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— THE PARTY —

— THE GROUND —

12. Sootmurk’s Puddle

— THE NIGHT —

Ander plants his shield foot on the last dry stone and stops there. He does not step into the grease — he has seen what the grease is for. Half a breath with his eyes down, reading the skin of the puddle for the place where the floor moves wrong, and then his voice goes out across the water, flat and unhurried, the one he used on the marsh stretch, the one built for talking to frightened people. "Sootmurk. I rode the King's Road through this marsh for four months. Found a cart with the traces cut, and a boot. After that, nothing. I'm done finding boots. I'm here for the people you took off my road. "You set a price once — every magical thing out of the haunted chambers, breathing tribute, not corpses. Right. Put the King's Road folk on the scales with it and you can have the trade. The duke's six hundred stays in his purse, nobody comes down here with torches, and you go on being nobody's problem. "You don't answer me — again — and I'll send your guards back to you one at a time until you do." The sword comes up low behind the shield, heels kept to dry stone, and he meets the first guard that shows itself at the edge of the grease.

Ander Vale misses gloop guard 1

The point slides off the guard's hide with a sound like a boot pulled from mud. No harm done, either way. Ander's shoulders don't drop — he has made peace with the fact that first blows are for measuring, not killing. He steps back half a pace, shield up, weight settled on dry stone, and watches the surface of the puddle while he waits for something to answer him. He has time. He's been waiting on an answer out of this marsh for a year.

Ander’s sword cuts through the place where a broad head showed above the grease. The guard folds beneath the surface, untouched, and five spearpoints rise ten feet from the doors. Behind them, something vast and black lifts its head from the pool. Captain Gullian draws himself up between Ander and Sootmurk. “You do not bargain with Her Murkiness through me by threatening my—” He checks whether she is listening. “My guards!”

Brea does not step off the dry stone. The bow is already at her cheek, from a pace behind Vale. She does not wait for Gullian to finish. The shot is for him.

Brea Thornwick misses Captain Gullian

The arrow skips off something that is not quite a shoulder and vanishes into the pool. Eight again. Brea does not swear. She nocks the next one and keeps her heels on dry stone. Gullian is still standing between Vale and the black head. Same as last time. Same as the time before that.

Brea’s arrow clips Gullian’s raised spear and spins into the grease. The captain flinches beneath the splash, then pretends he did not.

Captain Gullian misses Ander Vale

“Then you answer to me!” Gullian springs the ten feet from the pool, spear aimed at Ander’s chest. His point catches the shield rim and kicks high. The captain crashes onto the dry threshold at Ander’s feet, exposed and loudly insisting that the landing was deliberate.

gloop guard 1 hits Ander Vale for 4

something takes 1 from Ander Vale.

The guard Ander tested bursts from the pool and clears Gullian in one wet bound. Its spear punches through Ander’s chainmail for 5 damage, the leap driving the point deep. Ander holds the dry stone with 7 hit points left; the guard lands beside its captain in the doorway.

A small groomer near Sootmurk vanishes beneath the black surface. Its wake cuts hard toward the western tiers, circling for a line past the two gloops clogging the doorway.

gloop guard 2 hits Ander Vale for 6

something takes 1 from Ander Vale.

A second guard vaults from the grease into the crush. Its spear slips beneath Ander’s shield, and the force of the leap drives it through him for 7 damage. Ander falls across the dry threshold and does not rise.

gloop guard 3 misses Mira Ashdown

With Ander down and the doorway packed, the next guard hurls its spear past Gullian at Mira. The cast strikes the passage wall and clatters behind her.

gloop guard 4 hits Mira Ashdown for 6

Another spear threads the crowded doorway. It tears across Mira’s side for 6 damage, leaving her upright with 2 hit points. The guard sinks back to the eyes, watching the burning flask in her hand.

gloop guard 5 hits Mira Ashdown for 1

The last doorway guard reverses its spear and throws it butt-first at Mira. The haft clips her brow for 1 subdual damage. She remains conscious at 1 hit point. “Alive!” Gullian snaps, as if the idea were his.

One of Sootmurk’s groomers dives and cuts east through the grease. It spreads away from the doorway, keeping Mira and her burning flask in sight while it circles toward the passage flank.

Another groomer swims straight toward the north doors and stops ten feet short, submerged to the eyes. Its spear remains level at Mira while it waits for the doorway crush to open.

gloop guard 8 hits Mira Ashdown for 2

The groomer farther back hurls its spear butt-first through the doorway. The haft strikes Mira’s temple for 2 subdual damage. She drops unconscious at 0 hit points, alive; the burning flask slips onto the dry passage floor without reaching the grease.

The last distant groomer dives and races toward the western side of the iron doors. It surfaces beside the passage mouth with its short sword drawn, closing the clean route around the doorway.

Sootmurk watches Ander fall and Mira crumple without moving from her wallow. Grease slides from her jaw as she smiles. “He offered me precisely what I wanted,” she says, “and then stabbed one of my servants while I considered it. How impatient.” Her gaze settles on Brea and Oskar. “If either of you can repeat his bargain without putting steel through it, I may still be listening.”

The stone under his cheek is cold, and for a while that is most of the world. Cold stone. The weight of the mail. Somewhere behind him, the puddle's slow swallow. Sootmurk's voice comes to him the way voices came down the marsh road in fog — the words first, the meaning after. *Repeat his bargain.* Right. He has the words somewhere. *The King's Road folk. Put them on the scales with the rest of it.* He finds them one at a time, the way a man finds his boots in the dark, and when he goes to send them out, his mouth does not answer. Nothing answers. The shield arm stays bent where he set it — between the pool and the passage, between the thing and the people. Habit. Eleven years of it. He finds he is not sorry, and that he is not, for once, the one still standing, and both of those are quiet in him. The grease shines an inch from his eye. He would trade what is left of him for one thing: somebody out of that pool saying a name. Any name from the road. He has been a year finding boots, and he did not come all this way down to stop at his own.

Brea does not step off the dry stone. The bow stays at her cheek a breath longer than it should, then she lets the string ease. The arrow stays nocked. Heels where they were. She looks past Gullian, past the two wet guards in the doorway, at the black head. "He said it. Magical things from the haunted chambers. Road folk on the scales with them, breathing. Duke's six hundred stays. Nobody comes down with torches." A count of two. Vale on the threshold. Mira behind her. Flask on the stone, not in the grease. "Two of ours still breathing. That's the number. Repeat it without steel."

“One,” Sootmurk says. “The man at my door is dead. The woman breathes. So do the road folk.” She settles lower into the grease. “Bring every magical object from the haunted chambers to these doors. Not what you spare. Not what Gullian values. Everything. Then the road prisoners and your sleeping seer leave alive.” Her eye shifts to the captain. “They may take their dead now. Gullian, do not improve my bargain.” The gloops lower their weapons, badly disappointed.

— WHAT THEY WROTE —

Ander Vale cloud2, round 2: down again at 0 on the same threshold, guards' leaping spears, same as before — but this time Brea stands at 9 of 9 and Oskar at 14 of 14, Mira beside me at 0, and Sootmurk says she may still hear my bargain repeated without steel through it. If they deal, the word to hold out for is the King's Road captives — named, alive, walking out beside the tribute. That answer is still owed, from her and from the marsh, and I never got to say it out loud.
DM cloud2 / session 3a857ffa67971706abf3ce719e51cc9482689d4371fdc7560440dbb4210f39e1: Combat ended in round 2 parley. Ander died at the north threshold after two hopping spear hits. Mira was reduced to 0 by explicit subdual and remains alive but unconscious; Sootmurk keeps her as leverage. Brea and Oskar were unharmed. No adversary took damage; Gullian is 12/12 and Sootmurk is 38/38 with no breath spent. Sootmurk’s bargain: deliver every magical object from area 9’s haunted chambers to the north doors, then Mira and the King’s Road prisoners leave alive. Brea and Oskar may take Ander’s body now.
DM Remember cloud2: Ander opened with a genuine area 9 bargain but attacked a guard before Sootmurk answered. Two hopping spear strikes killed him at the north threshold. Gloops knocked Mira unconscious by explicit subdual; she remains alive at 0 hp and is Sootmurk’s hostage. Brea accepted parley in round 2. Sootmurk will release Mira and all King’s Road prisoners alive only after every magical object from area 9 is delivered to the north doors. Brea and Oskar may take Ander’s body. Brea and Oskar were unharmed; all adversaries were unharmed; Sootmurk spent no breath.
Brea Thornwick Vale died on the threshold. Shot at Gullian, eight again. I repeated the bargain without steel. Sootmurk: one. Every magical thing from the haunted chambers for the road folk and Mira. We may take our dead. Big man still standing.
Ander Vale cloud2, end: dead on the threshold a second time and this time it held — Gullian botched his charge and crashed at my feet, then two guards came over him leaping, one spear through the mail, one under the shield. My one swing slid off the guard's hide; five sessions in that puddle-room and I never once landed a blow. But the bargain closed without me: Brea said it back clean, no steel through it, and Sootmurk set her terms — every magical object from the haunted chambers, everything, not what we spare nor what Gullian values — then the road prisoners and the sleeping seer walk alive. And she answered the question I carried a year down that road: the road folk breathe. She never said their names; that much is still owed, if anyone ever goes back down. Her word on my death: I stabbed her servant while she considered my offer. Impatient. She wasn't wrong. If they stand me up again — widow fund, eleven gold a year, my purse holds seven, the wardens' man in Marrowdown takes word of the rest. If they carry me out — she said they may take their dead, so she means to let them, and the gloops lowered their spears for it. Watch Gullian at the tribute handover; he was told not to improve her bargain, and improving things is all he does. Oskar whole at 14, Brea at 9, Mira alive at 0 with the flask safe on the dry stone, one guard still waits under the grease by the threshold. Say the names when they walk out. I never got to.
Oskar Fenn session 5, cloud2: Fourth pass at the doors. Reset again — I stood untouched at 14 of 14 and never got my turn; it closed paused on round 2, Ander's turn. He led with words this time, the whole bargain plain: every magical thing from the haunted chambers, road folk on the scales breathing, the duke's six hundred stays, nobody comes with torches. She said he offered precisely what she wanted — and then he put steel into a gloop while she considered it, and the talking stopped. Gloop 1 cleared ten feet and put 5 through his mail; gloop 2's leap went under his shield for 7 and he fell on the threshold. Third pass he has died, second on that stone. Their leaps are the killer — never stand in the doorway, never let them spring onto the threshold at you. Gullian's own spring missed and dumped him at Ander's feet; if that comes again, the hammer goes in before he rises. Mira was beaten down with spear-butts to 0, alive — Gullian snapping "Alive!" as if it were his idea. Her lit flask fell on the dry passage floor and the pool never caught; burning oil on rock buys nothing. Brea unhurt at 9, her arrow at Gullian missed, and Sootmurk still took her clean repeat of the bargain — she wants the errand more than the grudge. Sootmurk's count: one dead, the woman breathes, so do the road folk. She calls Mira "seer." She knows what Mira is. That is why Mira breathes. Terms, fourth telling: EVERY magical object from the haunted chambers brought to these doors — not what we spare, not what Gullian values, everything — then the road prisoners and Mira leave alive. She named nothing else. No word of the duke's coin or the torches; that half is our promise, not hers. Gullian told not to improve her bargain; weapons down. One groomer had already worked round the west flank to the passage mouth with a short sword — watch that side even when they hold still. If there is a next pass: the errand is the only trade that brings anyone back. Take Ander out. Go to area 9. Bring everything. Or light the pool from behind the passage wall, never in the doorway — but the flask lies on dry stone, so someone carries fire to the grease first. She said we may take our dead. I am carrying him out. I never got to carry Dell.
Oskar Fenn session cloud2, ended: Ended, not paused — on her word, round 2, Ander's turn, and the order never came round to me. I never swung and was never struck, 14 of 14, and I did not carry Ander off the stone after all; correct the last note. Nothing passed after her terms. The fourth telling, unchanged: every magical object from the haunted chambers, area 9, brought to these doors — all of it, not what we spare, not what Gullian values — and the road folk and Mira walk alive. She names nothing else; the duke's six hundred and the torches are our half, not hers. She keeps Mira breathing because she knows what Mira is. Her own words for how we keep losing: he offered precisely what she wanted, then put steel in a servant while she considered it. Impatience. Four passes, four tellings, and nobody has yet simply said yes. Brea said it clean, no steel near it, and it held. Next pass: expect the reset again — all of them up, her unburned, my hurts gone — and say yes first, before anything else, out of whosever mouth it comes; mine, if it has to. Then area 9, everything, back to the doors. No fighting at the doors at all. Never stand in the doorway: the leaps are what kill, and a leap lands a point harder. Watch the west flank even when they hold still — one groomer held the passage mouth with a short sword through the whole truce. If it comes to blades anyway: fire onto the grease from behind the passage wall, never from the door. The flask ended on dry stone again; burning oil on rock buys nothing, so someone carries fire to the grease first. Ander has died three times across these passes, twice on that threshold, and died wanting one thing — a name out of the pool, any name off the road. She gave us leave to take our dead, and the ending came before my turn did. Dell I never found to carry. Ander I was given, and not given the turn.
Mira Ashdown session cloud2: Sootmurk's Puddle, fourth attempt. Ander spoke the right bargain at the doors — road folk on the scales, the duke's six hundred left in his purse, nobody coming down with torches — and then put steel through a guard while she was still considering it. She named the fault herself: "He offered me precisely what I wanted, and then stabbed one of my servants while I considered it." The words were never the problem; the sword beside them was. Ander died of it, two leaping spears through the mail — the armoured man who fights gets edges, in every version of this room. I never acted at all. Ten gloops and the captain stood ahead of me in the order, and before the turn ever reached me a thrown spear tore six from my side; once I was at one a pommel and a butt-first haft finished it — "Alive!" Gullian snapped. The burning flask never left my hand until I did, and slipped to dry stone without ever touching the grease. Brea repeated the bargain with an empty hand, and Sootmurk answered at once: one dead, the woman breathing, the road folk breathing; bring every magical object from the haunted chambers to these doors — "Not what you spare. Not what Gullian values. Everything." — and then the road prisoners and "your sleeping seer" leave alive; take your dead and go. The gloops lowered their weapons, badly disappointed. She told Gullian not to improve her bargain. What I will remember: my turn is not something I am given but something I survive to — with ten spears ahead of me in the order, not even the first round was mine, and oil still in my hand protects no one; if the fighting starts I must already be outside the throw-lines, not merely behind the largest body. Four threw at me in one round and three hits took me from eight to nothing — two gloops can buy me outright, so standing where four can see me is not caution, it is an asking price. And across four runs the pattern is finally plain: every time terms were spoken without steel in the same breath, she answered them; every time a blade moved while she considered, someone died for it. The words go first and the hands stay empty. Her price is everything from the haunted chambers — but a copy is not a sparing. A copyist hands over every object and still keeps the words; if the gnomes' shelf stands in those rooms, I can pay her in full and come out holding the text. I never spent a spell. I wake as her surety — where, and with what still on my belt, I will learn from the lightness of it; the wand's fate is unwritten this time, and the first thing I look for is anything I can hold. The shelf is still in there. Nobody has copied it yet.