Homeward Bound

“What have we done?”

“I know your fear. We did not strengthen the wizard’s power by leaving him here. We have banished him from power.”

“What if he takes control of the dead legions?”

“Even if he dose, there is no where for him to march that army. This door will hold back evil, forever.”

Ozzob steps to the doorway and touches it with his hands; the steel from the door grows into the rock face, the materials merge—it is no longer possible to tell where the steel ends and the black rocks begin.

“Satisfied?”

“Content.”

“Then let’s go home.”

Ozzob leads the way but only Leone takes up the reigns to follow him.

Dedrick forces out the words, “What home… a pile of nameless rock at the bottom of a… and my brother, he is down there, a lesser grave than he deserved.”

Ozzob steps to his friend’s side, “I cannot restore your temple, I can only offer sanctuary in my village.”

The sorcerer looks over the faces of the two learned psions then asks, “Return with me to Woodwake. There you will be able to rest and decide what course to set next.”

#

Meanwhile, back inside Baddlack’s inn a new stranger has just arrived. The woman is dark skinned and wears form-fitting clothing drenched in unusually brilliant colors; she is dark skinned and slinks through the doorway with a feline grace. The strangers subterfuge and attraction walk hand in had, Baddlack has not noticed her speaking, too busy examining her assets. The fun ends when she slams down a fist; the table jars and dumps the dwarfs drink right into his lap.

“Do you have… rooms? In this place?” questions the dark woman in a seething voice.

Baddlack, working on getting up and brushing the spill from his clothes, responds. “Yes, Yes, A room ya be needin.”

“How much?”

“Oh, just a coin for de night.”

The woman squeezes her hand into a pocket and pulls out a coin; she drops it on the table and begins to head for the stairway in the back of the room.

“I will also be needin, your name… for the ledger.”

The woman hisses back, “Kis’larn.”

#

The four adventuring companions stand motionless in the black the depths of the mountain caves.

“I don’t recognize this…”

“We should be back to the molten tubes by now…”

“We should be.”

Ozzob points to a small crevice in a nearby rock face. Investigating the curious formation the group discovers a small opening that feeds into a smooth faced tunnel. Leone is the first to climb inside; the passageway is extremely smooth with a hint of moisture. Dedrick purposes that the tunnel is the result of a lava flow that has subsided; however, the explanation dose not account for the damp feeling in the surface. The transition is tricky, but the four friends soon find each other inside the tunnel.

“Which direction should we go?”

After a few glances, Ozzob begins to walk to the right; the others follow.

“Any reason we are going this way?”

“No.”

After a short walk, the tube-like passageway comes to an abrupt end. Jagged rocks form a wall that blocks the way. With no other option available, the group turns around and begins to head back down the tunnel to the crack where they entered. On the walk back, a feint sloshing sound perks at the ears of the four friends; nothing of significance appears down the illuminated part of the tunnel.

The sluggish watery wounds grow louder with every step; as the four friends reach the cracked crevice, light catches on some liquid suspended in the middle of the tunnel ahead. Ozzob inches down the tunnel holding out a light crystal; the illumination offers maximum exposure across the smooth tunnel walls. A distortion ring fills a volume of space inside the passageway, and the substance is moving closer.

“Whatever it is… it’s getting closer.”

Looking back to the others, Ozzob sees Leone halfway through the cracked wall. Returning his view to the approaching wall of sludge, the sorcerer observes the creature lurching forward, moving fast. Tolvis, hampered by injuries, makes slow progress climbing through the crevice.

Ozzob takes a few steps back, and finds that he is at the crack. Dedrick motions over the hole, ushering Ozzob to go next. The sorcerer dose not delay, he slides through the hole with haste, but is stuck in the middle of the transition and blocks the crack. Dedrick looking for the problem finds a small protrusion snagging the sorcerers cloak; he reaches down to unhook the cloth, but the slime creature overtakes the point first.

With only a few second of contact against the gel, the material of the cloak decomposes enough to break loose. Dedrick reaches through the crack with one arm, but another giant lurch from the creature brings it into contact with the master psions forearm; the gelatinous goop sticks to flesh and begins to dissolve everything. Dedrick recoils from the slimy bite, slowly backing down the dead-end path. Three of the friends sit in safety; they can see the fear in Dedrick’s face through the clear gel. After the creature passes the crack the others climb back inside in an attempt to save there friend.

Ozzob reaches forward with a single finger a sends a thick bolt of electricity into the sheer surface of slime, for a moment it looks as though the gelatinous material pulls apart letting the energy pass harmlessly. Unabated, the excited bolt streaks through the clear gel and slams into a wall on the other side; the blast leaves a smoldering pocket of molten rock but has little effect on the slime creature. A hard, crystallized tube marks the path of the lightning through the creature, but the damage disintegrates within seconds.

Tolvis steps forward and puts a stern lock on the creature; a wave of translucent energy appears in the space between the grand master and the creature. Heat waves roll off the psionic impulse, the energy strikes deep into the slimy surface; the gel expands and contracts. The attack leaves no visible damage and dose not detour the creature from its course. The wall of gel is on a course that will inevitability lead to consumption.

Backing into a dead-end, Dedrick looks to salvation on the other side of the transparent gel, he is going to try to dive through the belly of the creature. Dedrick takes a running start from the dead end and leaps directly into the wall of slime at full speed; a flood of searing pain instantly overcomes the master psion, but he dose not penetrate the opposite surface. Ozzob is instantly there and plunges his arm into the creature; the sorcerer grabs his friends arm and rips Dedrick from the gel’s grasp.

Incapacitated by the pain, Dedrick is unable to help himself; Tolvis swipes the slimy remains from his friends face. Ozzob and Leone grab the psions arms and drag him down the tunnel away from the creature. After a short walk, the tunnel opens into a small cavernous chamber, in the center of the space a waterfall peaks through a crack in the ceiling and pools on the ground. Ozzob and Leone drag there friend into the water and wash away the slime that continues to eat through his clothing.

Restored by the pure water, Dedrick opens his eyes to see the frantic faces of his companions. Life returns to the master psions body, he sits up in the shallow pool. Not attempting to speak yet, he simply points to a tunnel leaving the room. Natural light, daylight, peers down the tunnel.

The slime droplets scraped from Dedrick’s body begin to coalesce in the pure water; the gel floats to the surface and moves, the water its self begins to bubble. The four companions, in unison, agree to leave before this new creature fully forms. With a minute of chasing the light rays, the group finds a way out of the caves and back to the surface of the mountainside.

#

The craggy cliff face of the great mountain looms in the distance; the four companions set a brisk pace down the road. This journey has taken them so many places; with the final task complete, the group sets a direct course for Woodwake and bed. Each of the four carry a collection of stories gathered on the road, paid for in blood.

Dedrick and Tolvis make slight conversation about relocating, and rebuilding there home. Leone’s mind wanders as his thoughts take him back to the reason he ended up here, a sealed crate, curiosity, and a single mistake. Ozzob heads the path like the point of an arrow, he internally recounts the adventure, and he remembers the trip home.

#

I can remember the smell as if I was just now getting back to the village. Some of the citizens, prided by Ingrlo’s work, had prepared a reception for the returning conquerors. However, we deserved nothing so grand. I loved leaving for the road, a good adventure fills my spirit, but I loved it because everything seemed new when I returned home. Everything was new, new… and empty.

Caterine’s family did not greet us on our return. They had just finished burying a daughter; it was no time for celebration. Mia was close to my heart; closer than I had let anyone in a very long time… death was her reward. She was used as a pawn to get close to me, and I could not bear to look at the faces of her family members, I felt relieved at there absence.

My newly earned friends glowed as we strode back into town, side by side. I believe this was the first taste of honor for Leone in his short life, a meaningless ceremony for a group of fools; his smile was so white I feared he might burst. My friends from the destroyed temple walked alongside, proud strides with hollow steps. I could never stop to consider what would happen to them, a sadness I would rather ignore.

For myself, at that time I was just happy to be home. I would have never returned if I knew what was in store for us.

#

The common room of Woodwake’s premier inn is quiet. Baddlack and Kis’larn make simple conversation while sharing a bottle of ale. Leone steps through the front door of the inn; his clothing saturates mud, his skin is not much cleaner, the result of a week spent crawling through caves.

“Who is this… miscreant?”

“De stranger.”

“Really?”

Baddlack slides from his seat and walks over to greet the outsider. The dwarf holds out a hand as a greeting. With a meek sound, Leone indicates that he wants a room and a place to clean up. Kis’larn quietly sits in the darkness, casting a sultry smile in the rogue’s direction.

#

Mia Elone, the grave marker reads. Ozzob stands silent at the grave, mentally pacing the grounds. Two people can share a bond in some instances that will transcend life and death. Mia looks back at Ozzob from a spiritual land, reflected as a shadow of the real world. Her spirit has not released from love; she remains trapped in the channel between two disparate existences.

The unreachable void is not a barrier to Ozzob; his spirit steps into Mia’s view. Shock and disbelief cover the young girls face, Ozzob slowly walks forward for a final departure. The two lovers, separated by circumstance, embrace one final time. Mia’s body begins to fade, her clothes and flesh evaporate until nothing remains, just the lonely spirit of a sorcerer.