{"id":17325,"date":"2023-08-03T10:00:00","date_gmt":"2023-08-03T16:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/?p=17325"},"modified":"2023-07-11T15:08:19","modified_gmt":"2023-07-11T21:08:19","slug":"the-riches-of-xulthar-chapter-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/the-riches-of-xulthar-chapter-3\/","title":{"rendered":"The Riches of Xulthar: Chapter 3"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

3. Encounters in the Wastes<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Roderick<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

The sky shone blood-red as the setting sun cast its dying rays across the desolate landscape. The ground was parched, and the air was thick with dust and despair. Roderick stood alone in the midst of this barren terrain, his armor tarnished, his family colors faded and caked with dirt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ever since his companions had abandoned him to brave the dangers of the desert alone, the hours had passed like days, the days like entire weeks. To conserve his strength, he traveled mostly at dusk and early morning, when the hot desert air turned surprisingly chill. But his provisions were starting to run short, and he did not know how much longer it would be possible to go on like this before he perished from heat and hunger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the moonless night deepened, he sought shelter in the ruins of an old caravanserai. Faded and broken mosaics adorned its crumbling walls, and an eerie silence filled its dusty courtyard. Roderick drew his sword, keeping alert for danger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sure enough, he was not alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A low, guttural growl broke the eerie silence. Roderick spun and saw a pair of red, glowing eyes glaring from the depths of the shadows. A monstrous creature, half-human, half-beast, lunged at him with razor-sharp claws.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roderick parried as the beast attacked him with a ferocity that was purely primal. He sent a riposte at the beast\u2019s throat, but the creature was too fast, evading his strike with unnatural speed. Before Roderick could react, the beast renewed its furious attack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fear gripped Roderick\u2019s heart as the beast\u2019s claws tore through the air in a flurry of deadly strikes. He parried again, struggling to keep up with the monster\u2019s furious speed. But Roderick was no greenhorn. Sensing an opening, he lunged and severed the creature\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The beast fell stunned to the ground. Blood gushed out of the fatal wound, and the beast\u2019s ferocious strength departed as it thrashed about in its final, deadly throes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But as the creature\u2019s red eyes faded, and its grotesque body transformed into that of a man clad in ragged and bloodied clothes. This was no mere beast, but a civilized man transformed by magic to take the shape of a beast of the wild.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roderick stared in disbelief at the man that he had slain. His heart pounded as he took a step closer, anxious to hear what the shapeshifter would say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2026 you killed me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI had no choice,\u201d said Roderick, his victory tempered by shame. \u201cYou struck first. If I had not defended myself, I would be the one lying in a pool of my own gore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAye,\u201d croaked the dying man. His eyes held a deep sorrow, and with a labored breath, he said: \u201cEver since Xulthar\u2026 all I have seen is death.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHave you eyes truly beheld the fabled city?\u201d Roderick asked. He reached for his waterskin and pressed it to the dying man\u2019s lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man drank eagerly, though his strength was rapidly fading. \u201cAye, my friend. Like you, I sought the riches of Xulthar, but its magic\u2026 it twisted me into a monster.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roderick watched with a sinking heart as the dying man\u2019s breath became more labored. He sought the city of Xulthar,<\/em> Roderick thought silently. Sought it, and found it!<\/em> And yet, with the awful curse he had borne, Roderick could not shake the somber thought that this man\u2019s terrible fate might yet be his own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man\u2019s gaze fixed on the arm that Roderick had severed\u2014the limb that still held to the hairy form of the beast. With his remaining good hand, he reached out to Roderick, trembling with the last of his strength.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cListen, friend. Xulthar\u2026 it\u2019s not what you think. It\u2019s not a city of riches\u2026 but of sorcery\u2026 a cursed place\u2026 the Dark King\u2026 oh God, I can still see his eyes!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSteady,\u201d said Roderick, holding the man as he began to convulse. \u201cSteady. It will all be over soon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man\u2019s eyes held a flicker of gratitude even as the life gradually faded out of them. Then, in his final moments, they suddenly became lucid again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy arm\u2026 the claws\u2026 you must take the claws! Fashion them into a totem\u2026 they will protect you\u2026 they will protect you from\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFrom what?\u201d Roderick asked urgently. He again pressed the waterskin to the dying man\u2019s lips, but this time, he did not drink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWealth and power\u2026 lured into a trap\u2026 it\u2019s a lie\u2026 it\u2019s all a lie\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man\u2019s last words echoed in the desolate silence, and his lifeless frame slumped onto the stony ground. Roderick gently closed his eyes. As he did so, a crushing sense of sorrow suddenly consumed him. The cold night air seemed to claw at him with icy talons, and the starry band of the galaxy stretched like a high road to the eternal void beyond the Mortal Realm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Without thinking, he began to pile rocks on top of the fallen man\u2019s body. The sun-parched ground was unfit for grave digging, so he piled a cairn instead. But no matter how high he built it, he could not escape the haunting echo of those final words:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My arm\u2026 the claws.. you must take the claws!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

As Roderick dropped one final stone on the pile, his eyes fell again on the severed arm. The black flesh had wrinkled and was already beginning to putrefy, but the claws still gleamed in the starlight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cVery well, friend,\u201d Roderick spoke to the empty air. \u201cI will accept your gift.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It took him the rest of the night, but he pried the claws from the black-bloodied flesh and bore a hole with his knife through the base of each. From the leather strap of his waterskin, he fashioned a passable thread. And when the daylight began to dawn, Roderick set out with the cursed man\u2019s claws hanging like an uncanny talisman from his sun-bronzed neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Laria<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

The sun blazed mercilessly over the barren wasteland, caking the salt of Laria\u2019s sweat on her already burned skin. The rocky ground felt like the floor of a gritty furnace, and the rocks felt like flint against her bare and tender feet. She stepped as carefully as she could, but it was difficult, seeing as her hands were bound, and the other end of the rope was tied to a camel that never seemed to grow tired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease,\u201d she begged the slave trader who drove her so relentlessly. \u201cMay I have some water?\u201d She wore nothing but a leather loincloth to shield her from the sun, and the heat of the desert made her pant with thirst.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cQuiet!\u201d snapped the slaver, tugging on the rope. She stumbled, nearly cutting her feet on a jagged rock, and barely recovered fast enough to keep the camel from dragging her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As cruel as he could be, though, the slaver was not the worst master who\u2019d owned her. She missed the happier days of her childhood under the old rich man her parents had sold her to. Of all her previous masters, he was by far the kindest, treating her as a member of his household and requiring almost no labor from her at all. Sadly, the plague had not discriminated between the kind and the cruel, the master and the slave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaster,\u201d she asked, \u201cwhy must we take this road that leads through such a desolate waste?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The beady-eyed slaver sneered at her from his perch. \u201cMore questions, eh? Your throat must not be as parched as you think.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I\u2019m just not used to the desert. All my life, I\u2019ve\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpare me your life\u2019s story, slave,\u201d he said. From the tone of his voice, it was clear that he would just as soon talk with the camel as with her. She bit her lip and revised her estimate of the man, ranking him in the bottom five of all her previous masters. At least he would sell her soon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She glanced over the undulating dunes and rocky crests of the desert. In every direction, there was no sign of human habitation, nor\u2014wait, what was that? Was it a man, or in her delirium had her eyes deceived her?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No. It was certainly a man, traversing the hostile desert on foot. Though alone, he was armed with a large sword, and other weapons beside. He stood more than a head taller than Laria, with broad shoulders and muscular chest and arms. He wore a loose headscarf that didn\u2019t quite cover his brownish-red shoulder-length hair, and as he drew nearer, his deep blue eyes seemed to see right through her. She shivered in spite of the heat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh, a fellow traveler,\u201d the slaver called out in greeting. \u201cLooking for some feminine comfort?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Though the slaver\u2019s demeanor was friendly enough, his eyes gleamed with greed. She knew he had no intention of selling her. As for the traveler himself, his eyes were unusually sad, as if he carried a burden that was too much for him to bear. Laria couldn\u2019t help but wonder at that. Was it guilt that harried him? Shame at his past deeds? No\u2014his expression carried none of the ugliness or cruelty she\u2019d seen in her worst masters. In fact, he struck her as a good and decent man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She smiled and drew herself up, doing her best to look pleasing to him. She had a premonition that her luck was about to change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you like her?\u201d The slaver asked in a leery tone. \u201cShe\u2019s a rare beauty, isn\u2019t she? Yours for the right price.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Please don\u2019t let him fall for the slaver\u2019s trap!<\/em> Laria prayed to whatever gods would listen to a slave. And yet, she held her tongue, knowing that if she warned him, the slaver would have her hide\u2014and probably enslave the traveler just the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or would he? The traveler carried a large broadsword on his belt, and wore a heavy coat of scale armor that must have been miserable under this burning sun. The very sight of it almost made her grateful to be wearing only a loincloth. But though his brow was soaked in sweat, he seemed so strong and powerfully built that the armor was hardly a burden for him. That was doubtless the reason why the slaver had not drawn his weapon and forced the man to submit to his bonds. In a straight contest between them, the slaver would be hard pressed to hold his own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The traveler gazed sadly upon her, and she realized with a start that his sadness was for her. That surprised her, since most men treated slaves little better than common livestock. And why should they? If shepherds braved danger and death for their sheep, and horsemen prized and cherished their purebred steeds, what more could she possibly ask? But this man looked at her in a way that few men ever had. She remembered her premonition, and sensed that he would make a kind and benevolent master.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have no coin for your wares,\u201d he growled. The slaver\u2019s smile swiftly turned into a sneer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo coin, eh? Well, then I\u2019ll just have to take what is mine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLook out!\u201d Laria shouted just before the slaver made his attack. The slaver leaped from his camel, wielding his wickedly curved blade, but the stranger\u2019s sword was already in his hands, and he parried the first blow with ease. The clash of steel echoed across the desert as the two fighters engaged in a deadly dance of blades.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now Laria dared not scream, for fear that it would break the traveler\u2019s concentration. Instead, she watched with bated breath as he struck and withdrew, parried and reposted. The slaver was skilled, but the traveler was clearly a seasoned warrior. Soon, the slaver\u2019s eyes widened as he realized he was outmatched. Laria\u2019s heart leaped at the sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYield!\u201d the slaver cried, stepping out of the traveler\u2019s reach. \u201cYield! Please\u2014have mercy!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His plea for clemency gave the noble-hearted traveler pause\u2014and quick as a wink, the slaver lunged at Laria, grabbing her violently by her arm. She yelped in surprise as he pressed his wicked blade against her neck, holding her like a shield.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDrop your sword, or I slit her throat!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Laria had no doubt that he would do it. To him, she was nothing more than merchandise, and if the loss of her life was the cost of his own, he would make that trade in an instant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her gaze met the traveler\u2019s. Don\u2019t surrender yourself!<\/em> she begged him with her eyes, knowing that if he dropped his blade, the cruel and vindictive slaver would make him a slave. Besides, what was the value of her life to a free man like him? She did not want to die, but likewise she did not want for him to suffer on her behalf.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To her horror, the traveler dropped his sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood,\u201d said the slaver, cheering considerably. \u201cNow, kindly wrap that cord around your wrists.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOr else what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOr else the girl dies!\u201d the slaver snapped. He pressed the point of his dagger between Laria\u2019s breasts, making her squeal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Never had a man sacrificed anything for her sake. And yet, here stood a man who had given up his sword for her, when he could have easily slain his opponent at the cost of her life. But the traveler was not entirely stupid, she was gratified to see. His muscular arms were taught with defiance as he clenched and unclenched his fists, waiting to see how the slaver would react.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With her master\u2019s knife still pointed at her heart, Laria hardly dared to breathe. Don\u2019t do it,<\/em> she inwardly pleaded, knowing that the moment the traveler\u2019s wrists were bound, he would be a slave like her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere did you get that talisman?\u201d the slaver asked, breaking the tense silence. His greedy eyes were trained to look for profit, no matter the circumstances.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The traveler smiled wanly, then lunged and swung his fist with speed born of desperation. The slaver\u2019s reflexes were too slow, and he cursed and stumbled backward, releasing her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Laria dove and quickly rolled away, just as much to keep from encumbering the traveler as to escape the slaver\u2019s grasp. She heard the men scuffling desperately behind her, and turned just in time to see the traveler plunge the slaver\u2019s own knife deep into the wicked man\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thank the fates!<\/em> Laria prayed silently as the slaver\u2019s eyes widened with the recognition of death. His scream turned to a bloody gurgle, and he fell twitching to the rocky ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For several long moments, the traveler stood over the dying slaver. Laria watched him from a distance, curious but cautious. She knew the ways of men like him, savage mercenaries who slew their enemies without a second thought. But the traveler had already shown himself to be more honorable than most.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho are you?\u201d Laria asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The traveler turned to face her. \u201cI am called Roderick. And you are?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour slave,\u201d she answered, lowering her gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The traveler frowned and stepped forward. She flinched, not knowing what to expect. So many of her recent masters had been cruel to her that she hardly dared to hope that Roderick would be any different. But then, he reached out his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFear not,\u201d he said as he helped her to her feet. \u201cI won\u2019t hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Relief flooded over her like a gentle spring rain. Fate had truly smiled upon her, granting her to a kind and benevolent master. All that remained was to please him well enough that he kept her as his own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roderick<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Roderick stared in astonishment at the young woman who had offered herself up to be his slave. Perhaps it was naive of him to expect her to embrace her freedom, but he was confident that she would soon enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHold out your hands,\u201d he commanded. Her wrists were still bound by that damnable rope. She gasped as he drew his dagger, but held still as he cut her bonds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He took a moment to look her over. She stood a full head shorter than him, as small and slim as a waif, though the roundness of her sun-burned breasts made it clear that she was fully a woman. She wore only a crude loincloth, and her fair skin had only recently been bronzed by the hot desert sun, meaning she was probably a household slave and not one accustomed to hard labor. Her wrists and feet were blistered and red, but her back bore no mark of the lash: either she hadn\u2019t been a slave for long, or else she was more subservient than most. Her hair was black and dusty, and her eyes were a mesmerizing green, though she was careful to keep them downcast like a good slave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re free now, girl,\u201d he told her brusquely. \u201cWhat is your name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stared at her unbound wrists in disbelief, as if unaware that he had spoken to her. Realizing that she was probably delirious with thirst, Roderick gave her his waterskin and helped her to wring out the last few drops. There was plenty more water in the dead slaver\u2019s saddlebags anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTh-thank you, master,\u201d she stammered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not your master,\u201d he grunted, turning his attention to the camel. He rustled through the saddlebags until he found one of the slaver\u2019s spare robes. \u201cHere,\u201d he said, tossing it to the girl. \u201cClothe yourself with this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She smiled at him gratefully and immediately began to change. He averted his eyes out of courtesy, making a quick inventory of their supplies. The dead slaver had carried a fair amount of coin, which testified to his cruelty\u2014though of course there was ample room in his pouch for more. Wherever he had planned to take the girl, he had clearly expected her to fetch a pretty price. More importantly, the bags held at least two weeks of provisions: mostly bread and cheese, with some olives and salted lamb to round it out. Roderick tore off a bite to blunt the edge of his hunger: he had gone more than a day without food.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you hungry?\u201d he asked the girl, turning to face her now that she was fully dressed. The linen robe hung loosely on her slender frame, but it was sufficiently modest, and would shield her from the worst of the sun\u2019s burning rays. All she needed now was a headscarf, like the one he\u2019d worn before his fight with the slaver. He walked to where it lay and retrieved it from the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, Master,\u201d she said hesitantly. \u201cThough, if it please you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He tossed her half a loaf of bread, and her eyes widened in surprise as she caught it. Clearly, the slaver had not been feeding her well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s meat and cheese aplenty. Take as much as you wish.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you, Master.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not your damned slave master,\u201d he told her bluntly as she reached into the bag. She winced at the rebuke, as if expecting him to strike her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cY-yes,\u201d she said, gingerly taking some cheese. \u201cI hope I haven\u2019t offended you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course not. Now, what is your name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy name is\u2026 Laria,\u201d the girl said hesitantly. \u201cPlease\u2014let me be your slave. I have nowhere to go, and I fear I won\u2019t survive in this wilderness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her request took Roderick aback.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBy all the horns of hell, girl!\u201d he bellowed. \u201cDid you think I would abandon you in this waste? No\u2014we shall travel as companions, at least as far as the next oasis, or town.\u201d The prospect of braving another enchanted oasis did not thrill him, but the camel would have to be watered soon, and the waterskins refilled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, Master,\u201d the girl said subserviently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCall me Roderick.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, Master Roderick.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot \u2018Master.\u2019 Just \u2018Roderick.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She opened her mouth as if to speak, caught herself, then opened her mouth again. \u201cI hope I have not displeased you, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStand up, girl. Why should that matter when you are free?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Reluctantly, Laria rose to her feet, still clutching the bread and cheese. \u201cHow can I accept your gift of freedom when I owe you so much?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou owe me nothing. I saved you from that wicked slaver because it was right, not because I expected anything in return.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut I have nothing without you, Roderick,\u201d Laria pleaded with him. \u201cI have no family, no home\u2014no one to care for me, nowhere to go. If you will not have me as your slave, I fear that I will perish. Please, let me serve you as best as I know how.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roderick sighed heavily. Though slavery was a common practice, his father had always shunned it and taught him to do so as well. The servants of House Valtan had all been free to leave the household if they managed to find employment elsewhere. Few had actually done so, for Roderick\u2019s father was a fair and honorable man, and most of his servants had followed him into exile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEat your bread,\u201d Roderick told her, turning away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDoes that mean\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d he said, groaning. \u201cIf you truly want to serve me, I will not turn you away. But know this, Laria: we travel together as companions. As equals. You are free to make your own choices as you see fit. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Laria\u2019s face broke into a smile. \u201cThank you Master Roderick! I promise to follow you wherever you may lead!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They ate their bread in silence, Roderick brooding over this strange turn of events while the girl looked to him like an eager and obedient dog. He hated that\u2014no person was meant to be treated like an animal. Especially not a woman. If owning a slave offended his keen sense of honor, owning a slave girl offended it doubly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He finished eating and pulled the camel down by the reins. The dumb beast protested at first, but he held firm until it had knelt down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome,\u201d he said, gesturing for Laria to mount it. \u201cLet us be on our way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked at him hesitantly, as if unsure what to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell?\u201d he said impatiently. \u201cClimb up and let us go!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut Master Roderick, where will you ride?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRide?\u201d he said angrily. \u201cI will walk. You will ride.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Laria shook her head. \u201cNo, Master Roderick. I cannot ride in comfort while you walk. It\u2014it wouldn\u2019t be right.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He groaned and ran his fingers impatiently through his hair. \u201cVery well, then. We’ll both ride\u2014and if the camel dies of exhaustion, then I suppose we will both have to walk!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With that, he tossed his head scarf over his head and mounted the camel. Against the beast\u2019s protestations, Laria climbed on behind him, and with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, they set out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<< Chapter 2 <<<\/a> The Riches of Xulthar<\/a> >> Chapter 4 >><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

3. Encounters in the Wastes Roderick The sky shone blood-red as the setting sun cast its dying rays across the desolate landscape. The ground was parched, and the air was thick with dust and despair. Roderick stood alone in the midst of this barren terrain, his armor tarnished, his family colors faded and caked with… Continue reading The Riches of Xulthar: Chapter 3<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1688],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17325","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-riches-of-xulthar","entry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7iXK-4vr","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17325","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17325"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17325\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17374,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17325\/revisions\/17374"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17325"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17325"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.onelowerlight.com\/writing\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17325"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}