Empirical Gnollage: Installment 90 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment090.png]
The clearly unnatural effect on the stone wall was nothing Al had ever seen before. The familiar arcane concepts associated with the visualization of magical effects practically forced themselves through Al's mind so that he could watch what was actually happening.
Both the intensity and complexity of what Al saw was beyond his ability to properly comprehend, but careful examination of the swirling storm of magic radiating out from the metal disk seemed to suggest that it was being pulled towards some specific place or thing. The visibility of the magical activity also made clearer to Al what was happening to the wall.
"It's not the wall that's stretching," Al announced, backing away towards the door, "it's the world."
Seeing Al backing away, Gruntle crouched low and began to back away as well.
"Neat! Is it dangerous?" Wikwocket asked, approaching the wall to look closer. The area of the stone wall that seemed to be stretching away from them was widening. Wikwocket drew BiteySue again and tapped gently near the edge of the distortion, which sounded and felt like metal tapping on ordinary stone.
"I don't know if it's dangerous, that's why I'm getting away from it!" Al warned.
Bote walked calmly to the side of the room so as not to be in front of the distorted wall.
"If this is meant to enable our new associates to come and collect this creature by some means, I doubt this effect is meant to be dangerous to us," Bote suggested, "Perhaps we may not want to be between it and what is being collected, however."
"Point taken," Al conceded, and rushed to stand next to Bote, followed closely by a worried-looking gnoll.
In ordinary sight, the metal disk appeared to have sunk a foot or more deep into the stone of the wall, deforming a wide area around it into a funnel shape. What Al could see while his eyes were tuned into the manifesting patterns of magic was even less natural, as some force seemed to be pulling the object against reality itself.
An almost inaudible sound a bit like tearing paper heralded the stone wall snapping back away from the hole the coin-like disk had torn through it. A clean circular hole several paces wide was opened in the wall to reveal another room. A quiet whoosh of air being sucked through the opening preceded a loud CLANG! as the metal disk shot in an arc across the space and to the left, smacking firmly into the center of a brass gong in front of the leftmost wall. The gong's surface was embossed with a complicated spiderweb pattern, which Al could see associated with swirling patterns of magic that entangled with the magic of the smaller disk.
The room beyond the opening was well-lit by oil lamps. It was perhaps five paces square and made of smooth white stone. It gave Al the impression of an unusually clean prison cell, due to the only other visible feature of the room being a large door clad completely with riveted iron in the middle of the wall directly opposite the wall Al was looking through. Someone on the other side of the door pulled a narrow panel out of it at about head level, and a pair of eyes peeked through. Al heard a voice that was at least human-like mumble a rhythmic chant for a few seconds.
"Undead!" the voice called out from behind the door. "Giant bug! About the size of a horse! Active, but it looks immobile!"
"Understood!" another voice called out. Sounds of multiple people busily running around began and then were stifled by the replacement of the panel in the door. Wikwocket leaned out from behind Al to look. Gruntle's head leaned out on Gruntle's long neck over Al to watch as well.
Less than a minute later, another loud shout rang out from behind the door.
"Three! Two! One!"
The One! was obscured by the sound of a heavy bar sliding out of the way, and the door swung outward. A pair of human-sized figures completely encased in suits of plate armor rushed out to take up places on either side of the door, holding gleaming silvery boar-spears. One of them spotted Gruntle.
"Gnoll!" one of them shouted in a masculine voice from somewhere inside his helmet, pointing his spear in Gruntle's direction.
"How many?" came a rough feminine call from beyond the doorway while several more human-sized people with metal helmets and well-crafted leather armor rushed through the doorway carrying crossbows. With obviously practiced precision the first two knelt to point the crossbows at Gruntle while the other two stood behind them and did the same. The steely heads of the crossbow bolts were each wreathed in a silvery-white flame.
"Just one that I can see!" the armored figure answered.
Al noticed the gnoll's toothy grin growing. "Wait! Wait!" he yelled, raising his hands and stepping out where he could be clearly seen. "He's with us, don't attack!" He heard Gruntle huff.
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"Who are you, and how many more are there?" whoever was in the armor demanded to know, shifting his spear to point warily at Al. The others kept their aim at Gruntle.
"How many of what? There are four of us here, only one of us is a gnoll if that's what you mean," Al replied, keeping his hands up.
"There's never just one gnoll," the other armored figured argued.
"That's true!" Wikwocket agreed cheerfully, stepping out to stand next to Al. "We're actually all gnolls! Al, here, is our mighty clan shaman and a sword hero, so don't make him mad!"
Cackling laughter came from beyond the doorway behind the crossbow crew. A hunched elderly woman walked out with the aid of a cane. She wore plain gray hooded robes that appeared to be completely covered with pockets. Her head was shaved smoother than her face, and one eye squinted beneath an old scar across the side of her wrinkled forehead, whose cause must have just barely missed blinding her. Her teeth behind her wide smile were incongruously all intact and clean.
"Don't worry about them, focus on the retrieval," she demanded. The crossbows all shifted to point at the spider, but the two spears still aimed to ward off Al and Gruntle.
"Ma'am, that's a gnoll," the armored figure who'd originally spoken insisted. The elderly woman hobbled around until she could reach up to smack the side of the man's helmet with her cane.
"Hey!" she demanded, "Who's in charge here? Listen..."
Still holding onto his perception of the magical flows, Al took a few moments to look over the armed crew that had come out to meet them. Both spears had that unnaturally real look common to magically-enhanced objects, and the clearly supernatural flames on the crossbow bolts had a shine of divinity. The old woman's cane shone with complex magics that Al couldn't quite place. Her robes had a recognizably protective enchantment of some sort, and many of the pockets seemed to be carrying magically-active objects.
The man dutifully leaned down so the old woman could say something quietly to him. Al thought he caught Cyrus' name amid the murmured statement. The man's spear wavered and relaxed, then shifted to point towards the spider. The other did as well after a moment's hesitation.
"Him again. Should have known. But that's still a gnoll," the armored man persisted. The old woman shook her head and hobbled across the room towards the opening in the wall where Gruntle watched, looking confused. His lips pulled eagerly back from his teeth when the old woman reached into a pocket, but relaxed again when she took out a long stick of dried meat that looked like it shouldn't have fit in the pocket.
"Here," she said, holding the stick of meat up towards Gruntle's face once she was close enough. Gruntle drooled and bit into it. "Just like he said. Too bad that's not what we're here for." She turned back to the armed and armored team still waiting defensively behind her as Gruntle stepped back, pulling the meat-stick out of her hand. "Don't just sit there, you know how long this stays open so we don't have time to waste. Move!" Al and Wikwocket jumped aside as the small militia charged in formation through the hole in the wall to surround the spider, the four crossbow operators standing to the sides while the armored figures moved to the front.
"Are you a witch?" Wikwocket asked, "you've got a great cackle!"
Al felt like he should object to the question, but he had to admit to himself that she did bear a lot of resemblance to the "witches" he remembered seeing in illustrations for children's stories.
"Thanks, but no, not a witch. First impressions are important, though!" the old woman answered as she hobbled past towards the spider.
"What's this?" One of the armored figures asked, prodding the coccoon gently with the butt of his spear. He flipped the spear around to aim the spearhead at it when it started struggling again.
"We think there's a zombie in there," Al explained, pointing out the merely-dead remains of the other zombies elsewhere in the room. We think that spider might have made them somehow."
The old woman cackled happily. "Good! Good, more research materials. Are you four going to introduce yourselves?" she asked while she inspected the giant undead spider.
"I'm Wikwocket D. Flibbendorfer, adventurer, thrillseeker, storyteller, and professional gnoll!" Wikwocket announced proudly.
"Oh, uh, I'm Al. This is Gruntle," Al contributed.
"I am Bote Wissengräber," Bote said. The old woman looked up to see the dwarf making the eye-nose-ear-mouth gesture of their order.
"Ah, yes, he said one of Indicina's messengers was involved. Auspicious!" she cackled, then returned her attention to the spider.
The armored spearmen stood out of reach and watched the fangs stretching out at them. "Yeah," one of them said, "this is definitely one of..."
"Yes, I agree," the old woman interrupted. "Pity all of its legs are so badly damaged, but we can work with this." She raised her cane and expertly traced a quick circular pattern along with a muttered chant. Despite the personalizations, Al recognized this as a version of the same floating disk magic that he'd learned early in his education. The shimmering transparent disk rose from the floor, lifting the spider and the presumed cocoon-zombie up into the air.
"Hey! You know how to do the magic invisible cart, too!" Wikwocket observed.
"Very useful for retrieval. You did good work for a first service, I expect we may see each other again one of these days," the old woman told Wikwocket, then turned to her militia. "Well, let's get going, anyone who's stuck on this side when it closes is going to have a long walk to get back." She turned and began hobbling back towards the hole in the wall, with their prizes floating on the shimmering disk behind her. The militia kept their spears and crossbow bolts pointed at the disk's cargo as they escorted it back.
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" Al asked as she walked past him.
"Nope!" she answered, with another cackle. "Not this time, anyway."
She turned to look Al in the eyes, though she didn't stop walking. "Cyrus is a pain but he's usually a good judge of people, and the examination went well from what I've heard. I expect you'll be allowed to know my name soon enough."
Al huffed. Wikwocket snickered at him.
"What?" Al asked.
"Nothing!"
The old woman and her guards were all through the hole in the wall and standing in the room on the other side now. The old woman waved.
"Should we follow you?" Al asked.
"Nope!" she repeated, and smacked the gong with her cane. The sound of the gong cut off with jarring, abrupt suddenness, and there was only a plain stone wall in front of them again.