Tomb Queens- Part 2

The day was already getting hot and the air thick in the valley north of Stranglethorn Vale. Although the valley was not the jungle proper, there were still vines and tall trees that crept along the perilous cliffs that bordered either side of the road. In the center of the valley, several trails met up and left a small space of open dirt. This space was presently occupied by a number of wagons and other strange conveyances, all connected to mechanostriders that the gnomes favored.

As a number of gnomes talked amongst themselves in small groups, a shadow flickered across the gathered wagons. Something partly eclipsed the sun again, and the gnomes looked up to see a dot circling above them in the sky, slowly growing larger as it descended. Within moments a skeletal gryphon could be made out, and the creature circled a few times before coming to rest in the center of the cleared area. Atop the gryphon sat a blonde woman wearing a deep black dress with silver threading on it, the sleeves of the garment coming to rest around her arms as the wind of her flight died down. She offered the gnomes a smile beneath her oddly glowing blue eyes as she hopped lightly from her saddle.

As she touched the ground, the skeletal gryphon hissed at her, a wing coming up to strike her with a hardened ridge of bone. She spun around with an unnatural movement, her fist clenched and her eyes blazing. The creature settled back on its haunches, its dead eyes staring her down as she muttered barely heard threats, moving quickly to remove a small bag and a large, stylish hat with a black feather on it. With a shake of her fist she dismissed her unruly, undead mount and turned, placing the hat on her head and walking towards the gnomes, her black boots crunching in the soil of the valley.

“Spanner!” Beckyann said with a smile. “I see you've got everything in order! Are you ready to begin then?”

The gnome she'd addressed was standing amongst the others, and walked towards her with a smile of his own. Short even for his own kind, his battered leather coat and fedora had a number of small gadgets and whirling thingamabobs attached to it. He paused before Beckyann, offering her a bow as one would in the presence of nobility, playing the social game that he knew she adored. “Aye m'lady. I've arranged for transport for you as well. This will be a profitable expedition.”

Beckyann's smile widened as the gnome offered her his arm, allowing the smaller creature to guide her her to a green painted carriage that sat in the midst of the convoy. Like the wagons, the carriage had mechanostriders attached to it, a gnome driver up on the driver's seat tipping his hat cheerfully at Beckyann as Spanner opened the door for her, “After you Miss Eastberg!”

Giggling, Beckyann stepped up into the luxurious carriage, smiling as the gnome climbed in beside her and closed the door. With a pat on the outside of the carriage door, he signaled for the driver to begin. Up above, the driver nodded to the drivers of the wagons and the entire convoy began to move with the sound of grinding gears and belching smoke as gnomish contraptions were bound to do.

They were off!

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Beckyann's laughter filled the inside of the carriage as Spanner delivered the punchline to his joke. As she laughed, the gnome studied the dead woman sitting across from her, noting the almost natural way that she found amusement in simple conversation, as if acting out the habits she'd had while alive somehow gave her more life. It was an odd experience to have a business associate like her, but to the gnome it was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. He smiled back warmly at the woman, looking down at the map that he'd unfolded during the journey. Studying it, he glanced out the window and then back down at the map, pointing to a spot on it.

“Looks like we're about halfway to the site now Miss Eastberg,” he said. Across from him, Beckyann nodded, her baleful eyes studying the markings on the map from her seat. Behind the carriage, the rest of the convoy was strung out along the narrow path that clung to the crest of one of the hills that sprung from the jungles of Stranglethorn, their mechanostriders leaving a trail of smoke behind them as the convoy moved along. They were making good time, and would reach the ruins they wished to explore with ample time to set up camp for the evening.

Beckyann leaned forward, her black lips parting to ask the gnome a question when a loud droning noise cut her off. Frowning, she tilted her head and stuck it out the window, the wind of the carriage's passing blowing errant strands of her blonde hair around her face. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of a large hot air balloon cresting the other side of the hill, its rear propeller allowing it to follow the trail through a hole in the jungle's canopy. Behind the balloon two others floated up, cages beneath them seeming to hold motorized trikes of some sort and skids to allow the cages to land. Beckyann turned to look back into the carriage at Spanner, her voice shouting out over the noise of the droning engines on the balloons and the wind of the carriage's movement.

“Friends of yours Spanner?” she asked somewhat sarcastically. She could already tell by the look on his face that they were NOT friends of his and that he hadn't expected this little change of plans.

The gnome shook his head slowly, yelling back, “It's Bix! She's the goblin I asked about the translations. I'd recognize her balloon anywhere! Not good!”

The words were an understatement of course. As Beckyann watched, a female goblin jumped up on to the railing of one of the balloons, a strange cylinder in her hands and a grin on her face. Beckyann knew enough about goblins to know that when they were grinning it was probably about to become somewhat explosive in the near future. The goblin gave Beckyann a mock wave before bringing the cylinder up and sighting down the length of it towards the wagon just behind her carriage. With the press of a button on the side, a missile shot out. The projectile trailed an inky black trail of smoke behind it as it twisted through the air, giving the driver of the wagon just enough time to leap clear before it struck the wooden conveyance and blew it to splinters.

Things happened rather quickly after that. The force of the blast threw Beckyann back into the carriage where she collided with Spanner. At the same time, the air blast swept their driver from his seat, sending their carriage on a suddenly directionless and careening path down the trail, picking up speed as it went. Behind them, the suddenly receding convoy was besieged as the two balloons following the goblin's disgorged their trikes, more goblins immediately assaulting the gnomes on the trailing wagons and capturing the lightly armed drivers.

Within the wagon, Spanner flailed wildly as the carriage struck rocks and bounced hard on the trail. He couldn't see with Beckyann's skirts and petticoats covering his head and the dead woman was not helping much as she was tossed around the inside of the carriage like a ragdoll. From beneath her, he shouted, his voice cut off as one of her boots stepped on his thigh and turning into a howl.

“Spanner!” Beckyann shouted, narrowly missing hitting her head on the edge of the carriage. “We have to get control of this thing before it-”

Of course, it was far too late. With a loud snapping noise the front axle of the carriage cracked on a particularly rough jolt as the wheels hit a hole in the trail. The carriage jumped upwards and off the narrow confines of the dirt road, splintered wood falling around it as it plunged into the depths of the jungle. Within the carriage Beckyann and Spanner found themselves tossed about roughly as the quickly fragmenting wooden walls began to buckle from repeated collisions with vegetation.

With an ear splitting crack the carriage slammed into a wide tree, cracking into a thousand tumbling pieces and sending the gnome and dead woman plunging into thin air, the canyon hundreds of feet below them. In mid-flight, Beckyann ignored the screams of her gnomish companion as she scanned the area around her. Thinking quickly, she reached out, a tendril of necromantic magic death gripping a nearby vine and sending it towards her. She grabbed Spanner's hand, successfully catching him in her inhumanly strong grip as her other hand snatched the vine.

With a wild scream from the gnome, the two swung out over the jungle, the ruins of their carriage just missing them as it plunged down into the jungle far below with the echoes of breaking wood. Beckyann swung her arm lightly, allowing Spanner to grab the vine and hold on as they swung back and forth for a moment, taking stock of their situation and presumably on the gnome's part, allowing his racing pulse to calm down.

“You know the second wagon had the troll mask right?” Spanner said lightly after he'd calmed down.

Beckyann looked down at him, frowning and biting her lip in irritation. Of COURSE the goblins had captured the mask. The mask they needed in order to enter the ruins. In an almost sarcastic tone she replied, “I think we have other concerns right now Spanner. Besides, she didn't actually get to copy the inscription did she? It'll take her a little while to figure out where the ruins are. We'll have time to find her.”

As if to confirm Beckyann's statement, the droning hum of a balloon in flight filled the air and the two saw Bix's hot air balloon rise above the canopy of the jungle. From the glimpses they got of it, it was headed in the general direction of Booty Bay.

Beckyann looked down at the gnome and offered him a tight lipped smile, “Told you so.”

Spanner just looked at her and said, “Snakes.”

Beckyann frowned, looking up at the vine just in time to see a snake rearing its head up to strike at her. Although such a creature would never have harmed her, the instincts of life were hard to let go of and she reared back, releasing the vine with a squeal. The squeal turned into a long, drawn out wail as she plummeted into the jungle far below, her dress fluttering around her as if she were some discarded black flower.

Spanner sighed, watching as his companion landed squarely in a river far below. He smirked a bit, knowing that she would hate what it would do to her hair. Such a fall would hardly be deadly for one such as her, and as if to confirm his suspicions he immediately saw flares of necromantic energy beneath the churning water as she lashed out at something far below.

With a smile, the gnome released his own hold on the vine, pushing a button on his vest and deploying a small parachute as he fell down towards the jungle below. As he fell, he mused aloud to himself, “Snakes AND crocs. And who said archaeology was boring?”

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As the gnome landed and folded his parachute up by the river's edge, a ragged looking Beckyann dragged herself from the water, cursing loudly and wringing water from the sleeves of her dress. Her hair was a mess, and in the river behind her several dead crocolisks floated belly up. The gnome offered Beckyann a smile and even took off his coat, offering it to her as one might a living woman. The gesture, while pointless, had the effect he'd intended of cheering her morale a bit. She did so love to be treated like she was really alive.

“It seems our little expedition is over before it's begun Miss Eastberg,” he said sadly as she declined his offer with a smile and a shake of her head.

Beckyann grinned at him, muttering a spell under her breath. A freezing cold gale blew around her, the water on her body turning to ice almost instantly. With a smile she slowly cracked it by moving her limbs beneath it, removing much of the water from her person. She muttered again, and over the natural sounds of the jungle a dire screech could be heard as her undead gryphon answered the call of its mistress.

Beckyann looked at Spanner, her baleful eyes alight with future revenge. As a spec appeared in the sky above them, she straightened her dress as best she could and shook her head.

“The expedition is over when I am in that tomb, lost in its wonders my friend,” she said, her voice chilling. “Your friend will learn soon enough what it means to stand in my way.”

Spanner barked out a laugh and shook his head, “She's no friend of mine. Friends don't blow up your best 'striders and leave you stranded in the jungle. As I said, can't trust a goblin for anything.”

The screeching above them grew louder as Beckyann's undead gryphon plunged through the canopy, and the dead woman looked at her friend and smiled, “Then let's go get our mask back, and steal back our prize.”