“So, we’re agreed that that bartender drugged us?” Stephen asked after they re-assembled in the Wizards'' Guild dining hall. All ate ravenously from the simple food the clay golems brought in for them.


    “Definitely,” said Shomos. “I know about poisons and toxins, and this was definitely something to knock us out.”


    “But why?” asked Rurth. “Not a great way to encourage visitors to their village.”


    “Maybe they don’t want visitors,” said Blargh. “Or someone gets the innkeeper to capture travelers.”


    “Avin set up a trap for people who arrived in his dimension at his fortress,” said Stephen. “This could be something similar. If other travelers have gone through that village, then maybe they’re on the lookout for people who don’t belong.”


    “We do kind of stick out,” Rurth admitted. “Our clothes were very different from what the locals used. And we paid for the evening with a gemstone, instead of whatever the local currency is.”


    “But what do we do now?” asked Stephen. “Go back and try talking to them?” The other three thought for a moment, then Blargh shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like they were ready to attack us. If there’s anyone who’s a danger to us, you can always flee back here.”


    After they’d finished eating, Stephen made some coffee, which the golems hadn’t mastered yet. The four prepared themselves, cast ‘comprehend languages’ again, then traveled back to the room above the pub. Someone had clearly been in the room to remove their dinner dishes and straighten it up. With a shrug, Stephen headed downstairs.


    The innkeeper looked at the four in shock as they came down to the main room. Dreary morning light came in through the dusty front windows. There weren’t any patrons drinking yet. Hearing the creaking of the stairs, a woman came out of the kitchen and gave a gasp when she saw the four of them.


    “I apologize, we really overslept,” said Stephen. “Please let me pay for another night.” He fished out another small ruby and tossed it to the barkeep, who recovered his wits enough to snatch it out of the air.


    “We’re looking for Maggard. Where can we find him?” Stephen asked.


    The bartender looked at him sourly and said, “No Maggard here.”


    “I could make it worth your while if you helped us find him,” Stephen said, patting his pouch. The innkeeper silently shook his head.


    “What’s the business in this town, anyway?” Stephen asked.


    The bartender said, “Lumber and mining mostly.”


    “And why would a lumber and mining town be drugging visitors?” Stephen asked.


    The innkeeper flushed dark red and muttered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


    Stephen looked at Blargh, then stepped back. Blargh moved up to the bar. “My friends here are all polite and don’t know how to respond when someone takes a run at them.” He drew two daggers and began to spin them around each of his hands. “I learned at an early age that if someone hits you, you hit them back twice as hard. The thing I need to figure out here, though, is whether it’ll be more persuasive for you if I start carving you up, or the missus there.”


    The woman near the kitchen made a strangled noise, then started to move back into the kitchen. Blargh threw one of the daggers, embedding it in the door frame in front of her. She stopped moving and stood still.


    “Don’t make me come after you, love,” said Blargh. “When someone makes me run, I get grouchy after I catch them.” Turning his attention back to the man behind the bar, he said, “And that answers who I should start carving on first. You don’t seem to be bothered by me throwing daggers at her, so let''s start with you. Any preference between losing fingers or toes to start with?”


    “We don’t know nothing,” said the innkeeper.


    “Technically, that means you know something,” said Stephen smugly. Rurth gave a small titter. Shomos looked at him in confusion, and Blargh gave him an exasperated look. The innkeeper looked downwards and appeared to be trying to shrink into the shadows behind the bar.


    Blargh smiled at that, then grabbed the innkeeper by the shoulder and smashed his face into the bar. As blood poured out of his broken nose, Blargh pulled his body forward onto the bar. Swinging it around, Blargh began roughly pulling off the bartender’s boot.


    “I always like to start with the toes,” Blargh said. “Once you chopped enough of them off, people realize you mean business, and they start worrying about what happens when you get to their fingers. If they have a brain in their head, they start wondering what’ll happen when they run out of toes and fingers.” He managed to get the man’s boot off. The man struggled to get away from him, and Blargh cuffed him a couple of times in the head. Blargh held his dagger above one of the man’s smallest toes, with the toe pressed against the bar.


    “If you struggle again, I’m going to take a couple of toes instead of just giving you a little love tap,” said Blargh. “Now, start talking, why did you drug our food?”


    Looking at Blargh in horror, the man said, “I didn’t, she did. It was her,” and nodded at the woman by the kitchen.


    “See,” Blargh said over his shoulder to Stephen. “Carving on him was the right choice. Don’t worry, I’ll get to her. If you need the question to be phrased all proper like, then why did you help her drug us?”


    “Count Lowther is a scientist who lives in a nearby castle,” said the man hesitatingly, staring at the blade against his foot. “Ervin Lowther. He makes us bring him strangers who come to town. Anyone dressed funny or without any knowledge of local customs. We’re afraid of him.”


    “He’s not here right now, I am, stay afraid of me,” Blargh said. He drew his dagger across the man’s toe and a thin red line of blood appeared. The man yelped.


    “How much does he pay you?” asked Blargh.


    “One guinea per body,” said the man, trembling.


    “Ho, ho, so you’re so afraid of him that he pays you well to abduct on his behalf,” said Blargh.


    “What do you mean, per body?” asked Stephen. Blargh shot him an annoyed look.


    “Just what the Count says, how he refers to people,” said the bartender.


    “Here’s what’s going to happen,” said Blargh. “You’re going to draw us a map of your shithole village, with directions to this castle. I’m going to tie the two of you up in your cellar. We’re going to leave, and you can start trying to get out of the rope - it’ll take you a few hours. If we run into problems, I’m going to come back here and cause problems for you. Understand?”


    “Yes, yes, I understand,” said the man. The mute woman nodded.


    ***


    Moving up the winding road, Count Lowther’s castle loomed above them. An enormous pair of wooden doors were shut. A smaller door stood next to them. A chain led to a large bell. Blargh looked at Stephen and, at the latter’s shrug, the former pulled the chain repeatedly, causing a loud, clanging sound that echoed.


    Three minutes later, a slot opened on the smaller door and an ugly man’s face peered out. “Who are you, what do you want?” he asked, scowling.


    “We’re here to meet with your master, Count Lowther,” said Stephen. “Our business is with him alone.”


    “Your business is with me right now, and I’m not letting you in unless you tell me what you’re after,” said the gatekeeper.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    With a sigh, Stephen said, “We’re searching for a dimensional traveler named Maggard. We think the Count might have knowledge of him and be able to set up a meeting or get a message from us to him.”


    The ugly man examined them thoughtfully with a scowl, then eventually said, “Fine, come in then, come in,” and opened the door. The castle was desolate, with covered furniture in most rooms. A moldy smell was present throughout. They didn’t meet any other servants, beyond the man who had met them at the door. The servant didn’t identify himself, but once inside they saw he was a hunchback in addition to his other deformities. After leading them through a maze of corridors and passageways, he brought them to a formal dining room.


    “Seat yourselves, and I’ll bring you refreshments while you wait. It will be many hours, many hours before the Count will be able to see you,” the servant said, then departed. Stephen, Shomos, Rurth, and Blargh sat down and talked about inconsequential things, in case someone was listening to them. After fifteen minutes, the servant returned and put out bread, sausages, cheese, a jug of ale, two bottles of wine, and a large pot of tea. After depositing the food and drink, he left again.


    “Don’t eat or drink anything,” Blargh leaned forward and whispered.


    Stephen leaned in and replied, “Of course not, we aren’t idiots.”


    Rurth leaned in and said, “Might they be offended if we don’t eat or drink anything?”


    Shomos leaned back in her seat and watched the three men. All three sat back in their chairs. Gathering some of the food and drink, Stephen traveled back to his pocket dimension, dumped them, then returned to Clodor. He shrugged at the others.


    The four people chatted and, when they got bored with chatting, dozed in their seats. Repeatedly, they all commented on how strong the musty smell was.


    “I keep thinking we’ll get used to it, then I notice it again,” said Stephen. “I don’t know how they stand it.”


    “The smells are a small part of what makes urban living so unpleasant,” said Shomos.


    After multiple hours, the four of them were lounging in their chairs waiting, when a well-dressed man swept into the dining room and announced, “I am Count Lowther, thank you for your patience waiting for me. I am glad to see you availed yourself of refreshments. What brings you to my humble abode? My manservant said you are searching for Maggard. Why would you seek out such a disreputable creature?” The strong musty smell seemed to intensify with his arrival.


    “I don’t really know that much about him,” admitted Stephen. “Certainly nothing about how disreputable he is. He creates library artifacts for dimensional travelers. I’m trying to learn more about the limits of dimensional travelers’ abilities, and he’s one of the few people who seems to have affected them. I want to talk to him to learn more.”


    “Ah yes, the library artifact. A very powerful device. With very secretive construction. You are diligent to have tracked it this far,” said the Count. “Many have tried to learn about it and not been as successful.”


    “There aren’t any other devices that I’m aware of that affect dimensional traveler abilities like it does,” said Stephen. “You seem to know about it and Maggard. Can you help me find him?”


    “Perhaps, perhaps,” said Count Lowther. “But tell me first about your adventures as a dimensional traveler, how you discovered your abilities and how you made your way here. Tell me about how you acquired your delightful champions.” He gestured at the assembled group.


    “Well, that’s a long story that I’m happy to tell you…” began Stephen.


    “Which we don’t need to tell, since we’ve found Maggard,” said Shomos, cutting him off. “It’s obviously him.”


    “Clever, clever,” said Maggard, eyeing the druidess. “So many travelers search for brute strength in their champions. Cleverness and intuition aren’t given their due.”


    “Maggard,” said Stephen. “We mean you no harm. I’ve come to learn from you. Your library artifact was recommended to me when I first met other travelers. I obtained one, and it’s very impressive. I’m trying to find a way to release cards. Taking control of champions is something I’m uncomfortable with, and I want to be able to offer them their freedom. I’ve seen Phodynn, and I’m concerned about the long term impact of our abilities on the realities we visit.”


    “Very heady subjects to concern yourself with,” said Maggard. “You say you mean me no harm, but you were quite rough with my representatives in the village, were you not?”


    “After they poisoned us first,” said Blargh in a surly tone of voice.


    “Ah, poison,” said Maggard. “What do they call it? ‘The weapon of a coward.’ I’ve never understood such moral judgments about how you kill someone. There are no rules in war, as they say. But perhaps you’d allow me to escort you to my dungeon, and we can continue this conversation down there.”


    Stephen looked awkwardly at the three people with him. “Uh, maybe it would be more comfortable to just keep talking here. I don’t think we want to go to a dungeon.”


    “I’m afraid I must insist,” said the Count. “Please don’t make this more unpleasant than it needs to be.”


    “I’m going to leave now, but I’m very interested in talking to you in the future. I’m no threat to you, and I’m very eager to learn from you. Let’s meet again when you’re feeling less threatened,” said Stephen.


    Everyone looked at him and there was silence for multiple heartbeats.


    “Maybe we should leave?” suggested Blargh.


    “I just tried, and it didn’t work,” said Stephen. “I can’t activate my dimensional travel card.”


    “I think you’ll find yourself unable to activate any of your cards,” said Maggard. “Come now, let’s head to the dungeons and settle you in.”


    “We’re not going to any dungeon,” said Blargh. Pulling out a revolver, he aimed it at the count. “Do you have firearms in this reality?”


    “Oh yes,” said Maggard mildly. “In this and many other realities.”


    “How did you poison us?” asked Stephen. “We didn’t eat or drink anything.”


    “Not all poisons are consumed,” said the Count. “For some, it’s just a matter of breathing them in.”


    “But you''re breathing the same air we are?” asked Stephen. “Are you poisoning yourself?”


    “I haven’t been in a room pumped full of it for hours,” said Maggard, eyeing Blargh with disdain. “This is becoming tiresome. Either come along or play with your little toy there.”


    Aiming directly at the Count''s chest, Blargh fired. A brief shimmer flashed in front of the Count, and Blargh collapsed. Stephen rushed over to him and saw a bullet hole in his chest and an expanding pool of blood around it. The former innkeeper made eye contact with Stephen, then his gaze went out of focus and he expired.


    “That wasn’t necessary,” Stephen said to Maggard.


    “He’s the one who shot me,” replied the other traveler, mildly.


    “After you tried to imprison us,” said Stephen.


    “After you tortured my servants,” said Maggard.


    “After they drugged us,” said Stephen.


    “After you invaded my realm,” said Maggard.


    “I keep trying to tell you,” said Stephen. “I’m here to talk and learn from you, this isn’t an invasion.”


    “Everything I’ve done has been to make it clear that I do not welcome visitors,” said the Count. “You came here despite that. To me, that makes this an invasion, and you forfeit any guest privileges or collegiality as a fellow traveler. We shall talk further once you’re more… settled.” Maggard began to stride from the room.


    “Wait,” called Stephen, to which the other traveler didn’t react and departed.


    “We need to get somewhere to regroup and get this poison out of my system so we can travel again,” said Stephen. “Any suggestions?”


    “I can shape-shift,” said Shomos, “but not into anything that could carry you. Just natural animals.”


    “Turn into a bird and fly off,” suggested Stephen. “Bring help if you can find any.”


    The druidess nodded, then shifted into the form of an eagle and launched herself from the window. Stephen and Rurth watched the large bird gaining altitude under the setting sun of the late afternoon, when a flock of enormous bats flew from somewhere above them in the castle after the departing woman.


    “Watch out!” shouted Stephen, but the eagle was already aware of the attackers and began taking defensive actions and winging away. The bats intelligently spread out and corralled the eagle, overtaking her in flight. The men watched as one of the bats, then a second, then a third attached themselves to her, biting the eagle and holding on to her. She struggled against the giant bats dragging her down, but soon lost the fight and the mass of creatures plummeted to the ground.


    Stephen looked down from the window and said, “I don’t think I could make that climb, we’re pretty high up.” Rurth looked out and shook his head.


    “Let’s try to get out the way we came,” suggested Stephen. “Spells ready?”


    “Ready,” said the young wizard.


    The pair moved to the doorway where Maggard had exited and entered the corridor. To their left, the way they’d entered, they saw three large humanoid creatures lurching slowly towards them out of the darkness of the corridor. Each was a gruesome assembly of body parts, built into a powerful creature.


    “Frankensteins,” said Stephen.


    “Flesh golems,” corrected Rurth.


    The two wizards each cast their light spell as they moved at a brisk pace away from the monsters. Hurrying down the passageway, they reached a section with alcoves to either side. They slowed and peered into the darkness, when a large hairy form lunged out of the alcove on the right side.


    Stephen let out a strangled cry as a seven-foot creature, an unholy combination of man and wolf, sprang onto Rurth. It bit down hard on the young wizard’s shoulder. Blood sprayed as the two fell to the ground. Stephen cast ‘magic missile’, which struck the werewolf and got its attention. The younger wizard was unmoving, and Stephen backed up as the werewolf began to stand again.


    From behind Stephen, a club wielded by the hunchbacked servant hit him hard, and everything went black.