Tymora's luck

OFFSTAGE

Somewhere else in the Prime Material Plane on the world known as Toril in Realmspace, Amber Wyvernspur watched with annoyance as her cousin Cory jumped across the marble tiles of the floor of the family mausoleum. Either Cory was especially lucky from being favored by Tymora or his father had been fool enough to demonstrate the secret pattern to him. A rectangular section of the floor dropped a foot lower than the surrounding floor and slid away, revealing a staircase leading downward.

"We have to hurry," Cory said. "The door doesn't stay open for long."

Tavan and Toran took up the torches they had just lit and took the lead. Cory, Lumen, and Ferrin hurried after them.

"Are there any spiders?" Heather asked uncertainly.

"Giant ones, as big as cats, with furry bodies," Olivia said gleefully. "We'll catch one and make it a pet."

"All right," Heather agreed. She didn't like spiders, but she loved cats.

The two younger girls headed down the stairs, leaving Amber with Pars.

"Pars, you don't have to come if you don't want to," the eldest Wyvernspur child said to her youngest brother.

"I'm not a baby," Pars shouted, and he started down the stairs, backward, so he could negotiate the steep steps without falling.

Amber sighed and followed behind him. The mausoleum had been chill, but on the stairs, warm air rose up from below. The warmth failed to dispel the gooseflesh on Amber's neck and arms.

At the bottom of the stairs the way was blocked with a heavy leaden door, on which was painted the image of a red wyvern. Heather pulled out Uncle Steele's key and turned it in the lock.

"What does that say?" Olivia asked, pointing to words engraved in the stone over the door.

Amber took Tavan's torch and held it up high. " 'None but Wyvernspurs shall pass this door and live,' " she read aloud.

"Neat!" Tavan said as he and his brother pushed open the door.

From the stairs above came a shout, a hoarse, growling war cry.

"What's that?" Ferrin whispered.

Amber looked back up the stairs with alarm. Something outside the mausoleum, something that must have been lurking in the graveyard, had followed them through the secret door. She squinted into the darkness and caught sight of glowing red eyes and the flash of a steel sword. A moment later she was able to make out the outline of a tall, hairy creature with a face like a pig's.

"It's an orc!" Amber shouted, throwing the torch she held at the creature. "Run!" she screamed.

The cousins raced through the door. Amber stopped only long enough to pick up Pars before dashing after the others. There was no time to close the door behind them.

The crypt beyond the door was a vast tunneled chamber with straight walls and a curved ceiling. The children's footfalls and screams echoed along the passage as they ran through the crypt. In the wall at the far end of the room was an arched opening that led to another stairway leading down.

"Wait!" Amber shouted as she passed beneath the arch. "Don't go down into the catacombs! It's dangerous down there!"

The others halted on the stairs and glared back at their eldest cousin.

"It's dangerous up here, too," Tavan whispered angrily. "Or hadn't you noticed, Lady Amber?"

"The orc can't get past the guardian," Amber said.

Tavan and Toran climbed back up to the landing beside the arched entrance and looked back into the crypt. By the light of the torch Amber had thrown, the children could make out at least five orcs hovering at the doorway at the opposite end of the crypt.

The orcs were grunting and growling at one another as if they were arguing about something. Finally two of the orcs entered the crypt and began moving slowly across the length of the stone chamber as silently as cats. They were dressed in shabby, torn clothing, but they were both armed with swords.

They're going to get us," Toran hissed.

"No. Look," Amber said, pointing toward the crypt's ceiling.

The shadow of a great wyvern, even more silent than the orcs, floated along the ceiling and hovered over the trespassers. Suddenly a great shadowy tail plunged downward twice-a quick stab into the back of each orc.

The orcs howled and fell forward stiffly, without any effort to break their fall. A shadowy wyvern's neck and head snaked down over its kill, lifted one of the orcs in its huge maw, and bit it in half with a sickening, crunching sound.

Pars began to cry. Amber covered his eyes, whispering, "Don't look, honey."

The orcs who had remained standing in the doorway screamed and shouted in their own language, but they made no effort to rescue their companions. Unfortunately they didn't leave, either, but stood eyeing the children at the other end of the room with hatred, waving their swords threateningly.

From the stairs where he stood transfixed with the other children, Gory murmured, "Uh-oh."

"I think we have another problem," Olivia said.

Amber looked down the stairs. Climbing up toward them were several black-scaled creatures with white horns and tails like rats. Amber recognized them as kobolds, monsters at least as vicious as orcs. They were no taller than Pars, but they held loaded crossbows, aimed directly at the children.

"I guess this is the proverbial rock and a hard place that Uncle Giogi's always talking about," Lumen muttered.

Inspired by the thought of his father, Gory declared, "Enough is enough!" He drew himself up to his full height and shouted down at the kobolds, "We carry the goddess Tymora's blessing. If you know what's good for you, you'll flee now."

The kobolds tittered and guffawed. The one in the lead drew himself up to his full height and, in a broken version of the common tongue, replied, "We carry blessings of Beshaba. We ask her kiss you with misfortune, you die."