Durant's Yellow Jackets
Episode Four:
The City of the Lost
Part Two of Two

Franck and Karl took the last watch of the night. Durant had said no more than four hours’ sleep, and
there were less than ten minutes remaining by Karl’s estimate. From their vantage point atop the
stepped pyramid, the mercenaries had a better idea of the size of the lost city. The pyramid they had
camped on formed a ring of six identical structures with a much larger pyramid in the centre. One of the
pyramids to the left of theirs was toppled and crumbling, barely rising above the tree line of the jungle.
All of the pyramids were overgrown with creeping vines, which broke up their outlines and gave the
whole place a feeling of complete isolation from civilisation. The sky was beginning to brighten, sunrise
was barely an hour away. Frank looked over at Karl.

“Best be waking them, eh?” he said quietly. Karl was thumbing the chain links of his flail, keeping his
eye out for any sign of life.

“Yeah, the sooner the better if you ask me. There’s just something about carnivorous plants. It ain’t
right.”

“I know what you mean.”

A loud crack caught Franck’s tongue, and his head snapped round to the sudden noise. Karl was
already standing, flail poised for action. There was silence again.

“What was that?” whispered Franck. Before Karl had the chance to reply, a second bang split the air,
followed by a third and a fourth. A long drawn out series of bangs, coming from the central pyramid.

“They’re drumbeats,” said Karl.

“I thought this was a ‘lost’ city!” said Franck.

“I guess somebody else found it too.”

The drumming continued to rumble, and half of the Yellow Jackets, including Captain Durant, were
stirred from their troubled sleep. While Franck saw to those still slumbering, a groggy Durant
clambered forward to Karl’s position.

“Natives?” asked Durant.

“That’d be my guess,” replied Karl. “From the sound of that drumming, there must be quite a few of
them.”

“That could but a real snotling in our tea. Arbach’s map says the Shrinking Gem is in the main pyramid.”

“Shame he couldn’t give us the information about the lost city being inhabited.”

“I’ll have words, for what good it’ll do us. With all this jungle around, it’ll be difficult to get some recon on
their numbers. At least we should be able to get a jump on them, they’re probably not expecting visitors.
Perhaps…”

Durant trailed off. There was movement on the top of the greater pyramid. A steady stream of lizards -
walking upright like men - filed out of a gaping archway that resembled the mouth of a giant lizard.

“Lizardmen?” said Durant incredulously. As he watched, the lizardmen continued to stride out of the
opening. The drum beats grew slower and louder, as a pair of lizardmen with elaborate purple
headdresses strode out. Behind them, half a dozen more lizardmen carried two wooden objects above
their heads. Durant squinted. He thought he could see movement on top of the wooden poles. He saw
flashes of colours, reds, blues. Yellow.

“Cap’n,” said Karl. “It’s-”

“Wilhelm!” said Durant, his eyes able to distinguish clearly the yellow jackets worn by the two men.
“Heinz!”

Durant was already drawing his two pistols, preparing to leap straight down into the jungle below them.
Karl’s strong hands held him back.

“That’d be stupid, sir.” He grabbed hold of Durant, and fixed him squarely with his single eye. “You
charging off recklessly will just get you killed. It wouldn’t save anybody. Take a moment. We need a
plan.”

Durant continued to struggle for a moment, then a look in Karl’s eye showed him that the big man was
feeling the same outrage. Karl was just thinking more clearly.

“Look, cap’n. We’ve got good marksmen. Sure, we could really use Heinz’s aim right about now, but
these lads will have to prove their worth. And this here pyramid’s a perfect vantage point. So I suggest
we get ourselves down, and get over there to rescue our comrades.”

“You’re right Karl, I’m glad you’re here to be my extra brain.”

“Come on cap’n, we need to get them out of there.”


Wilhelm decided it was an odd sensation being carried around, tied to a pole by a bunch of overgrown
lizards. As they emerged into the open air, after an uncomfortably tight staircase, Wilhelm was pleased
to see the sky. Morning had arrived, and soon the sun would be rising. The jungle below them steamed
and swayed in the light breeze. It was almost refreshing after a sleepless night cramped in a cage.

“You still there Heinz?”

“Wish I was in Marienburg to be honest Wilhelm.”

“I’m with you on that one.”

“S-silence man,” said the lizardman priest in front of him. “When the glorious s-sunrise breaks, we will
give our offerings to Sotek, and maybe he will s-spare your s-sufferings.”

Wilhelm broke into a smile.

“You mean if he is happy, you’ll let us go? You’ll let us live?”

The priest’s mouth spread in a wide smile. He tone took on a harsher edge.

“No. You will definitely die. But perhaps Sotek will s-spare your s-souls from the clutches of Chaos.”
Wilhelm couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard the sound of laughter. “Now, s-silence!”

At a command from the priests, the Skinks stopped marching and drumming. Another shout in the
guttural lizardman tongue and Heinz and Wilhelm found themselves being pushed upright. The poles
they were attached to sunk into a pair of holes. Looking ahead Wilhelm could see jungle stretching
away from him towards the ever-brightening horizon. Looking down, he saw a square pit cut into the
shape of a bowl. Lizard heads were sculpted onto six points of the bowl, their tongues extended.

“That, man, is where your blood will flow. May it please almighty Sotek!” said the priest. He held up a
golden staff with both hands, and the assembled Skinks cheered. The drumbeats and the chanting
resumed. Wilhelm watched as the Skink priests performed an elaborate dance, full of swipes and
thrusts of their staffs. In the centre of each staff, a green jewel grew ever brighter, gathering the rays of
the sun as it crested the eastern horizon. The priests pulled hard on the two ends of their staffs,
revealing wickedly sharp blades. They positioned themselves, ready to deliver the first blow of the ritual.
The drums stopped, the chanting ceased in anticipation. The silence beat down on Wilhelm’s ears, he
closed his eyes.

“I’ll be with you soon father,” he whispered. He waited for the blade to fall.

A high-pitched whistle broke the silence. Not the sound of a knife or sword, Wilhelm realised. He
opened one eye tentatively. The priest was gone from in front of him. Its body lay slumped to one side. A
pair of arrows were embedded in its back. Looking across at Heinz, Wilhelm saw the same fate had
befallen the second priest.

“What the-” Wilhelm uttered, as the pyramid top erupted in confusion. With the bodies of their priest s
lying sprawled on the stone, the Skinks shouted and screamed. More arrows descended , claiming
further victims. Wilhelm and Heinz could do nothing but watch helplessly.

“Kill them all!”

The voice was strong, familiar to the captives. Moments later, a group of yellow-clad humans burst out
of the lizard’s head passageway, dealing death to the startled Skinks. Wilhelm heard the crack of
pistols, and turned to see his father leading the charge. At his side, Karl swung his flail in a deadly arc
of destruction.

After the their initial surprise, the Skinks had formed themselves into some organised groups. One
group of archers launched retaliatory volleys towards the other pyramid, while the majority drew short
swords and daggers and confronted the mercenaries defiling their sacred temple.

Durant unloaded his second pistol into the face of an onrushing Skink, then twisted his body to avoid a
dagger thrust aimed at his belly. Durant brought his sword round quickly, and connected with the
second Skink’s neck. The lizard man’s head was sent soaring off the pyramid top while the body
collapsed uselessly in a heap. Durant was a few yards from his son and Heinz, both men still tied to
the sacrificial poles.

“Karl, see to Heinz,” he shouted. “Yellow Jackets, bring it in tighter.”

The other mercenaries closed ranks to form a protective ring around their captain, defending repeated
charges from the Skinks as Durant cut through the vines holding son.

“Father, I thought-”

“Not really a time for thinking, Wilhelm.” Durant severed the last vine, and pulled his son down from the
pole. Karl did the same for Heinz. “Grab the staffs, that’s what we came for.”

Wilhelm and Heinz bent low to scoop up the golden staffs, dropped by the slain priests. The two
escaped captives attempted to hold up the staffs defensively, but suddenly realised how weak they
were after a night of imprisonment.

“Fighting retreat lads,” shouted Karl. The Yellow Jackets backed away, heading for the passageway.
The Skinks, still some fifty in number, pressed them hard. Durant and Karl waited for the others to
begin their descent, then took the rearguard position for the company. In the narrow confines of the
passage, only one Skink at a time could come, and Karl made short work of those who tried,
despatching them with his flail. Finally the reached the ground level, and raced out of the pyramid. The
Yellow Jackets made for the outer pyramid where Franz and Albert had been providing covering fire with
their bows.

“Quick lads, get in close.” Durant waited until all the mercenaries were within the range of the coin’s
power. The horde of Skinks rushed toward the interlopers, keen to avenge the slaying of their priests.
Their archers paused, taking aim at the mercenaries. The volley of arrows arced through the air…and
clattered harmlessly onto the stone path. The Skinks stopped, and looked skyward. They wondered
where the almighty Sotek had taken the evil men who had trespassed on their holy temple city.


“It was the magic of the place,” said Arbach matter-of-factly. “The sheer magic crackling around in
Lustria is unbelievable.”

“And you didn’t think that might affect your magic coins at all?” Durant glared at Arbach, but tried to
contain his anger. Arbach took a sip of wine and leaned back in his chair.

“There are always risks when magic is involved, Durant, you’re experienced enough to know that. An
oversight, nothing more.”

“Your oversight early cost me the lives of two of my men.”

“One of whom was your son. A young man perhaps not cut out for this line of work. Did you consider
that? It was your decision for him to join your little band, was it not?” Arbach’s smile returned. Durant
was certain it was his worst feature, showing off his contempt more often than his joy.

“And what other choice do I have? At least that way I can keep him where I can see him.”

“Or not, in this case.”

Durant fought the urge to strike the merchant. He ground his teeth and waited for Arbach to make the
next move.

“Well, you’ll be pleased to hear you won’t be needing such magic tricks, not for a while at least. The
next item is much closer to home. You can get there anyway you wish. On foot, horseback, whatever you
like.”

Durant’s moment of anger had passed.

“Where?” he said.

“You might be familiar with the place, in the northern part of Hochland actually. A little town by the name
of Vahlenburg. Seems they’ve been having a bit of a problem with the green skins.”

“Did you say Vahlenburg?” asked Durant calmly.

“Yes, like I said, no need for the magic coins on this mission.”

Great, thought Durant. Karl’s going to love going home.


To be continued…
Episode Five:
Storming the Fort of Vahlenburg


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