Roderick
“I know why you seek the lost city of Xulthar,” the old crone said as she peered over the top of her crystal ball. “But the riches hidden therein will bring you nothing but evil and sorrow.”
Roderick the Young of House Valtan stood up straight with his shoulders back, his sharp eyes scanning the old crone from head to toe. His broad hand unconsciously brushed the hilt of his sword; it was a weapon that had seen more than its fair share of use. Unlike most nobles, his boots were worn and caked with dust, his face lined with the sun and wind of the open road—a testament to the hard times that had fallen on his house. But Roderick was not one to let the whims of fate define him.
“What do you mean, old woman? Speak your prophecy.”
The haggard old fortune teller wore faded and tattered robes, with a threadbare shawl that seemed as old and gray as she was. Clearly, no false and flattering sibyl was she. Roderick had sought her out for that very reason, foregoing all of the more popular soothsayers with their smooth words and their gilded tongues. With all that he had lost, he had no appetite for their lies.
The crone’s eyes pierced through Roderick’s soul like needles, her voice a deathly hiss that sent shivers coursing through his veins.
“Behold! I see a city of endless riches and unimaginable treasures, watched over by an infernal force of dark magic. You must face this terror, Roderick of House Valtan, and uncover the reason for your family’s demise. But know this – the path ahead is littered with danger, for even if you succeed in defeating the evil power, it will not restore your house to its former glory or bring you the honor you seek.
Her words stabbed him like a dagger to the heart. Honor was indeed the object of his quest, and the riches of Xulthar were merely a means to that end. The fact that the sibyl had divined as much spoke to her clairvoyance, since by all outward appearances, he was simply another young adventurer seeking his fortune. But even if the riches of Xulthar were cursed, he could not back down now; he had come too far and sacrificed too much.
“But will I defeat that dark power, and restore my family’s honor?” Roderick asked.
The sibyl clucked her tongue. “The future is not set in stone, young lord. You, not I, have the power to shape your own destiny.”
Roderick scowled impatiently. “I did not come into your tent to hear platitudes, old woman. Look into your crystal ball and tell me what will be if I defeat this dark sorceror and seize the riches of Xulthar for my own.”
The crone’s eyes glinted in the dim light of her tent as she glared into the depths of her crystal ball. “I see naught but a life of suffering and misery for you, my lord. Xulthar’s riches are cursed beyond your wildest dreams. If you dare step foot on this path, it will come at an immense cost, even if you emerge from it victorious.”
“But if I do not take this journey, then my family will never reclaim its lost honor and our house will be erased from existence forever.”
“As you have spoken, young lord.”
Roderick grunted. “Better to meet a cursed but honorable end than to take the coward’s path. If this is to be my destiny, I will not turn from it.”
The old crone nodded solemnly, her aged and wrinkled face softening with sympathy. “Beware, young lord! The evil that lurks within the ruins of Xulthar is so great that even I cannot foresee how your fate is intertwined with it. Your bravery is admirable, but the path that you choose will have consequences beyond your own life. Indeed, it may affect the fate of our entire world.”
“Then I will choose this path,” Roderick said grimly, “even if it brings me naught but sorrow.”
He adjusted his sword belt and turned to leave. As soon as his back was turned, the ball began to glow anew.
“There is something else,” the old crone prophesied, her gaze fixated on the vision within the crystal ball. “I see a young woman, beautiful and fair…”
But Roderick had already stepped out of her tent, his mind consumed with brooding thoughts.
Roderick
The tavern was as dark and smokey as the hot afternoon sky was bright and clear. Roderick narrowed his eyes as he adjusted his sword belt and peered at the long wooden tables, which were mostly unoccupied at this hour. A short raven-haired wench was washing down the table nearest to him, the hem of her billowing dress stained almost black with ash and spilled food and drink. She stood up straight as Roderick entered.
“Milord,” she said with a respectful curtsy.
He ignored her for the moment as his eyes scanned the room. Three scrawny chickens were roasting on a spit over the coals in the fireplace, while behind the bar, a fat, balding barkeep mindlessly cleaned pewter mugs. A warm breeze blew through the unshuttered windows, only marginally cooling the air.
For a moment, Roderick thought he had made a mistake. Then his ears caught the sound of laughter, and in the far corner, he found what he had sought.
“My friends,” he muttered, grunting as he pointed to the far table. The tavern wench nodded and smiled as he passed her without another word.
“Rod!” said Andrej, slapping him heartily on the back as Roderick took the seat next to him on the bench. “It’s good to see you, friend. Care for a drink?”
Roderick raised an eyebrow. “At this early hour?”
“Why not?” Jura said merrily across the table. “Andrej is paying!”
“There you are mistaken,” Andrej retorted with a mischevious smile. “Our beloved Lord Valtan is subsidizing our libations on this auspicious occasion, since he it was who called us to this council. Forsooth?”
Roderick sighed heavily. “Just as long as you don’t get drunk.”
“It may be too late for that, Lord,” Jura said with a trinkle in his eye. He held out his mug, and the wench hurried over with a pitcher of ale.
“Enough of that!” Roderick snapped. “I didn’t call you here to celebrate the occasion. I called you here to make plans.”
The tavern wench stopped pouring, and at a sharp glance from Roderick she scurried back behind the bar. Andrej clucked his tongue.
“You always have such a serious demeanor, Rod,” Andrej said, taking a swig of ale. “Can’t we just enjoy each other’s company for once?”
Roderick scowled. “This is not a social visit, Andrej. We are here to discuss our… pending expedition.”
“You mean our quest for the lost city of Xulthar?”
“Not so loud!” Roderick snapped, glancing around the room. But Andrej and Jura just laughed.
Roderick’s frown deepened. “This is no laughing matter. Xulthar is a place of great danger. We must approach it with caution and a clear head.”
“Of course, of course,” Jura said with a wave of his hand. “But we’ve been planning this for months. We know what we’re doing.”
“Maybe,” Roderick said, “but we must stay focused. We cannot let the promise of riches cloud our better judgement.”
“But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?” Andrej said, grinning. “We’re doing this for the gold.”
Roderick’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not just about the gold for me. It’s about my father, and restoring my family’s honor.”
“Well, that’s all well and good,” Jura said with a shrug, “but I’m in it for the gold.”
Roderick shook his head. “You’re missing the point. This is not just a treasure hunt. Xulthar is not just some abandoned city. It is a place of great power and danger. We must be careful.”
“Relax, Rod,” Andrej said, clapping him on the back. “We’ll be careful. But we’ll also have a good time.”
Roderick sighed. His companions were not taking the expedition seriously enough. They didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. But he had to make them understand.
“Listen to me,” Roderick said, leaning in close. “In Xulthar, we will face not only physical challenges but also those of the mind and soul. The treasure we seek is cursed, and it will corrupt anyone who seeks to possess it. We must be vigilant and resist its lure.”
Andrej and Jura looked at each other and then burst out laughing. The sound of their merriment was like a dagger to Roderick’s heart.
“You think this is funny? Xulthar is no laughing matter. It is said that the city fell to an evil and sorcerous power, which slaughtered all of its inhabitants in a single day. That power still holds sway over the treasure contained within the ruins, and it destroys those who fall to it. Their bodies are possessed by demons, their minds reduced to nothing more than an addling soup.”
The laughter died down as they listened to him speak, but Roderick could sense that they still didn’t fully believe him.
“Look, Rod,” Andrej said, placing a hand on Roderick’s shoulder, “we know you’re worried, but we’re not a bunch of greenhorns. We’ve been on plenty of dangerous expeditions before. We can handle ourselves.”
“We’ll be careful,” Jura added. “And besides, even if there is a curse, we’ll just have to make sure we have the right magical protections.”
Roderick sighed again, feeling the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders. He had to make sure that his companions understood the danger they were about to face.
“We’ll need to be prepared,” Roderick said, pacing back and forth. “Xulthar is hidden in the deep desert, and no one has ever returned from there. The journey will be long and arduous, and we’ll have to be prepared for anything.”
He looked at Andrej and Jura expectantly. They nodded in agreement.
“We’ll need supplies,” Andrej said, taking charge. “Food, water, weapons…all sorts of things.”
Jura chimed in as well. “And spells! We can’t forget about magical protection.”
Roderick nodded in agreement. This was all true, but there was something else they were forgetting about – something far more important than any physical preparation.
“But most importantly,” he said gravely, “we must protect ourselves from the temptations of the cursed treasure we seek.”
The two adventurers stared at him in surprise. “What do you mean?” Andrej asked with a furrowed brow.
“The curse of Xulthar is not just a physical danger,” Roderick explained. “It is a corrupting force that preys on our darkest desires and weaknesses. We must be vigilant against its influence, or else we risk falling to its power.”
Jura crossed his arms, looking skeptical. “And how do we protect ourselves from that? Do we just avoid the treasure altogether?”
Roderick shook his head. “No, we cannot simply ignore the treasure. It is our goal, after all. But we must be strong of will and clear of purpose. We cannot let our greed or ambition overpower us. We must remember why we are on this journey and what we hope to achieve with the treasure.”
There was a moment of silence as Andrej and Jura considered what Roderick had said. Then Andrej spoke up, a note of determination in his voice.
“I understand what you’re saying, Rod. And I promise you, I won’t let the curse get to me. I’m here to help you restore your family’s honor and get rich in the process.”
Jura nodded in agreement. “Me too. I’m not going to let some curse steer me off course.”
“Very well,” Roderick said, finally relenting. “But we must be cautious. We don’t know what we’ll face in that cursed city. We’ll need to rely on each other and be prepared for anything.”
Andrej and Jura nodded in agreement, and they all raised their mugs in a toast.
“To Xulthar,” Andrej said with a grin.
“To the treasure we’ll claim,” Jura added, clinking his mug against Andrej’s.
“And to glory and honor we’ll win,” Roderick said, feeling a sense of dread wash over him. Though his friends seemed confident in their plans, Roderick couldn’t help but worry they weren’t taking this dangerous journey seriously enough. What if something happened to them out there? Would they abandon him, or stand by him in the face of adversity? He only hoped he could trust his companions when it came time to confront the power of Xulthar’s curse.
