“Calling this a dungeon is an understatement,” Kargon said in awe as the group got further into the cave.
It only took a few minutes of trekking through a straightforward path to reach an underground cliff. The expectation of a deeper road was quashed as they looked down towards a decrepit city. Nature overtook buildings, crushing and encasing them at random. Roots from trees above ground stretched deep within the unknown settlement. Torches in the distance flickered with their last embers making the further areas difficult to see. At the group’s feet hung the remnants of a charred rope staked to the ground with a thick quill.
“Spike and I spent weeks slowly scouring this place for Judgement only for that dragonborn to show up and fight us off.” Freckle groaned. “Any of you got rope? I can make another stake.”
She held out her hand and revealed quills across her palm. With little effort she pulled one and revealed it to be nearly the length of her forearm. As she focused on it, it grew in thickness until the thin blade turned conical.
“Peculiar,” Sariel said, then knelt on the ground.
With her draconic arm against the stone she summoned forth a braided vine that stretched down to the city below. The end broke off and Freckle’s stake kept it in place. It was impressively strong but normally Sariel would call it unnecessary. The fact she broke the natural binding of the vine went against her belief of nature’s strength. But something about Freckle’s demeanor and readiness to help them intrigued the dragon.
What the group assumed would be a short climb ended up taking nearly a minute of steady movement. The ceiling stretched so high that it seemed like a far off dreary sky. As they arrived at street level it became apparent how old the city must be. Architecture that was only found in history books stretched above their heads. Sturdy construction remained steadfast in the face of natural destruction. Chunks were torn from ceilings while others were completely caved in. Signs of struggle littered the nearby area where Freckle had escaped.
“Less stuff is broken further in. It helped us sneak pretty far without getting caught,” Freckle explained. “Then we got here and had to fight. There was no chance against that magmatic bastard.”
The jab made Kargon let out a soft chuckle. Such a simple insult did a surprising amount to calm his thoughts about Elmud. He was a magmatic bastard. But clearly far above Freckle’s ability to fight.
“I take it you’ve spent most of your time in Barbatos searching for things,” he stated as the group began moving forward.
“I prefer the term delving. Or maybe exploring. My magic lends itself well to it,” the spiky half-elf replied. With a nod she turned the group’s focus towards the corners where buildings met the floor. Thin quills jabbed into them every twenty feet. With a wave of Freckle’s hand, they let off a faint white glow and vibrated. “Each of you grab one of those as you’re going. If you see those in a building, I’ve explored it and found nothing on Judgement.”
“You seem sure that Elmud is gone. The dragonborn, I mean,” Kargon said while placing a quill between the bindings on his arm.
“He flew off a few hours after I got out. That’s why I was holed up in that rock trying to live.”
Freckle turned to Vofric and thanked him. He simply shook his head in response and smiled before stepping away to focus on the search. A quill was placed between his chestplate and under armor. Aisha was further ahead with a quill in her bun and placing another in Avant’s fur. They quickly dispersed as they approached the end of the street and vanished into the city. Kargon acted similarly and dashed into the city. Freckle shut her eyes and the quills around her vibrated and confirmed the location of her allies. With Spike and Sariel by her side, they returned to the spot the explorer was attacked.
The trio moved in silence, checking corners for any unseen threats. Empty buildings were searched easily with the sharp senses of a dragon. A simple tap of her hand against the building produced myriad vines to crawl over every available space. With focus she could feel everything through them. Unfortunately, nothing of note was present. Tomes had been destroyed in a fiery blaze. Relics of a long forgotten city were destroyed from centuries of neglect. Sariel was especially careful when retracting the vines to their place underground. Leaving this place unrecognizable would haunt her.
“Kind of you to take so much care while looking through here,” Freckle said during the brief time she stepped from one building to the next. Two quills deftly flew from her hand and landed in the occupied buildings.
From another building across the alley, Sariel replied. “There is little left of this land’s memory. It would be wrong to completely erase it.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
Sariel hesitated and stared out the empty window towards the building with the other mutant.
“Our mutations are related,” she said.
“Seems likely, yeah.” Freckle replied nonchalantly.
“Do you have any idea the pain caused by the thing that did this?”
“Can’t. My mama died after childbirth. Papa didn’t fare much better with all the ailments plaguing him. Been alone since I was a kid.”
Spike barked as he scurried from his building to Freckle’s. She let out a yelp and laughed.
“Right, sorry. Spike’s always been with me,” she clarified.
Sariel finished searching her building and moved to the next. Without a word, Freckle tossed a quill from her spot through two windows and into the entryway. The precision and control dumbfounded the dragon. This woman was obviously younger than her yet had experience beyond her years with a monstrous ability the likes most people had never seen.
“Does your ability not make you uncomfortable?” Sariel asked.
“It’s itchy,” Freckle joked, then sighed. “No. Not anymore at least. Gotten me out of my fair share of predicaments.”
A soft contemplative hum unintentionally escaped the draconic elf. She had no idea why she asked such a question. The magic of a dragon was her birthright. It stemmed from her connection to the world around her. It was an ancient ability others could only dream of. The idea that it could bother her was more frustrating than her magic had ever been. An errant glance pulled her draconic claw into view. With a slow turn she looked at the elven hand on her other side. It slowly reached over and ran across the scales on her face. Though she no longer felt their presence, it was undeniable.
“Apologies for the crude question but, does it not bother you how others view you? Do they not look down at you for your mutation?” she asked.
Freckle immediately replied, “Not the ones that matter.” It was as if she’d practiced it. A mantra to remind her of the value she presented. “Once I shut out the voices of my naysayers, I realized how few they were. Their shouts eventually got drowned out by the people who knew my worth. I only use my spikes as markers because of their enthusiasm.”
“Your allies sound wonderful,” Sariel said.
“You’re one to talk.”
Another involuntary hum was the last thing uttered by the dragon. Partially because of her realization. Primarily because of the undamaged book in her hands.
***
The group reconvened within the hour with only a few things of note. Some books, personal items, and undamaged relics were piled between them. Each took turns examining what they could understand but only Vofric read the books. They could not be magically deciphered because it was simply an old language. Thankfully his upbringing involved a number of lessons regarding the importance of understanding ancients.
“It seems Barbatos has much in common with its predecessor,” Vofric said as he shut one of the intact books. “Insofar as that this is an Arcanum Order hideout.”
“Where exactly is it?” Aisha asked while looking over the dwarf’s shoulder. Brief understanding of the words on the page helped her grasp how much time had passed since this city was on the surface.
“You misunderstand, Aisha. This is the hideout. The entire city.”
Freckle let out a whistle and looked up and down the street. “Barbatos could really use space like this. Wouldn’t have to have our numbers so spread out.”
“With large enough cities, your numbers would still appear thin,” Vofric replied.
“That’s not necessarily the case,” Kargon interjected. “We call this place a city but that’s more because of how it looks, not its size. Sure it's big, but not that much more than Neves.”
“It is clear this was no mere hideout,” Sariel said while examining one of the stone figures she had found. “Families of myriad sizes called this land home. I assume they were no longer in the field for the order. Though that begs the question of what happened here. How much time has passed since this city was buried?”
Vofric grunted as he flipped to the back of the book in his hands. Shaking his head, he handed it to Aisha and grabbed another. Swift skimming took him through three books before he slowed down. Realization dawned on him and pulled his eyes towards a tower towards one side of the city. Much of the cavern had collapsed around it and made it difficult to reach. But the upper area remained unscathed. Bare windows resembling the ones in Shusyoun allowed for entry.
“These tomes were authored nearly 300 years ago, during the destruction of the Artifacts,” the dwarf said while staring at the tower. “That was 200 years after the Great War ended. For two centuries the Arcanum Order safeguarded them before it was clear they must be destroyed. Those that could not be removed from our realm were kept within their reach throughout the world. There is no information what hideouts or landmarks hold an Artifact or which might be there. Only that they would be guarded by unseen forces.”
“Like the ever-flowing sands of Spirefell,” Kargon said. “We couldn’t so much as approach it before. But it didn’t seem to stop the demon king.”
Sariel scoffed. “He is powerful.”
“Weird time to pay him a compliment,” Freckle said.
“It is simply an observation and fact. He holds the strength to bypass a barrier intended to seal a tool that can shift the course of history.”
Kargon hummed. “But not his allies. At least I don’t think so since they mainly attacked the village. Meaning Aisha can probably get to the Artifacts with no issue.”
“That confidence is what got you hurt,” she said while looking towards the tower.
“Only because I didn’t think before fighting Elmud last time. I know better now. And I know I’m right.”
Aisha’s eyes twinkled at her partner’s determined words. The longer she stared at the tower, the more it was clear something was wrong with it. It should have fallen during whatever cave-in brought the rocks down around the base. Instead, the top remained standing with a stronger support than before. It used the very stones that threatened its existence. With a magical gleam in her eye, Aisha was able to deduce why. An aura permeated around the top of the obelisk. Though it was dissipating at a steady rate.
“With me,” she said calmly as she strode towards the tower.
The others took her tone as a signal to be wary of how they approached the spire. Only Aisha, Kargon, and Sariel slowly climbed the rocks. The others stood watch at ground level. It was clear that years had passed since the cave-in as the stones were hardened and fused together. Kargon had the easiest time ascending from decades of underestimating his own abilities. With his lead the others were able to track places to grip. Once they got near the top of the tower, he found a place to stand outside and Sariel joined him. Aisha was the only one who stepped through the thinning aura into what was once an empty belltower.
Expectations dictated the need to seek out whatever created the outpouring of magic. However, it was obvious the second she broke past. Floating at the center of the tiny room was a thick book with a chunk cut off. Frayed strings peeked out of the top of decrepit pages. A shredded golden ribbon pressed between them extended past the bottoms. Gold engravings filled with rust cut deeply into the dull grey hardcover marked with illegible words. Aisha’s focused glance at the magic letters revealed them to read “Judgement.”
Delicate hands reached for the tome and with no effort released it from its magical binding. Opening the book revealed it had not simply been a victim to time. Pages were sliced apart with no rhyme or reason. Parts were burned and left little to research. The more a page was damaged, the more faded its words. Even a magical translator was useless with incomplete information. Aisha absentmindedly flipped through the pages and stepped away from the center of the room. Tattered pages and cardstock littered the floor in a pattern that made it obvious they were used for kindling. Fire was such a common element yet the Hero only equated it to two people. She turned to look at Kargon outside who stared back and smiled.
The paramours often lost themselves in these brief interactions. Maybe they always had but now it was different. Even a simple glance lifted their hearts and soothed their minds. It was as though they were swaying together. That was new. Aisha blinked out of her reverie and reassessed the situation. Stones that had hardened over time began to move. The faltering wave of mana that was a barrier burst outward into a mist that encompassed the cave. It was a mistake to assume the protection was only to block people from getting to the Artifact. A secondary spell that froze time had been set to stop its theft.
“Calling this a dungeon is an understatement,” Kargon said in awe as the group got further into the cave.
It only took a few minutes of trekking through a straightforward path to reach an underground cliff. The expectation of a deeper road was quashed as they looked down towards a decrepit city. Nature overtook buildings, crushing and encasing them at random. Roots from trees above ground stretched deep within the unknown settlement. Torches in the distance flickered with their last embers making the further areas difficult to see. At the group’s feet hung the remnants of a charred rope staked to the ground with a thick quill.
“Spike and I spent weeks slowly scouring this place for Judgement only for that dragonborn to show up and fight us off.” Freckle groaned. “Any of you got rope? I can make another stake.”
She held out her hand and revealed quills across her palm. With little effort she pulled one and revealed it to be nearly the length of her forearm. As she focused on it, it grew in thickness until the thin blade turned conical.
“Peculiar,” Sariel said, then knelt on the ground.
With her draconic arm against the stone she summoned forth a braided vine that stretched down to the city below. The end broke off and Freckle’s stake kept it in place. It was impressively strong but normally Sariel would call it unnecessary. The fact she broke the natural binding of the vine went against her belief of nature’s strength. But something about Freckle’s demeanor and readiness to help them intrigued the dragon.
What the group assumed would be a short climb ended up taking nearly a minute of steady movement. The ceiling stretched so high that it seemed like a far off dreary sky. As they arrived at street level it became apparent how old the city must be. Architecture that was only found in history books stretched above their heads. Sturdy construction remained steadfast in the face of natural destruction. Chunks were torn from ceilings while others were completely caved in. Signs of struggle littered the nearby area where Freckle had escaped.
“Less stuff is broken further in. It helped us sneak pretty far without getting caught,” Freckle explained. “Then we got here and had to fight. There was no chance against that magmatic bastard.”
The jab made Kargon let out a soft chuckle. Such a simple insult did a surprising amount to calm his thoughts about Elmud. He was a magmatic bastard. But clearly far above Freckle’s ability to fight.
“I take it you’ve spent most of your time in Barbatos searching for things,” he stated as the group began moving forward.
“I prefer the term delving. Or maybe exploring. My magic lends itself well to it,” the spiky half-elf replied. With a nod she turned the group’s focus towards the corners where buildings met the floor. Thin quills jabbed into them every twenty feet. With a wave of Freckle’s hand, they let off a faint white glow and vibrated. “Each of you grab one of those as you’re going. If you see those in a building, I’ve explored it and found nothing on Judgement.”
“You seem sure that Elmud is gone. The dragonborn, I mean,” Kargon said while placing a quill between the bindings on his arm.
“He flew off a few hours after I got out. That’s why I was holed up in that rock trying to live.”
Freckle turned to Vofric and thanked him. He simply shook his head in response and smiled before stepping away to focus on the search. A quill was placed between his chestplate and under armor. Aisha was further ahead with a quill in her bun and placing another in Avant’s fur. They quickly dispersed as they approached the end of the street and vanished into the city. Kargon acted similarly and dashed into the city. Freckle shut her eyes and the quills around her vibrated and confirmed the location of her allies. With Spike and Sariel by her side, they returned to the spot the explorer was attacked.
The trio moved in silence, checking corners for any unseen threats. Empty buildings were searched easily with the sharp senses of a dragon. A simple tap of her hand against the building produced myriad vines to crawl over every available space. With focus she could feel everything through them. Unfortunately, nothing of note was present. Tomes had been destroyed in a fiery blaze. Relics of a long forgotten city were destroyed from centuries of neglect. Sariel was especially careful when retracting the vines to their place underground. Leaving this place unrecognizable would haunt her.
“Kind of you to take so much care while looking through here,” Freckle said during the brief time she stepped from one building to the next. Two quills deftly flew from her hand and landed in the occupied buildings.
From another building across the alley, Sariel replied. “There is little left of this land’s memory. It would be wrong to completely erase it.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
Sariel hesitated and stared out the empty window towards the building with the other mutant.
“Our mutations are related,” she said.
“Seems likely, yeah.” Freckle replied nonchalantly.
“Do you have any idea the pain caused by the thing that did this?”
“Can’t. My mama died after childbirth. Papa didn’t fare much better with all the ailments plaguing him. Been alone since I was a kid.”
Spike barked as he scurried from his building to Freckle’s. She let out a yelp and laughed.
“Right, sorry. Spike’s always been with me,” she clarified.
Sariel finished searching her building and moved to the next. Without a word, Freckle tossed a quill from her spot through two windows and into the entryway. The precision and control dumbfounded the dragon. This woman was obviously younger than her yet had experience beyond her years with a monstrous ability the likes most people had never seen.
“Does your ability not make you uncomfortable?” Sariel asked.
“It’s itchy,” Freckle joked, then sighed. “No. Not anymore at least. Gotten me out of my fair share of predicaments.”
A soft contemplative hum unintentionally escaped the draconic elf. She had no idea why she asked such a question. The magic of a dragon was her birthright. It stemmed from her connection to the world around her. It was an ancient ability others could only dream of. The idea that it could bother her was more frustrating than her magic had ever been. An errant glance pulled her draconic claw into view. With a slow turn she looked at the elven hand on her other side. It slowly reached over and ran across the scales on her face. Though she no longer felt their presence, it was undeniable.
“Apologies for the crude question but, does it not bother you how others view you? Do they not look down at you for your mutation?” she asked.
Freckle immediately replied, “Not the ones that matter.” It was as if she’d practiced it. A mantra to remind her of the value she presented. “Once I shut out the voices of my naysayers, I realized how few they were. Their shouts eventually got drowned out by the people who knew my worth. I only use my spikes as markers because of their enthusiasm.”
“Your allies sound wonderful,” Sariel said.
“You’re one to talk.”
Another involuntary hum was the last thing uttered by the dragon. Partially because of her realization. Primarily because of the undamaged book in her hands.
***
The group reconvened within the hour with only a few things of note. Some books, personal items, and undamaged relics were piled between them. Each took turns examining what they could understand but only Vofric read the books. They could not be magically deciphered because it was simply an old language. Thankfully his upbringing involved a number of lessons regarding the importance of understanding ancients.
“It seems Barbatos has much in common with its predecessor,” Vofric said as he shut one of the intact books. “Insofar as that this is an Arcanum Order hideout.”
“Where exactly is it?” Aisha asked while looking over the dwarf’s shoulder. Brief understanding of the words on the page helped her grasp how much time had passed since this city was on the surface.
“You misunderstand, Aisha. This is the hideout. The entire city.”
Freckle let out a whistle and looked up and down the street. “Barbatos could really use space like this. Wouldn’t have to have our numbers so spread out.”
“With large enough cities, your numbers would still appear thin,” Vofric replied.
“That’s not necessarily the case,” Kargon interjected. “We call this place a city but that’s more because of how it looks, not its size. Sure it's big, but not that much more than Neves.”
“It is clear this was no mere hideout,” Sariel said while examining one of the stone figures she had found. “Families of myriad sizes called this land home. I assume they were no longer in the field for the order. Though that begs the question of what happened here. How much time has passed since this city was buried?”
Vofric grunted as he flipped to the back of the book in his hands. Shaking his head, he handed it to Aisha and grabbed another. Swift skimming took him through three books before he slowed down. Realization dawned on him and pulled his eyes towards a tower towards one side of the city. Much of the cavern had collapsed around it and made it difficult to reach. But the upper area remained unscathed. Bare windows resembling the ones in Shusyoun allowed for entry.
“These tomes were authored nearly 300 years ago, during the destruction of the Artifacts,” the dwarf said while staring at the tower. “That was 200 years after the Great War ended. For two centuries the Arcanum Order safeguarded them before it was clear they must be destroyed. Those that could not be removed from our realm were kept within their reach throughout the world. There is no information what hideouts or landmarks hold an Artifact or which might be there. Only that they would be guarded by unseen forces.”
“Like the ever-flowing sands of Spirefell,” Kargon said. “We couldn’t so much as approach it before. But it didn’t seem to stop the demon king.”
Sariel scoffed. “He is powerful.”
“Weird time to pay him a compliment,” Freckle said.
“It is simply an observation and fact. He holds the strength to bypass a barrier intended to seal a tool that can shift the course of history.”
Kargon hummed. “But not his allies. At least I don’t think so since they mainly attacked the village. Meaning Aisha can probably get to the Artifacts with no issue.”
“That confidence is what got you hurt,” she said while looking towards the tower.
“Only because I didn’t think before fighting Elmud last time. I know better now. And I know I’m right.”
Aisha’s eyes twinkled at her partner’s determined words. The longer she stared at the tower, the more it was clear something was wrong with it. It should have fallen during whatever cave-in brought the rocks down around the base. Instead, the top remained standing with a stronger support than before. It used the very stones that threatened its existence. With a magical gleam in her eye, Aisha was able to deduce why. An aura permeated around the top of the obelisk. Though it was dissipating at a steady rate.
“With me,” she said calmly as she strode towards the tower.
The others took her tone as a signal to be wary of how they approached the spire. Only Aisha, Kargon, and Sariel slowly climbed the rocks. The others stood watch at ground level. It was clear that years had passed since the cave-in as the stones were hardened and fused together. Kargon had the easiest time ascending from decades of underestimating his own abilities. With his lead the others were able to track places to grip. Once they got near the top of the tower, he found a place to stand outside and Sariel joined him. Aisha was the only one who stepped through the thinning aura into what was once an empty belltower.
Expectations dictated the need to seek out whatever created the outpouring of magic. However, it was obvious the second she broke past. Floating at the center of the tiny room was a thick book with a chunk cut off. Frayed strings peeked out of the top of decrepit pages. A shredded golden ribbon pressed between them extended past the bottoms. Gold engravings filled with rust cut deeply into the dull grey hardcover marked with illegible words. Aisha’s focused glance at the magic letters revealed them to read “Judgement.”
Delicate hands reached for the tome and with no effort released it from its magical binding. Opening the book revealed it had not simply been a victim to time. Pages were sliced apart with no rhyme or reason. Parts were burned and left little to research. The more a page was damaged, the more faded its words. Even a magical translator was useless with incomplete information. Aisha absentmindedly flipped through the pages and stepped away from the center of the room. Tattered pages and cardstock littered the floor in a pattern that made it obvious they were used for kindling. Fire was such a common element yet the Hero only equated it to two people. She turned to look at Kargon outside who stared back and smiled.
The paramours often lost themselves in these brief interactions. Maybe they always had but now it was different. Even a simple glance lifted their hearts and soothed their minds. It was as though they were swaying together. That was new. Aisha blinked out of her reverie and reassessed the situation. Stones that had hardened over time began to move. The faltering wave of mana that was a barrier burst outward into a mist that encompassed the cave. It was a mistake to assume the protection was only to block people from getting to the Artifact. A secondary spell that froze time had been set to stop its theft.
