Searching The Gem part 1 
By crb2533
A band of mercenaries is searching for a treasure

The sun was beginning to set when my men and I arrived at Caledra.  We went 
looking for a place to spent the night and ponder the recent course of events. The 
town was just like most others in the region, a small yet thriving mining village 
with just the most basic services: a market, a few shops and one town inn, the 
Alde Skar. The place seemed all right. Not exactly luxurious, but the rooms were 
clean and there were plenty of other guests so our stay wouldn't be to dull. After 
we installed ourselves in our rooms we went downstairs to the drinking hall to 
think things over by a few jugs of wine.

We used to be soldiers in the royal army until a few years ago. When small 
uprisings and rebellions started to sweep the northern provinces, I smelled an 
opportunity. Fed up with the small pay I received as an armsmaster, I convinced a 
number of my stoutest men to desert and form a mercenary company with me as 
their captain. Selling our services to the highest-bidding warlord, and then 
plundering his opponents, would make us rich men.  Now the turmoil in the north 
had calmed down and we definitely had more gold than when we started, but it 
wasn't enough for us. 

Two weeks ago we had resorted to highway robbing. We had received word of a 
small trading caravan that would travel trough a nearby forest on their way to the 
coast. We ambushed the merchants and killed every last one of them. The loot 
was rather disappointing: no gold or silver, just two wagonloads of plain-looking 
cloth and a few barrels of vinegar. The last wagon however was something 
strange. Inside it were a whole lot of curiosities: small crude statues depicting 
some sort of monsters, stuffed birds; skulls, both human and animal; scraps of 
parchment. We figured the guy owning it was probably some sort of antiquary, 
catering to the tastes of rich collectors. 

Being the only one in our party who could read or write, I went through the 
parchments we discovered. Most were illegible or written in languages I didn't 
understand.  One scroll caught my attention though, and wouldn't let go of it for 
the following hours. It contained maps and sketches of a burial cave that 
contained a precious gem. Enthralled by this I studied the writings to find the 
exact location of the cavern. I found out it was located in the mountains east of 
what is now known as Caledra. When I informed the men of my findings they 
became possessed with the idea of retrieving this priceless gem that was just 
waiting to be found. Although I started to fear that the whole thing was a hoax, 
I gave in to my own greed and that of my men. The next morning we saddled the 
horses and headed off to the cave.

The sketches describing the cavern were pretty detailed. The entrance was closed 
of by a few feet of dirt and small rocks but was marked by two tall rock columns 
referred to as the Fangs of Daghata. Behind the entrance there would be a steep 
stairway leading deep under the ground. These stairs would in turn lead to a large 
six-sided chamber about 300 feet under the surface. Then came the tricky part: out 
of that chamber led a narrow tunnel, only just wide enough for one man to crawl 
through, that connects the chamber with a vertical shaft that goes up to the halls 
were the gemstone is kept. According to the manuscript that shaft is now sealed of 
by a boulder. Because the shaft is shaped like a funnel, going from 5 feet in 
diameter at the top to just a few feet at the bottom. The boulder had to be 
suspended somewhere in the middle I guessed.  The sketches showed an alcove in 
the side of the shaft where one could move the boulder to in order to clear the 
entrance to the halls again.  No information was provided however about the 
makeup of the halls themselves.

When we arrived at the Fangs of Daghata, everything turned out to be exactly like 
the scroll described it. We found the entrance under the ground, the stairs behind 
it and then the large chamber. It was about 100 feet from one wall to the opposite 
and the ceiling was at least 50 feet high. The walls and the ceiling were 
beautifully ornamented with frescos and stone cut patterns. The extent to which 
this room was decorated fired up our expectations about the treasures we would 
find deeper in the cavern.  After we located the narrow tunnel, I sent Morkus, our 
company's scout, through it to investigate it further. After he crawled back to us 
he reported that the tunnel went on for about 300 feet, where it suddenly stopped.  
He found the ceiling there to be slightly higher because he could crouch there, 
whereas in the rest of the tunnel he had to crawl on all fours. He figured that that 
point was the bottom of the shaft the scroll talked about. The ceiling seemed to be 
made up out of one single piece of rock, which most likely was the boulder.

The bad news however was that he estimated it to weigh two thousand pounds.  
That ruined our excitement; we would need at least five men to push it up a few 
feet into the side alcove so we could enter the halls.  Morkus ensured us that there 
was only enough space for one man to crouch beneath the boulder, two men at 
most.  The sides around the ending point of the tunnel were all solid rock so 
digging wasn't an option either.

Discouraged, we decided to head back to the surface and try to find some sort of 
device to jack up the boulder, or at least find an engineer whom we could 
"convince" to aid us.  After all, we were in a mining region, so we had a chance 
of finding either.  And that's how we ended up here, in Caledra at the Alde Skar 
inn.

When the sun started to set we could hear a crowd gathering on the streets.  I 
asked the innkeeper what was going on.  

"Tonight we celebrate the end of summer.  Of course, our festivities are by no 
means as overwhelming as those in the big cities, but in a short while you 
gentlemen can join us on the market square for a small carnival."

After we finished our jugs I turned to the men. "All right lads, we won't find a 
solution to our little problem this night, so we might as well enjoy ourselves this 
evening." This brought some loud cheers from the men, and we left the inn for the 
market square.  

When we arrived there we saw that during our stay at the inn the place had been 
transformed into a kind a fairground. Along the sides of the square were a number 
of stalls with food and drinks, and in the middle was a small stage, where 
apparently a theatre troupe was performing.  While we installed ourselves on the 
ground in front of the stage a juggler was giving a halfhearted performance.  
After a few boring moments he left the stage to make room for two scantily-clad 
women who the ringmaster announced as Alka and Ilva, two dancing girls straight 
from the noble courts of the south.  I doubted that these women came from 
anywhere near those noble courts, but I had to admit they looked rather attractive, 
especially if you had been on the road for days. "Yeah, that's more like it!" 
yelled out Barades, my lieutenant, as the women started their dance.

A few moments later Alka and Ilva left the stage, much to the regret of my men. 
The ringmaster walked up the stage again and cried out theatrically, "And now, 
for your enjoyment, we present you the strongest woman in the world: the mighty 
Atlana." We saw a tall heavyset woman stroll onto the stage, now lit by torches 
since the sun had now gone under.  She was wearing a long burgundy cloak, 
which hid her entire body from the eyes of the crowd.  Her face was quite 
pleasant, though; round with defined features, and framed by long brown curls.  
She stopped in the middle of the stage her deep blue eyes scanned the crowd.  
"This ought to be good," I heard Holvir, our own strong man, mutter. "The 
strongest woman in the world... yeah, right."

The ringmaster spoke up again in his dramatic way. "Say, Atlana; aren't you 
thirsty? How about a drink before we start the show?"  

He handed her a wooden mug filled with ale.  Smiling, she took it gently in her 
hand, put it to her lips and drank it down.  After she finished the ale, she grabbed 
the heavy mug in both hands and slowly brought her arms in front of her chest.  
Then, without visible strain on her face, she briefly squeezed in on the mug, 
crushing it to splinters.  She opened her hands again and let the pieces of wood 
drop to the floor.

This brought some amazed gasps from the crowd. 'Small town hicks,' I thought.  
I myself had seen too much of these strongman shows to know this had been a 
trick.  

"Don't be shy, Atlana; take off your cloak," the announcer continued.  

Then, with a sudden movement Atlana threw off her cloak, revealing her body to 
the people.  Gasps of amazement were heard over the entire square.  Underneath 
her cloak she wore two thin bands of cloth, one draped around her hips and the 
other around her upper chest. But it wasn't the revealing outfit that was causing 
the commotion. It was her body.  She was by far the most muscular woman I had 
ever seen.  Her thick chest flared up from a relatively thin waist to her incredibly 
wide shoulders, and was covered in thick layers of steely muscle.  Her arms were 
massive and defined. But what was the most intimidating about her were her legs. 
They were huge pillars of hard bulging muscle.  This woman's body looked like 
she was carved out of marble, like those ancient statues we robbed a while ago. 
'This has to be a trick of the lighting,' I thought. 'No woman is that muscular.' 
I looked around into the faces of the men around me, who had the same startled 
look on their face as I no doubt had.

But as she slowly turned in circles to display her powerful body to the awestruck 
crowd we al realized that it wasn't a trick.  She really was this gigantic.  As if 
she wanted to rub it in, she started tensing her arms.  Slowly she brought her arms 
back causing her biceps to erupt to mountainous proportions.  I estimated them to 
be eighteen thumbs around and still they were more defined than anyone's I had 
ever seen, man or woman.  Still gazing at the crowd, she then brought her 
clenched arms down and in front of her and inhaled deeply.  This made her chest 
and shoulders swell even larger as her large breasts stood out proudly.

After this short performance she then walked off the stage, womanly swaying her 
hips from side to side.  Everyone's eyes were glued to her as she sashayed over to 
the blacksmith's shop on the edge of the square and walked right up to the eight-
hundred pound anvil sitting outside. She crouched in front of it and wrapped her 
thick arms around it, hugging the anvil to her chest.  She then slowly stood 
up, her thighs rippling with pure strength, taking the heavy load with her. Without 
pausing, she took the ends of it in her strong hands and lifted it above her head.  
We could see the powerful muscles in her chiseled back move as she straightened 
her arms, completing this unbelievable feature of strength. This woman simply 
didn't stop to awe us with her terrifying power.

She let the anvil drop to the ground and without even looking back to the crowd 
she disappeared in the shop.  Nobody made an attempt to stop her, not even the 
brawny blacksmith, who stood about ten paces away from us.  I guess I couldn't 
blame him for not wanting to tangle with this powerhouse. A few moments later 
she emerged from the house, carrying a thick iron chain with her.  She walked 
back up the stage passing right next to me.  I could see that she was over six 
feet tall. She looked even more intimidating up close.  

Once on the stage she uncoiled the chain, showing us how thick it was.  She 
proceeded to take the end of it in one hand and placed her other hand about five 
feet down the chain. She then slowly spread her arms apart, spanning the chain in 
between them.  We could hear the metal screeching as she poured more power in 
the movement.  I realized the chain didn't stand a chance as she continued to 
effortlessly stretch it to the breaking point.  It didn't take long until it snapped 
apart in her powerful grasp.  

She moved down the chain grabbing the new end again and wrapped what was 
left of it around both her forearms, grabbing the other end again in her left hand.  
This way three strands of chain connected her arms.  She breathed deeply in and 
out a couple of times making her mighty chest expand, and then with a loud roar 
threw out her arms ripping the chain apart with her superior strength.

The crowd was silent, stunned by the raw strength they just saw in action.  The 
silence was broken when Morkus the scout yelled: "By the gods, Holvir, she's 
even stronger than you are!"  

The giant Holvir jumped up in anger screaming "She is not stronger then me, you 
midget! Nobody is that strong, especially no woman. Can't you people see it's a 
trick?  Those were all tricks."

"My, my, my; I see we have a non-believer."  It was Atlana who had spoken up.  

"You don't believe I'm more powerful than you? Do you want to challenge me, 
big boy?" she continued in her deep sultry voice. Holvir was fuming by now.  

"All right wench, you asked for it! I'll teach you a much needed lesson!"

"Alright then, big man.  We will wrestle each other right here on the market 
square, in half an hour, if you really think you can stand up to this?" And with 
those words she tensed her entire body again, showing us those powerful muscles 
she possessed.   She then strutted back to the troupe's tent while the ringmaster 
instructed his men to prepare a ring.

... to be continued ...