out to me to submit something to the Journal. If he had not, this piece might not/would not have been written.
It originally saw the light of day in Oerth Journal #32, and can still be found there, forevermore. I encourage you to download the issue, and many more, as the articles within are written by fans of the Greyhawk setting for fans to use as they see fit.
The Art:
Illustration #3, from S3 Expedition to the Barrier Peaks, by Erol Otus, 1980
Vegepygmy Illustration, from Paizo Pathfinder Bestiary #1, by Matt Dillon, 2009
Illustration #2, from S3 Expedition to the Barrier Peaks, by Erol Otus, 1980
Illustration #8, from S3 Expedition to the Barrier Peaks, by Erol Otus, 1979
Copyright:
This is a work of fiction, penned by myself, set in the world of Greyhawk.
It is not to be copied or reprinted without the author’s permission.
Sources:
1015 World of Greyhawk Boxed Set, 1983
2010 Players Handbook, 1st Ed., 1978
Players Handbook, 5th Ed., 2014
2011A Dungeon Masters Guide, 1st Ed., 1979
9033 S3 Expedition to the Barrier Peaks, 1980,1981
9025 World of Greyhawk Folio, 1980
11743 Living Greyhawk Gazeteer, 2000
Paizo Bestiary 1e, 2009
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