by C. M. Carney
On the left-hand side of the arch was a series of slots for Icons. Yrriel, the dwarf smith Belgaarm and the human scholar Eadweanna had poured over the library in Dar Thoriim for days for information about Port Gates. While the secret of crafting a gate was lost, they did discover how the system functioned. She had explained it to them in a briefing.
“From what we can tell each gate has a unique chain of runic symbols that identify it. All you need to do is type in the right sequence, activate the archway and you’ll be able to walk right through,” Yrriel had said.
“Just like fricking Stargate,” Lex had said with such exuberance that all eyes turned to him. “I’ll be the brilliant, yet ruggedly handsome, Daniel Jackson.” He pointed at Errat and Gryph. “You are so Teal’c and I guess you get to be Colonel Jack O’Neil.”
“Nobody cares about your stupid movies Lex.”
“This stupid movie was great, and it spawned an even greater series.”
“These movies, are they the myths of your people?” Ovrym had asked.
“Yes, they are.” Lex eyed Ovrym for a moment. “And you can be Sam Carter.” He turned to Errat and whispered. “She’s a girl.”
“Ha. It is funny because Ovrym is a boy, not a girl,” Errat said in a joyous voice and looked at Ovrym, whose stoic expression barely hinted at his annoyance.
Lex grinned and slapped Errat on the back. “See, I told you this gender thing wasn’t too hard.”
“Can we get back to reality here folks?” Gryph eyed the still chuckling duo until they were quiet. He returned his gaze to Yrriel. “Please continue.”
“So to open a gate you need to know that gate's address.”
“And we do not have an address for the Barrow,” Tifala said.
“Or anywhere else,” the elf woman said with a nod. “But there is some hope. The gate is semi sentient and remembers the sequence of the last gate that dialed in.”
“So we just need to hit redial?” Lex mocked talking on an invisible phone.
Yrriel smiled at the stocky Ordonian. “Yes. Power up the gate and hit the return rune and it should open back up to the Barrow.”
“Then what? We get to the Barrow and chill? Without some kinda yellow pages we won’t be able to dial anywhere else?”
“I assume that these yellow pages are a tome of esoteric knowledge from your world,” Ovrym said, and got a shrug and a nod from Lex. “Perhaps the Barrow contains what we need. Ouzerio hoarded knowledge after all.”
“It is a risk, but one I feel is well worth taking,” Gryph said, eyeing each member of the Adventure Party. One by one they nodded, including a reluctant Lex.
“If we end up walking, you’re giving me a piggy back.”
Now, as Gryph eased the Port Icon into the top slot on the gate, the possibility of an explosion became real. He pushed mana into the space between the stone arch and the gemstone as Yrriel had trained him. The gate resisted, like two positive pole magnets pushing against each other, but Gryph concentrated and the jewel snapped into place.
“Yay. No explosions.”
“I haven’t powered it up yet Lex.”
The stocky Ordonian backed away a few paces. Gryph ignored him and sent the activation command to the Icon.
26
Silver gray light swirled inside the white gem, skittering around the crack as the stored energy tried to find a clear path into the gate. The glow rose and faded several times before finally flaring outward from the Icon and into the gate.
Gryph eased his hand onto the return rune and pressed down. It sunk down a few centimeters and a band of aetherial energy expanded upwards from the Icon and around the archway. When it reached the opposite side, a low thrumming rose at the edge of Gryph’s hearing. His Acute Hearing ability brought what sounded like words to his ears, but it was in some language that even his Gift of Tongues ability could make no sense of.
“That was pretty and all, but nothing's happening,” Lex whined, adjusting his crotch.
“Yes, it is,” Gryph said and backed away. A point of light appeared in the center of the arch and tried to expand but sputtered as if it lacked sufficient power. Whatever odd intelligence ran the arch understood that despite the lack of power to open a full gate, a microscopic gateway still served Gryph’s purpose. “Time to see if this works.”
Ovrym took Gryph’s head in his hands and the shimmer of thought magic flowed around his hands. Gryph closed his eyes and breathed in, calming himself as his mind expanded outwards. He pushed his will through the opening in the arch and was soon inside the Barrow.
Gryph floated above the ground, an invisible, formless entity. He spent a moment contemplating the oddness of the feeling before looking around him. Several dread knights stood sentinel around the room, but it was the revenant sitting on the throne of fused bone that sent a shiver through Gryph’s nonexistent body.
A skull floating amidst a robed body of spectral darkness. Was this the Barrow King somehow returned? Gryph’s fears quickly disappeared when the undead revenant leaned its bony chin on its skeletal hand and whined.
“I am sooo bored … again.”
Gryph relaxed. This was definitely Simon. He was about to extend his mind when the voice of a dead man made the phantom hairs on the back on his absent neck raise.
“We could play a game,” came the silky voice of the traitor Dirge.
Gryph whipped his head around to see the devious Aegyptian assassin staring right at him, or more accurately through him. How? Gryph asked himself. Dirge had been the leader of the Gray Company, a band of treasure hunters and rogues that had become trapped in the Barrow years before Gryph’s arrival in the Realms. Ovrym had once been a part of their group until the xydai had learned the truth of the Gray Company’s relative safety in the Barrow. Dirge had been sacrificing members to the Barrow King, ensuring his continued survival. Gryph was to be the next victim when he’d turned the tables on the murderous traitor. Dirge died by Ovrym’s hand, a victim of his own poisoned weapon. How is he here now? Has Simon betrayed me?
Gryph forced calm into himself as he realized that Dirge was gray, sallow and parts of him had begun to rot. He’s dead, Gryph realized and his eyes turned back to Simon. What have you done Simon?
Wasting no more time, Gryph pushed his thoughts into Simon’s mind. Simon!
“Ahhhh!” Simon screamed, his voice cracking like a teenager’s. The spectre lurched forward and fell from the throne, the mists of cloak and body dissipating as the skull clattered to the floor. A moment later the skull rose from the floor and the body reformed, head turning back and forth searching. Not finding anything, Simon spun full circle, like a startled child seeing imaginary monsters. “Gryph?”
Yeah kid it’s me. Sorry about that. I don’t have a lot of time. We need you to open the Port Gate to the valley. I’m here with Ovrym, Tifala and some others. We need your help.
Simon fidgeted like a teenager who knew he was in imminent trouble but wasn’t quite sure which misdeeds had been uncovered. “Yeah, it’s not really a great time … for me.”
Simon! Gryph yelled and even through the psychic link he could feel Simon shudder. Open this door now. Gryph cringed at how much like the Colonel he sounded.
“Jeez, fine dude,” Simon grumbled and turned towards the Port Gate. "Relax and gimme a moment.” He walked past a dread knight who was staring blankly at the Port Gate. Simon smacked the undead monster on the back of the head, knocking its helmet off its head. “Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on the gateway? Useless dick.”
If the abuse irked the dread knight, it did not show it. A sound like the gurgling of an overflowing toilet came to Gryph’s ears only to cease when Simon berated the creature again. “Yeah, I know, Nnnngggggg,” Simon muttered.
Simon extended a skeletal hand and tapped at the control runes on the Port Gate. Gryph pulled his mind back through the micro gate, not wanting to risk it closing while his mind was on the other side. He suspected his mind would just snap back to his body
, but he wasn’t willing to risk being wrong.
Gryph opened his eyes back in the valley just as the singularity of energy spinning in the archway's center disappeared. Gryph reached up and removed the damaged Port Icon. Currently, it was their only way to activate the gates, and could prove invaluable if they had to send a message.
“Did it work?” Lex asked.
“We’ll see.” Gryph stared at the gate, his heart thundering with each passing second.
“You sure you can trust this kid?” Lex asked, shuffling from foot to foot impatiently.
“Yes.”
“The tone of your voice is not reassuring me dude. Remember what I said about those piggy backs. I …”
Lex didn’t finish his complaint as light shimmered in the archway. Energy expanded outwards and before their minds could process the change another place existed beyond the arch.
“Well yay us.” Lex motioned for Gryph to walk through. “After you.” Gryph scowled at Lex before walking through the gate.
“Your fear is showing,” Ovrym said as he also walked past the NPC and through the portal. Tifala, Errat and Vonn went through, leaving Lex alone with the rangers.
“I was just being polite,” Lex muttered, looking at Farrengiir, whose slight smile called out the Ordonian’s bullshit. “What’s there to be scared about?” Lex held his nose and walked through. A moment later the gate shimmered and closed.
It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the gloom and Gryph turned to Simon. The undead teen sat on his throne, flanked by Dirge and a few dread knights, when Lex squealed.
“What the hell is that?”
Gryph turned to see the Ordonian clutching Tifala’s arm. She glared at Lex and he let go like a man discovering the stick he’d just picked up was in fact a venomous snake. “Sorry.”
“Ha, I thought you were gonna crap your pants guy,” Simon said, smacking his hand on his bony knee. “Did you see his face Dirge? Oh man, that was some funny shit.”
“Yes, it was quite amusing,” Dirge said, his eyes not on Lex, but staring right at Ovrym. The xydai returned his gaze, hand on his sword. “Good to see you old friend.”
“Take a single step and I’ll kill you again.”
“Well that is unfriendly. I should be the one holding a grudge, after all you murdered my soul.”
“With the weapon you tried to use on me.” The xydai drew the first several inches of his blade. “Explain how you are still you.”
“I wish I knew. Some kind of residual memory echo, perhaps. King Skully here has raised me, what five times so far?” He looked at Simon who nodded. “Each time I’m still me, just a bit less. You’d think I’d be upset about that, but I don’t care about much of anything these days. Maybe having no soul means I cannot miss having a soul.”
Tension hung heavy until a snarky comment by Lex broke it “He talks a lot.”
Tifala eyed the NPC with a ‘you should talk’ look.
“Yeah, he's pretty annoying most days,” Simon agreed.
“Then why bring him back?” Gryph asked.
“I tried with the other dudes, but they were all just empty husks. A guy can get really lonely when his only pals are brainless corpses.” Gryph nodded, conceding the point. “My boy Dirge here may be right about that whole soul thing. None of his other buddies kept their old personalities. But don’t worry, I’ll tire of his soon enough and kill him again.”
“Let me hasten that task for you.” Ovrym took another step towards Dirge and drew his blade.
“Woah, relax everybody, we’re all friends here, except maybe you two.” Simon said wagging a skeletal finger between Dirge and Ovrym. He flowed off the throne, walked up to Lex and extended a hand. The NPC retreated a few paces, but reluctantly took the revenant’s hand. “I’m Simon and this is my dungeon.”
“My dungeon,” Gryph corrected, placing a restraining hand on Ovrym’s forearm. After killing the Barrow King, Gryph had received a series of prompts that detailed the new status quo of the ancient dungeon. While Simon was the Master of the Barrow, Gryph, who had defeated its last liege, was its lord, making him Simon’s boss.
“Yeah, right. Of course. Your Barrow. My Barrow. It’s basically all the same. So... why are you here?”
Frustration built inside Gryph and he considered lecturing the teen when he realized the absurdity of the idea. Simon may be a brat, but he was effectively thousands of years old and had been through a hell few could understand. There was a time and a place for everything and now was not the time for parental lessons doomed to failure. “We need to use the gate to get to a town called Harlan’s Watch.”
“Yeah, can’t do it. There’s only one location stored in the gate and you just came from it.”
“Ouzeriuo hoarded knowledge,” Tifala said. “We’re hoping he has a list of other gate locations somewhere here.”
“Makes sense,” Simon said. Putting a hand to his chin as he contemplated the idea. “If he does, it is probably in his old ...” A sudden look of panic arrested Simon’s thoughts and he looked up, the glowing lights that served as his eyes widening. “Um, on second thought, I doubt he knew anything about it. Sorry, seeya.”
“Simon?” Gryph asked, voice edging into anger.
“Yeah?” Simon’s skull somehow attempted to feign innocence. It was a disturbing sight.
“What are you hiding?”
A sigh came from Simon and then his shoulders slumped. “It's probably best if I show you.”
27
Simon led them through the Barrow and soon Gryph and Ovrym tensed as they realized where they were heading.
“The black ooze room.” Ovrym put his hand into his bag and removed several vials of the colloidal silver potions, handing them around to the rest of the group. The potions had proven an effective weapon against the massive black ooze the last time they'd faced it. Lex eyed the potion with curious interest, but a stern look from Gryph cut short any questions.
The black ooze was a horrific enemy capable of dissolving flesh and most inanimate matter. Wick had almost lost his life to the creature and if Gryph concentrated hard enough, he almost felt the acidic burns he’d suffered while saving the gnome.
That had been terrifying enough, but then Gryph had witnessed a smaller version of the ooze vomited forth by the Barrow King, like some unholy barf baby and the horror of the black ooze grew. He didn’t understand it completely, but it was some kind of fell soul magic. Only witnessing Ouzeriuo gumming lamely at Wick’s soul stuff like a decadent feast had been more horrifying, and only barely.
Gryph had no desire to face off against the creature again, but as the group rounded the corner and saw the entrance to the black ooze room, Gryph knew he was unlikely to get that wish. He stopped a few inches from a line of silver lain into the floor. The metal was anathema to the black ooze and burned it on contact.
Gryph had expected the formless ooze to lurch a tendril at them when they rounded the corner, but what they saw was much worse. Sitting on a throne made of shifting black ooze was a humanoid form wearing a robe and carrying a staff also made of ooze.
“Simon, what is that?” Gryph drew his spear and expanded his buckler. Behind him the others readied their own weapons.
“It looks like the Barrow King,” Tifala said in shock.
The lights of Simon’s eyes became slits as he squinted at the pulsating creature. “Really? I don’t see it.”
“Simon!” Gryph said, his irritation boiling over.
“Fine, it’s him, or some kinda memory echo or something. It appeared a few days after you left and has been hanging out ever since. Ouzeriuo was jealous of his knowledge and the Barrow thinks some part of him lived on and inhabited the only thing available.”
“The Barrow thinks?” Gryph’s ire drew Simon’s attention again.
“Yeah, the Barrow thinks. We’re kinda buddies now since we bonded.” Simon saw that Gryph did not understand. “Okay, let me make this simple. The Barrow is alive, a being made of en
ergy that resides in the passages and rooms of the Barrow. So we’re kinda standing inside its body. It's a symbiotic life-form that needs a host to help it grow and feed.”
“Feed?” A look of panic came across Lex’s face and he pulled himself away from the wall he’d been leaning on.
“Don’t worry, it won’t eat you, unless you die. Then it’ll dissolve you down and consumes your life force. But don’t worry, your makeup will still exist in the Barrow's memory, and we can remake you, well a dumber deader you, but hey better than nothing.”
“No, it isn’t you creepy bastard.” Lex hopped from one foot to the other desperate to limit his contact with the ground. Vonn slapped the NPC earning a growl and a glare.
“That’s where this Dirge came from,” Ovrym realized.
“Exactly. See, you get it,” Simon said with a grin. “Nothing to worry about.”
“You suck at comforting people,” Lex muttered, moving as far from any wall as possible.
“I want to talk with the Barrow,” Gryph said, returning the group’s focus to the matter at hand.
“Yeah, there’s really no need for that. You ask me what ya wanna know and I’ll ask it.”
“It was not a request.” The air shimmered around Gryph’s hand and he walked up to Simon and grabbed his skull in his hand.
“Not cool man,” Simon complained before both his and Gryph’s eyes closed.
Gryph wasn’t sure Telepathic Bond would even work on Simon. After all, he wasn’t a flesh and blood being with a brain. But he felt a connection made between his mind and Simon’s. The weirdness of what Simon was flowed over him. He wasn’t quite alive, nor quite dead, but something in-between.
He is undead, came an ethereal voice.
Dude, you know I hate that term.
Yet it is what you are.
