by C. M. Carney
“Hey, get off,” Wick said, trying to slap the imp off his shoulder and failing. Xeg bounced and sang and then reached down the back of Wick’s shirt and tugged. A gold chain popped out and Xeg tugged harder, choking Wick. After a moment the chain snapped and Xeg pulled it free. Dangling from the chain was Wick’s Bond Ring.
Wick coughed and sputtered for a minute before regaining his breath. He then ran after the imp who bounced from shelf to bed and onto Ovrym’s back. “Give that back,” Wick finally said through coughs.
“You said any something. This something Xeg need.”
“Anything but that,” Wick said with deep anger. Gryph held him back, earning a glare or ire from the gnome.
“Just watch,” Gryph said. Wick calmed somewhat, but he glared at Xeg like a father glaring at his daughter's prom date. Xeg closed his eyes and mumbled a chant.
A oily glow pulsed from Xeg’s palm and into the ring. The ring drank in the energy like a dry sponge tossed into a full sink. Wick grumbled and Gryph couldn’t blame him. This was much more than a symbol of his love for Tifala, it was an actual magical connection. Whatever the imp was doing was a violation. Then it got worse.
Xeg tossed the ting into the air and caught it on his long, very slimy tongue. He then moved it around his mouth in a manner that would make a stripper blush. He even gargled the ring at one point. Finally he jumped down, grabbed Wick’s hand and spit the ring onto the gnome’s hand. The ring landed with a sickening slop and mucus, spittle and various other viscous and cloying semi liquids bubbled on his palm.
“Well, I can go the rest of my life without seeing that again,” Ovrym said.
“Trust me, you got off easy,” Wick said as the slime slithered and burned his skin. Wick wiped the ring as best he could on a spare rag and returned it to its place under his shirt.
“Okay, Xeg and uglies go now,” Xeg said.
“Aw too bad Xeg. Your 24 hours up. Looks like it is time for you to go,” Wick said with a small look of triumph.
“No. Xeg stay.”
“Wait what? It’s been almost 24 hours. I thought you said you could only stay in the mortal realm for a day?”
“You speaks. Xeg agreed. Don’t mean true.”
“Wait, you don't have to stay here for 24 hours every time I call you?”
Xeg shrugged and picked at his teeth with a wickedly hooked nail.
“Xeg, answer me,” Wick demanded.
“Xeg come you say. Xeg go you say. Xeg don’t even know what hour is.”
Both Gryph and Ovrym had to laugh at Wick’s shocked expression.
“You and I will have a long speaks if we get out of this,” Wick grumbled. “Now go and find Tifala. Then come right back. Do you understand?”
Xeg grumbled and shook his tiny, crackless butt at Wick.
“Say you understand,” Wick repeated.
“Course understand. Xeg no dummy head. Xeg have more gooder idea. Xeg say give ugly pokey man to soul wizard. Xeg want pretty lady back.”
“We all do you creepy red monkey,” Gryph said.
“Xeg no monkey,” the imp blurted in anger before sticking his tongue out at Gryph. "Wait, what is monkey?”
“Xeg. Go. Now,” Wick commanded in a tight voice.
With one last grumble the imp disappeared in a flash of sulphur and flame.
Wick inhaled deeply and pulled the ring from under his shirt once more and cradled it gently in his palm. Worry painted his face.
“We will save her,” Gryph promised.
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Wick said, eyes red with tears and fear. He looked at Gryph and Gryph knew that in that moment he would trade the world for Tifala. Would I do the same for Brynn?
“That is not the way,” Ovrym said. I know you want it to be, but you know it isn’t the way.”
Wick turned his eyes down and shame and fear gripped him. Gryph walked up to him and pulled him close. Wick resisted for a moment before giving in. He looked up with a strength that bellied his small size.
“So, what’s the plan?” Wick asked.
“We need help,” Gryph said.
“Yeah, and where are we going to find that? This place isn’t exactly brimming with friendly faces,” Wick grumbled.
“I know some people,” Ovyrm stated in a tone that suggested it was the last thing he wanted to consider.
“Friends?” Gryph asked.
“Not exactly. They’re called the Grey Company. I used to be a member.”
“Used to be?”
“Let’s just say, we didn't see eye to eye on a few things.”
“And they’ll help us find Tifala?” Wick said in a voice near begging.
“If we pay their price.”
“And what is their price?” Gryph asked.
“Me.”
36
O vyrm led them down a tunnel that hadn’t seen use in years. Dust and cobwebs clung to every surface. The tunnel twisted and twined and turned back on itself. Several times they had to squeeze through thin cracks, but Ovrym pushed them on. Once they had to jump across a crevasse and the floor dipped at an odd angle. While they walked Gryph checked his prompts.
You have received 15,637 XP for slaying Wyrmynn X 10.
You have received 11,666 XP for slaying Hell Hound.
Impressive, Gryph thought.
"Did you know that the Barrow was once on the surface," Ovyrm stated in a tone that made Gryph think of the bored tour guide the time when the Colonel took him and Brynn to see the Washington Monument.
“It was a tower that stood taller than the tallest trees. Then, some cataclysm occurred, and the earth swallowed the tower. Eventually a hill of grass grew over the entrance. Local told tales of ghouls and revenants, saying the Barrow was haunted.”
“Looks like the locals were right,” Wick said. Gryph could tell his the gnome was attempting to jest away his fear over Tifala.
They rounded a corner and Ovyrm stopped. "Do either of you have any affinity for Thought Magic?”
“I don’t,” Wick said.
“I have 100% affinity in every sphere,” Gryph said in a low voice. Wick and Ovyrm stared at him in shock. “The Godhead.”
Neither man was eased by that answer but Ovyrm stepped up to Gryph. “I will teach you something.” He held up his hands. “May I?”
Gryph hesitated before nodding. Ovrym placed his hands on Gryph's head, feeling the power of the man’s grip.
“Close your eyes and try to ease your thoughts.”
Gryph closed his eyes and breathed in deeply several times. Inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth. Then he felt, or perhaps heard, a low hum as unseen energy built around Ovrym’s hands. The humming increased and then waves of warmth pumped from Ovrym into Gryph. Tendrils of thought whorled their way through the fog that clouded Gryph’s mind and then suddenly he knew.
You have learned the spell Mind Shield
Sphere: Thought Magic - Tier: Base.
Allows the caster to shield his mind (or the mind of another with the proper leveling).
Mana Cost: 50 - Casting Time: 2 seconds - Effectiveness: For purposes of resisting metal attacks, Mind Shield temporarily allows the user’s Wisdom to mimic their highest Attribute. Duration: 10 minutes per level. Each tier of mastery allows the caster to shield another mind. At Grand Master level, all allies of the caster are shielded. - Cooldown: Ten minutes.
You have learned the skill THOUGHT MAGIC - Level: 1 - Tier: Base - Skill Type: Active.
You can now wield the power of Thought Magic. Thought Magic allows the user to tap into the power of the sentient mind. Advanced users can tap into The Source itself, the organizing intelligence behind the formation of The Realms and perhaps the only true God. Thought Magic makes use of spells that enable one to see others thoughts, manipulate the minds of others and affect the world with their thoughts. Users of Thought Magic are rare and most do not advertise their abilities. For obvious reasons they are mistrusted.
Gryph eye
s popped open, and he nodded wryly to himself at the last comment of the prompt. Having just had his mind nearly shredded by Thought Magic he understood the mistrust all too well. He would endeavor to learn all he could about this magic. If nothing else, it would help protect him from creatures like the arboleth.
They rounded another corner and a break in the masonry of the Barrow revealed a deep shaft. Gryph stuck his head through the broken wall and looked down. An immediate sense of vertigo gripped at him and his knees buckled. The shaft disappeared deep into the ground much further than Gryph’s night vision could pierce. The shaft was uneven and had the bulbous texture that reminded Gryph of cooled magma. Had this shaft melted? Is this where the earth swallowed the tower?
“You want us to go down there?” Wick said with trepidation.
“It’s how I got up here,” Ovyrm responded as if that helped.
He ignored Gryph and Wick’s exchanged glances and tugged on a metal piton set into the masonry.
“You hammered these in?” Gryph said. He could see the faint metal glint of several more descending into the darkness.
“Yes.”
“There has to be a another way,” Wick complained again, his face blanching as he looked down the shaft of endless black.
“There is, through the wyrmynn camp and then through the under lake where Gryph had so much fun and then through the Warrens and then through the Grove. At least Gryph killed the arboleth for us.”
“Well that doesn’t sound so bad,” Wick said. “The Grove sounds lovely.”
“It’s the home of a dark dryad and her army of wolf spiders.”
“Oh, well maybe the death shaft is all right then,” Wick said and once again stared down into the unknown depths. Gryph knew Wick was covering his fear with sarcasm and knew that fear wasn’t only about the chasm below them, or the wyrmynn or even a troop of wolf spiders, but a deep fear for his missing love. Gryph grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.
“We’ll find her,” Gryph said.
“How can you be sure?” Wick said, his mask falling away and his eyes pleading.
“Because the Barrow King doesn’t want Tifala,” Gryph said. “He wants me.”
Gryph cast Animate Rope and ordered his rope to secure itself to the piton. Ovrym nodded as Gryph spun around and dropped. For a sickening moment gravity tugged him down into the unknown, but then the rope held and Gryph’s feet came to the wall.
“Just like old times,” Gryph said.
“You and I have very different old times buddy,” Wick said. Gryph gave one last glance up and thought he saw a look in Wick’s eyes. A look that said, ‘I’ll give you to him, if it saves her life.’
Gryph reached the next piton and secured his rope to it before moving on. Ovyrm picked his spots well, suggesting he had some caving experience. As Gryph descended, ancient fears built inside him. The deep dark shaft was a scary place on Earth, in the Realms it was downright terrifying.
“Is there anything in here we should be afraid of?” Gryph said in a whisper when the group had gathered on a large outcropping to rest.
“A dose of healthy fear helps one survive.”
“Yeah, that is the worst way you could have answered that question,” Wick said in a low voice, his eyes moving to and fro.
“Just stick to the path and we should be fine. But it is best if I lead.”
“Should be?” Wick said. “I’m pretty sure I hate you.”
Ovyrm said nothing as Gryph helped him over the edge, but Gryph could see a buildup of apprehension as the man eased himself down. Despite the thundering of his heartbeat they traversed three more rope lengths before the terrain changed.
This latest stop was on a small rock bridge that traversed from one side to the other as if it was some kind of support beam. As Gryph’s feet hit the bridge, Ovyrm brought a finger to his lips, requesting silence. Gryph’s eyes scanned the area, but the darkness was too great and even his night vision couldn't make out any details.
Gryph helped Wick down and motioned for his silence as well. The gnome didn’t exactly have a track record for being quiet. Wick nodded and likewise cast an apprehensive look. Ovyrm hung over the side of the bridge and pointed his hand straight down. Silent chanting resulted in a pulse of purple energy firing from his hand. It travelled about a hundred yards, where it hung in the air, illuminating the area.
Gryph noticed how much slimmer the shaft became and a dread feeling of claustrophobia built up inside him. Then he saw that the walls were moving.
Gryph snapped his gaze up to Ovrym whose grim look did not ease Gryph’s fears. Wick clapped a hand over his own mouth to prevent his natural outburst. A moment later he pulled his hand away and mouthed “What the hell” to the other men.
Ovrym eased himself down and clipped his rope to the piton sunk in the underside of the bridge. Then as gently as a mother caressing a babe’s brow, the tall warrior eased his way down. Wick went next with Gryph bringing up the rear.
About a dozen yards down, a rough horizontal line bisected the entire shaft. Gryph realized that it was a vein of silver. It shone a dull purple in the light of Ovyrm’s spell and whatever horror clung to the walls seemed incapable of passing the silver barrier.
Gryph pushed back a feeling of panic as he lowered himself past this barrier and into the maw of the pulsating shaft. A sickening sensation dug into his gut as he began to understand why Ovyrm had armed them with the silver solutions.
Ahead of him both Ovrym and Wick had stopped. About two yards below Ovyrm’s dangling feet another stone causeway bisected the shaft, but this time instead of naked stone, this bridge swarmed with roiling motion.
Gryph found his eyes drawn to the inky movement. Gryph had no real world equivalent for what he was seeing unless crude oil somehow learned how to pulse with some wretched mockery of life.
Ovyrm eased his satchel open and removed a flask of silver laden liquid. He thumbed the top open and poured the contents in an even swath along the bridge. When the silver solution touched the ooze it reacted as flesh to fire and retracted as it burned. Tendrils rushed away from the burning liquid and the smell that reached Gryph’s nose forced him to hold back a retch.
Gryph Analyzed the retreating blob.
Behemoth Black Ooze: Level 66: H:2,200/S:4,044/M:0/SP:0 - Black Oozes are sentient aberrations born from the misuse of soul magic. They start off small, but over time they can grow to be incredibly large and deadly. They are intelligent, but incredibly alien and have no sympathy for any other being in the Realms. Strengths: Unknown. Immunities: Unknown. Weakness: Unknown.
Gryph’s mind reeled in horror. This thing was one massive organism, and it completely surrounded them. Its total health dwarfed even the arboleth. Below him, Gryph could hear Wick’s breathing become erratic as panic invaded the gnome’s mind. Ovyrm’s eyes snapped up at Wick, which only caused the gnome to breathe heavier.
The ooze seemed to sense the noise and stretched out tendrils from the surrounding walls. First one then another, then dozens, then hundreds. Above and below them tentacles searched. Wick was about to lose it. Gryph quickly cast Mind Shield on Wick, hoping that it would ease his fear.
After a moment, Wick got his breathing under control, but the tendrils of ooze continued to search, and they were getting closer. Ovyrm reached into his bag again, but this time he threw the vial against the wall a dozen feet below the bridge. It exploded and cast a silvery wave of liquid in all directions. The ooze spasmed in pain again and pulled back from the spot of the attack. Better yet, nearly all the tentacles grasping towards the party retracted and reemerged around the point of the attack.
Ovyrm dropped silently to the cleared bridge and motioned for the others to do the same. Soon all three crouched on the bridge. Ovyrm pointed down and the ball of violet light barely illuminated another bridge about thirty feet below. Ovyrm tied another length of rope around the bridge and motioned for Gryph to take point on the next leg.
Gryph eased himself over and clim
bed down. A few feet above the next landing, Gryph paused and tossed his own silver grenade onto the pulsating mass of ooze. Once again, the ooze instantly retreated allowing Gryph to land softly.
He looked up to see Wick easing himself over the edge and down the rope. Wick was barely halfway down when Gryph saw the ooze advancing once more. Ovyrm was running out of space. He shot a quick glance down at Gryph who nodded in understanding.
Hurry, the look said.
Gryph tossed a frantic look at Wick and motioned for him to hurry. The gnome nodded and increased his pace, seeming to contain his fear. Above him Ovrym eased himself over the edge and moved down the rope by alternating tight and loose grips.
Wick dropped into Gryph’s waiting arms, jumped down and pulled two of the silver grenades from his pack, eyes trained in all directions. The tendrils came close a few times, but Wick ducked under them, keeping his cool.
Gryph looked back up to see Ovyrm about halfway down. Despite the speed of his descent, Gryph could see that the ooze had reached the rope and was eating through it. He will not make it. Gryph realized. He pulled his rope from his side and cast Animate Rope. The length of spider silk twined itself around his waist and then around the bridge he was standing on.
Ovrym slid down the rope again, but this time when he gripped the rope to slow his descent, the force on the acid damaged rope proved too much and it snapped. To his credit, Ovyrm did not scream as he fell. Gryph moved to catch him, but Ovrym hit the bridge mere inches from his grasp.
Ovyrm’s head smashed against the stone with a wet thud. For a moment it seemed as if he’d be able to hold onto the stone trellis, but the impact caused him to lose consciousness. His grip went slack and he fell over the edge.
Without hesitation Gryph leaped off the edge. He dove at the tumbling man, arm outstretched. Just as Ovyrm was about to pass the limit of the rope’s length Gryph grasped him by the ankle.
Gryph held on with all his might and was happy he’d tossed a few points into Strength the last time he leveled. He felt his shoulder nearly dislocate and Ovyrm’s ankle snap as the rope arrested their downward spiral.
