Magnus stared in wonder at the brightly lit cavern that had been the terminus of their party’s latest fight. His brother was arguing with Kel’dhos and Telerek about who had struck the final blow. Their new addition had introduced himself as Beltayne, an elf from some frozen, gods’ forsaken part of the world. He was smiling smugly as Magnar protested loudly and with extreme vigor that his hammer had laid waste to all the party’s enemies. “Like that kitchen knife you call a sword could’ve brought down these wretches. Only by the strength of Magnar’s hammer do we live to tell the tale of my glorious deeds.”
Magnus stopped paying attention quickly and added nothing to the squabbling. Partly because he did not wish to draw attention to just how useless he had been each time the party had encountered those who meant them harm. Mostly, though, Magnus could not take his eyes off the cavern they found themselves in. It was a high and deep cavern and would have been pitch black, if not for the brightly glowing bioluminescent moss and fungi that grew along every surface of the floor and walls. Beautiful and spectacular green, orange, yellow and blue illuminated the entire room as if the party had exited a deep cave and entered the heart of a rainbow.
Pulling upon the arcane within him, Magnus sent out a low pulse of magic, unseen to the naked eye. It rippled throughout the cavern like water from a disrupting rock thrown into a pond. Magnus reached out in his mind waiting for a ripple to return to him and signal what magic was causing the brilliant colors and life that surrounded him. But, that ripple never came. He stared in awe as he realized that this room, while certainly not natural, was not the work of arcane magic. He reached down and brushed his hand across a blue patch of moss at his feet, forming theories about the nature and origin of this strange glowing flora.
He was interrupted midway through his hypothesis when he felt a violent slap on the back, knocking him forward. “HA! What sort of amateur blind mason’s apprentice chiseled this slop?” Magnar apparently decided that he had won the argument with the others and had moved on to pestering Magnus. He then looked at the floor and walls and realized what his brother had already seen, this room was not a natural cavern. It wasn’t just the bioluminescent plant life growing on the walls. It was that the walls themselves were all worked stone. Though it seemed to be second nature to dwarves, it had been years since Magnus had even thought about stone working or masonry.
“Clearly none of our kin had a hand in the carving of these stones brother” Magnus said as he stood up and brushed off his robes.
“Oh? So they are our kin again are they?” Magnar said without looking at him.
Magnus ignored the slight and began walking around the room, running his hand along the moss clinging to the poorly carved walls. When he reached the far wall he felt what he thought was a large crack, until his hand was suddenly no longer touching stone, but wood. Magnus looked closer and realized that under the camouflage of the moss a door was hidden. He looked back at the others and attempted to get their attention quietly. Magnar was walking in a large circle, peering up at the walls, laughing and muttering about dwarven excellence. Kel’dhos was clutching the pendant he wore around his neck and seemed to be arguing with their newest companion, Beltayne. Val was sitting in a corner, throwing a knife into the air and letting it fall, point first into the moss between her legs. Where was Telerek? That particular elf had always seemed a little dodgy. His eyes were always narrowed and he consistently wore a half-cocked smile, like he knew a secret about you that he’d never tell.
“What did you find?” a voice whispered behind Magnus causing him to jump. When he turned around, he saw Telerek standing there, face mostly obscured by his hood.
“What in all the hells is wrong with you? Sneaking up on me like that” Magnus said.
Telerek pulled his hood back, cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow, “I’ve been behind you this entire time.”
Magnus turned back to the door and shuddered slightly, sorcery he’s a creepy bastard.
“I am pretty sure there’s a door hidden beneath this moss here” Magnus said hoping to forget about the uneasiness the elf made him feel.
“It swings in towards us and was used recently.” Telerek said blankly.
“How could you possibly know that?” Magnus said as he tried to find a handle or hinges. Telerek placed a hand on his shoulder and pointed to the ground just beneath the door. The pale yellow moss was clearly disrupted here and was just slightly dimmer than its surroundings.
“I will go tell the others, you should remain here just in case something comes through,” Telerek said and rushed off to gather everyone else.
Yeah, because I’ve been so useful so far.
***
A short time later the entire party had gathered in front of the door. Kel’dhos was attempting to apply a healing salve to some cuts that Magnar had sustained during their last fight. But Magnar was slapping the half-elf’s hand away and made a noise that was not all that different from a growl.
“What are we just standing around for? Let’s get this door open and let my hammer make a sweet symphony of broken bones and shattered skulls.” Magnar yelled after pushing Kel’dhos away and walking towards the front.
“I think it would be more wise if you allow me to at least take a list-” Telerek had started to say as Magnar impaled his war hammer into the door and ripped it open. Magnar yanked his hammer from the door, gave a primal yell and disappeared into the room, with Beltayne on his heels. The rest of the party quickly followed the pair with Magnus and Val coming in last.
The room on the other side was a stark contrast to the wonderous beauty of the multi-colored cavern. Multiple wood structures with several small doors lined the walls on both sides leaving a large corridor between them. At the end of the corridor, a wooden wall with a large metal door had been constructed. A small orb, giving off a low, off-white glow, was resting on a pedestal next to the door. Fires inside sconces on the walls lit the large room, but only barely. In the middle of the room were several rectangular tables and at one table there appeared to be a man tied down and cut open. Two hooded figures, wearing dark robes and what looked to be masks made of bark that were covered in the same colorful moss from the cavern, were standing over the cadaver holding various plants and vines. As soon as the party had entered the room the hooded figures looked at them and dropped the plants. One quickly began shouting “Heretics! Intruders! Inquisitors!” while the other muttered something inaudible over the yelling.
The doors of the wooden structures flew open in unison and three human looking creatures emerged. All were wearing the same dark green trousers and carrying simple axes. Their faces and bare chests were blotched with twigs and fungus. They were each flanked by several of the same sentient stunted tree creatures Magnus had failed spectacularly in burning previously.
Magnar immediately dashed past the axe wielding men and blighted saplings, jumping onto the table in front of the hooded zealots. Just as he raised his hammer over his head, a flash of light burst from the hands of the nearest zealot, colliding with Magnar’s chest. A crash of thunder echoed through the cavern and Magnar was sent backwards off the table.
Magnus quickly held his right hand down to his side, speaking a short incantation to himself. He could feel the faint heat emanating from his palm as fire began to spark and grow. Magnus ignored the blighted saplings and herbologically possessed axe wielders, his companions would deal with them. He was focused solely on the masked man stalking towards his fallen brother, palms outstretched. Magnus could now feel an intense flame in his hand, like a bonfire that all his fingers sat around. He drew his hand back, taking aim across the makeshift hall at… his hand was suddenly frozen behind him. Something wrapped around his wrist, squeezing tightly. The fire fell from his hand and snuffed out immediately on the dusty cavern floor. Before he could react, his other arm was restrained. Magnus looked at his midsection and saw vines wrapping around his waist, immobilizing him. His gaze was quickly forced upward as vines began wrapping around his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Val, almost completely engulfed by the vines.
An axe wielder lay dead on the floor, just outside the room he had exited, an arrow stuck between his eyes. Telerek dropped his bow, ignoring the advancing saplings and drew a short sword as he ran back to Val. Beltayne seemed to have drawn the attention of the two other axe men. He was stabbing, with what looked like a rapier shrouded in golden light, into their chests and dancing just out of reach of their counter blows. Several saplings, their arms crudely sharpened into wooden spears, had descended upon Magnar. One of the hooded zealots was standing just outside the semi-circle of saplings who were driving the tips of their rough-hewn spear arms into a bloodied Magnar. The zealot held both hands above his head and a dark cloud was beginning to form above him.
With his vision starting to fade as the vines tightened around his neck Magnus quickly began reciting an ancient arcane spell. Three small purple shards, like darts made from violet glass, appeared in front of Magnus’ face. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the zealot, the dark cloud beginning to pulse with lightning. The darts shot toward the man at an imperceptible speed. All three passed effortlessly through his chest, bursting out of his back before evaporating into mist. The zealot's eyes went wide and he fell to the floor, dead. Magnus’ vision then faded to black.
Moments later, his eyes shot open as breath rushed back into his lungs. Coughing, he could see a bright light hovering above him and he squinted to make out its source. When his eyes were finally able to focus he could see Kel’dhos standing over him, mace raised above his head and the pendant around his neck glowing. The tip of Kel’dhos’ mace emanated pure white light and flames of the same hue scattered in all directions. The vines lay withered and dead all around him as he stood up. Two men laid dead at the feet of Beltayne and he was hacking a sapling into splinters with a small axe. Val had also been freed from her vegetative prison and was fighting a small horde of saplings with Telerek. Kel’dhos lowered his mace, the radiant light dissipating, and exclaimed “Magnus, your brother.”
Magnus looked to the end of the hallway to see Magnar slumped on the floor, nearly unconscious. Beltayne pulled his small axe free of a dead sapling and said, “I am with you dwarf!” and the pair sprinted towards their fallen comrade. Just as they were approaching the throng of timber nightmares, the cadaver that had been laying on the table threw himself onto Beltayne. Both fell to the floor as the resurrected corpse let out a screech. Magnus, selfishly, did not slow his stride and jumped onto the table. He leapt from it and landed between the swarming saplings and his brother. Wasting no time, Magnus pressed both of his palms outwards towards his enemies and fire burst forth from his outstretched hands.
Not the single ball of flame he had conjured up earlier. This was like the fires of a forge, spraying out in front of Magnus. The blighted saplings instantly burst into flame, their shrieks filling the cavern. Moments later, they all lay on the floor smoldering and motionless. Magnus staggered, immediately feeling exhaustion throughout his entire body, but managed to remain standing. Beltayne, who appeared to have returned the cadaver to its previous state, had his rapier raised to his chin. He was swiftly moving towards the single remaining hooded zealot, who stood frozen, staring at Magnus, his eyes wide in disbelief. Kel’dhos and Telerek were also quickly marching in the same direction, an army of once sentient trees dead in their wake. Val, blood trickling from her right shoulder, was conjuring fire into her hands and repeatedly slamming it into a dead sapling. The zealot quickly grabbed the glowing orb from its pedestal and ran through the metal door.
“Quickly companions, give chase before he escapes.” Beltayne ordered, racing towards the door.
Val, who had now turned the sapling into a smoking pile of ash, lifted her gaze from her cindered foe. “Oh, I can catch him if you need me to,” Val said, smiling at Beltayne. Immediately, she began running before jumping into the air. Her hands transformed into great black paws and black fur began to cover her body. What landed on the ground was no longer a half-naked elf, but a powerful and proud panther. She dashed through the open door at a speed which shook the tools that were resting on nearby tables.
“Damn it, Val,” Telerek said racing after his cousin.
Magnus grabbed Kel’dhos, partially to keep from falling over, as he passed. “Please, help my brother,” Magnus said shakily, gesturing towards the bloodied Magnar. Kel’dhos dropped his mace and shield and sprinted to Magnar’s side. Magnus followed the rest of the company through the door and after their, hopefully, last remaining adversary.
They reached Val a short distance down the dark hallway. The zealot’s eyes stared lifelessly at the arriving group as the panther-formed Val tore out what remained of his throat. Telerek, breathing heavily, shook his head and said “Well, cousin, it would have been nice to get some information out of him.”
Val lifted her head from the eviscerated neck of the zealot, cocking it to one side as blood dripped from her chin and poked the man with a gigantic paw. When the corpse gave her no reply, she turned and stalked back towards Magnar and Kel’dhos. Magnus picked up the orb that lay at the side of the deceased and joined the rest of his party as they walked back to the makeshift room. While walking, Magnus stared at the walls of the cavern and noticed that the stonework was so exquisite, Magnar himself would be impressed.
When the company returned, Magnar was sitting with his back resting against a wall. He gave no protest this time as Kel’dhos ran his hands, faintly glowing with light, over his multitude of wounds. His brother said nothing to him, just gave him a small nod as Magnus walked through the door. Beltayne and Telerek quickly began searching the rooms where so many of the now defeated enemies had emerged from. After confirming that they were all empty, Beltayne took to securing both entrances to the large hall they were in. Magnus, however, stood frozen. He stared at the zealot that lay dead on the floor in front of him, three holes perforating his chest. The wizard had never actually killed a man before. Death itself was not foreign to him of course. He had hunted animals in his youth and the Bronze Hills were famously not known for pacifism. However, Magnus had never had to raise a weapon or direct a spell against another living person before.
“I’ve healed his wounds, but he needs to rest.” Kel’dhos’ calm voice shook Magnus from the morose road his mind was traveling down.
“I think a rest is what we will all need now,” Beltayne interjected. “I have secured the doors so none shall sneak upon us. I will take the first watch.”
Magnus sat against the wall next to his brother as the mental and physical exhaustion of the last few hours began to overwhelm him. He knew manifesting the arcane always took a toll on both mind and body. However, even his final examinations at the Academy hadn’t exhausted him to the point he was at now. Being nearly strangled to death by murderous vines probably didn’t help either.
“Thank you.” Magnus heard his brother say softly next to him. Magnus looked at Magnar, who sat with his eyes closed but the hint of a smile on his lips. Magnar lightly tapped his fist on Magnus’ thigh and whispered “sparky.” Magnus took a deep breath and allowed himself to smile and look away from the dead zealot. His spell may have closed the book on that man’s life, but it also allowed more chapters to be written in his brother’s.
“Let me find you some water and a bite of something to eat brother,” Magnus said as he mustered the strength to stand back up. Magnar’s response was barely audible and it sounded like something between a grunt and “ale.” Magnus walked over to Val, who was back in her elven form, Telerek and Kel’dhos. The three were standing over one of the corrupted human corpses.
“Well, I think we found our missing loggers,” Telerek said.
“I promised Supervisor Nibbleroot that I would perform rites on these men if we were unable to save them. Allow me to do so and I will be ready to leave this foul place,” Kel’dhos replied.
Telerek looked away from the corpse and at Kel’dhos, saying “Leave? We can’t leave. We may have found the missing men, but we must discover the source of this rot.” Kel’dhos began to protest against venturing any further into the cave, commenting about the “unholy” nature of the place. Telerek argued that more loggers would go missing if whatever caused their infection was not dealt with. Finally, the two agreed to put the matter to a vote. Magnus was exhausted, but too many questions remained unanswered and his scholarly appetite needed to be satiated. “We must push on Kel’dhos” Magnus said looking into the pleading eyes of the cleric.
“Val, what say you?” Telerek said turning towards his cousin.
Val was staring at Beltayne, who was sitting on top of a table with his rapier resting across his lap. Telerek shook Val and asked her for her vote again.
“Oh, I will follow the hero,” Val replied gesturing towards Beltayne.
Telerek rolled his eyes and let go of Val, before walking over to Beltayne with Kel’dhos trailing close behind. “Paladin, what is your vote? Do we leave or delve deeper?”
Beltayne’s eyes opened slowly and he glared at Telerek and Kel’dhos. Silence permeated the cavern before Beltayne finally responded “I did not come to find loggers. My quest remains incomplete. I will push on and rescue the villagers as has been asked of me. I will accomplish this with, or without help from the rest of you.” Beltayne then shut his eyes again and let out a long breath. Kel’dhos seemed to realize that asking Magnar was pointless, he was outnumbered, and Magnar wasn’t going to turn down the chance to fight someone else.
“We rest for awhile, then we explore the rest of this cavern. At the end, I will help you give those men their rites Kel’dhos,” Magnus said resting his hand on the cleric’s shoulder. The half-elf was staring at the ground, but gave a small smile and nodded his head before retreating back to Magnar.
Magnus was able to gather some bread, dried meat and a waterskin that he gave to his brother. The wizard ate a few bites of stale bread and some surprisingly delicious white cheese that helped return some of his energy. Magnus then began looking through the makeshift rooms of the cavern in the hopes of finding anything that may begin to answer what was happening here. The rooms all seemed to contain nothing but dirt, strange plants and a bed roll or two. Magnus then walked over to the hooded zealot that lay dead by his hand. Reluctantly, he began searching the man’s robes and discovered a small leatherbound book in a hidden breast pocket. Magnus sat down next to a sleeping, and snoring, Magnar. The rest of the party, minus Beltayne who remained sitting on the table, were all on their own personal quests to find a comfortable spot to sleep. None seemed to have accomplished this task but were attacking it with drowsy fervor.
Magnus sat and began reading what appeared to be a journal, the contents of which drew a raised eyebrow from the wizard. What started as the lucid observations of a man obsessed with his discoveries, divulged into the ramblings of a madman. Each entry a bookmark into the writer’s slowly slipping grip on reality.
Entry 1: The forest shrinks with each passing day. The axes grow closer, yet the people do nothing. They scrape a living from its edges, blind to the destruction creeping towards them. A traveler approached me near dusk—a druid like myself, or so they claimed. The spoke of spores, of something ancient beneath the forest floor. They gave me a handful of mushroom and whispered, “awaken the tree and it will protect what remains.” I will venture below and see if the roots remember.
Entry 5: A stranger from Ridgeton came to me, a merchant of flesh and secrets. They spoke of this cavern, hidden beneath the forest’s edge, untouched by axe or flame. They claimed it once served as a hideout for their vile trade, but is now abandoned and forgotten. I despise their kind, yet their knowledge proved true. The cavern is vast and alive, its air heavy with damp and decay. A perfect place to plant spores. The forest will have its revenge.
Entry 23: The tree is awake. Its amber eyes opened and it spoke my name. The spores writhe within its bark, feeding on the rot of death. I have shaped the bones of the fallen into vessels. They rise, silent sentinels of her will.
Entry 42: The sap, oh the sap is thick now. Like blood it pulses and the plants drink it. The fungus speaks in whispers. It speaks of hunger, of purpose, of knowledge. It tells them to grow, to bend and twist. It tells them to follow the call of the earth.
Final Entry: The spores sing of her glory, their whispers weaving into my thoughts. The tree hums with power, its roots entwining with my very soul. I thought I was the master here, but I see now that I was chosen. The tree is her voice, and I am her hand. Her name echoes in my dreams, Lovadth. She promises a garden of endless decay, where all things will bow and rot in harmony. The loggers will be the first to join us. Our fungi stir in the dark, eager…
***
Failure. Imposter. Traitor.
Magnus suddenly awoke to Magnar standing over him and shaking him. “I thought your book studying days were over, sparky” Magnar said as Magnus rubbed his eyes and looked around. He must have fallen asleep while reading the journal as the rest of his companions were already up and stirring. Magnus placed the journal into his small satchel and stood up, his back cracking and aching as he rose.
The party soon began to make their way down the long corridor. They quickly came upon the stiff body of the hooded zealot whom Val had nearly decapitated. Magnar, predictably, began loudly marveling at the stonework. “They’ve even got dragons carved into these pillars here. Nothing but dwarven hands could’ve chiseled this masterpiece!”
Dragons? Magnus walked over to the pillar that his brother was gawking at and inspected it. Now that he was closer, and had gotten some food and sleep, the wizard could see intricately carved depictions of dragons in the walls and pillars of the vast hallway.
Knowledge. Power. Come to me.
Magnus turned around quickly to see who had whispered into his ear, but the rest of his companions were already making their way further along. Magnus sprinted to catch up to them. The party walked wordlessly for some time, the only sounds coming from their boots scraping the stone floor. Magnar suddenly turned around and grabbed Kel’dhos by his collar.
“What the hells did you say to me you stunted ear half whelp?” Magnar growled, his face red with fury.
“I.. What? I have said nothing” Kel’dhos replied, leaning his face away from Magnar’s.
“Weakling? Did I hear that right?” The dwarf yelled, spittle spraying from his mouth and onto the cowering Kel’dhos.
“He said nothing brother, but I do believe you did hear those words.” Magnus said to Magnar. The rest of the party had gathered around the three of them and Magnus spoke to the group. “Has anyone else been hearing whispers, in your sleep or since you’ve woke?” the wizard inquired.
Every member gave a sheepish nod, except for Val who was laughing and saying “Simpleton. That’s funny, call the dwarf another name,” as she stared down the long hallway.
Magnus spoke about the contents of the journal he had taken from the hooded man he had slain. “So, I believe whatever is infecting this place has worked its way into our minds, playing on our own emotions and trying to pull us to it,” he explained.
“Well, the voice has been saying I am ineffectual and a fraud. Obviously, the foul beast hopes to turn me away. Coward. I will bring vengeance and judgement down upon it,” Beltayne said, raising his chin into the air and continuing down the corridor.
Kel’dhos approached Magnus and asked, “the journal mentioned Lovadth by name?” Magnus nodded in the affirmative. Kel’dhos touched the pendant at his chest before saying “Sioch, aid me in this fight.” The cleric then narrowed his eyes, gripped his mace and followed Beltayne.
After a short while a large silhouette could be seen ahead of them. Telerek silently stalked towards the unknown source, before returning a short time later. “Just a statue, but I’m guessing you dwarves will be impressed.” Magnus and his companions walked up and saw the statue of a large dragon, standing on two legs with outstretched wings. It stood on an alter and stared down at the group of them. The wall behind it was a circular alcove made of dark stone free of any carvings or depictions. Time had barely seemed to have taken a toll on the statue as it was in near perfect shape.
“Well, it appears this long walk has led us to a dead end” Telerek said, before adding “we may have missed a door along the way.”
Magnus stared at the statue, transfixed by it. Beneath it was carved into stone “Gerloctah, beneath my wings, lies knowledge” written in the Draconic language, which Magnus had studied for years at the Academy. “Gerloctah, one of the seven dragon emperors that ruled Eridan in the ancient past. A bringer of the arcane,” Magnus whispered to himself.
The wizard walked around the statue and inspected every inch of it. Outside of its pristine condition and master craftsmanship, he could find nothing else remarkable about it, until he looked closely at the wings. It was small, nearly imperceptible, but where the wings met the dragon’s body, he noticed a small area that had been worn away. Magnus ignored his companions arguing over what to do next and took a step back. Two large, translucent purple hands formed in front of Magnus and floated over to the statue. The arcane hands movement’s mirroring those of Magnus’ own, and he willed them to grip the large wings. The wizard then pushed his hands to the floor and watched as the wings slide slightly down the body of the dragon. The entire statue slid back silently, and bright yellow light poured out from an opening beneath where it had been. The arcane hands dissipated, and the entire party crept towards the opening. A spiral staircase leading downwards into the light was visible from the edge.
Come to me.
End of Chapter