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Contents Copyright by Bruce Durham unless noted otherwise
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When we exited the jungle later in the morning we found the sailors scrambling over the ruins like ants on a honey cake. Those of our men caught up in the gossip of treasure watched with jealously. Sarge had prohibited them from hunting. They grumbled, but discipline won through. Even so, I was certain Clantalion would demand a share of any spoils as payment for protection provided from potential danger, even if that potential danger was a pink carcass lying on the beach. So we waited, passing caustic comments as we watched the sailors slip along the slick moss, or tumble from sagging vines as they struggled to reach inaccessible terraces and dark, recessed apartments.

 

Morning dragged.

 

At the edge of the road I found a piece of worn stone useable as a seat. Hungry, I rooted through my sack for two strips of salted meat and offered one to the child.

 

She sat in her usual position. I suppose, in her skewed mental state, she understood I was her protector. It was flattering in a way, though I would have preferred words of thanks in lieu of endless staring. As expected, my offer went unnoticed. I passed the food off to Gyvens.

 

A faint, piercing shout caught my attention mid-bite. It had come from deep within the city ruins.

 

Gyvens sighed. He had really wanted to hunt for treasure, wanted to find some shiny bauble for his girl back home. I’d seen his girl back home. An oat bag would have sufficed. “Must have found something,” he mumbled. “Lucky bastards.”

 

The shout became a series of calls, each one closer as the sailors responded with concern. A final query echoed into silence, and then someone screamed. It was high pitched and wild. The follow-up scream ended abruptly.

 

We didn’t need Sergeant Clantalion to get us on our feet, reaching for our weapons.

 

He was there anyway. “Form a line. Pikes in front. Swords to the rear. Quickly now.”

 

I still had my sword, so I placed myself on the right flank of the third line, nearest the child. She worried me. She had reacted when the first screams sounded from deep within the ruins, her head turning sharply in that direction.

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Yaggoth-Voor
Excerpt
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One of the best tales in the book. -  Deuce Richardson -

The Cimmerian

Very interesting and well done. - Dale Strickland - Library Thing

“Yaggoth-Voor” by Bruce Durham is a real gem... - John O’Neill - Publisher - Black Gate

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A cross between Call of Cthulhu and Pirates of the Carribean. Well worth the read.

Earl L. Morris - Amazon.com

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