The Dark Lord looked upwards, trying to find the top of the great tree. Migaal claimed it was called Vyrn, the world tree. They had been travelling towards this very destination for the last two months. Zalrodal had waited throughout the winter in his fortress which was now in a much-improved state. His demon companion on his shoulder informed him that there was allegedly a source of Visapis growing within the tree and they had travelled here with wanting to see it for themselves. He had taken ten goblins with him as a guard force and two of the Stenjin who insisted on seeing the Visapis for themselves. The magical metal was the only thing that combined with their own magical stone, the Heart of the Mountain, could turn them into their original form. The group was covered in the shadow of the trees blue leaves and walking among the roots that expanded and burrowed themselves in the landscape for miles. The area around the tree seemed to be populated by a couple of small villages but nothing that would indicate that others knew of the existence of any Visapis appearing within it, attaining the most valuable of resources would not be stopped by some tree, no matter how large.
One of the Stenjin waddled over to the side of Zalrodal, it’s stumpy stone arms held out holding the mountain heart. “Will you be able to restore us with what is in that tree?” the creature of stone asked in a reverential tone.
“I can’t promise it will be work, but I would hope so. Besides Visapis is good for more than only turning you back into your original forms, so it wouldn’t have been a wasted trip” the Stenjin seemed to have a look of understanding within its hewn face.
“That is good, wasting time is not good. I once spent one hundred years making a tunnel that led nowhere,” the Stenjin seemed to truly understand the concept of wasted time.
The Dark Lord sent out his minions to search the tree for any entrance, Migaal had told him the Visapis would be underground and that there was supposed to be an entrance within its roots. The goblins ran along the roots towards the tree, climbing on top of them and looking into the distance in hope of seeing anything. It was hard work to move around the tree, climbing over roots the size of houses was as exhausting a task as any and the closer they got to the actual tree the more the roots looked like rivers streaming out of a single source. Zalrodal settled himself close to the tree’s body, a constant fall of blue leaves surrounding the area he was in. He looked at one of the goblins who was sticking his head into a bush growing out of one of the roots, the goblins ventured into the wall of leaves. He expected the goblin to come out again realising there was nothing there. The goblin did not return, and after a couple of minutes, Zalrodal called the rest of his goblins to him and investigated the disappearance.
Zalrodal put his arms forward shoving aside the branches and pushed his body into the wall of blue. He took a step forward followed by another, it must be easier to do these things when one was smaller he thought. He gave one more push and stumbled into a tunnel behind the bush. He slipped and started sliding down through a tube made of roots. Zalrodal descended, his feet ahead of his body slowing his descend into the dark, chips of wood were thrown into the air like sparks every time his feet touched the roots. He could not hold the position for long or his legs were bound to break under the pressure. Behind him, he heard a couple more noises and suddenly with a thundering sound that drew ever closer the two Stenjin rolled up beside him in a wave of wooden chips. The two of them flanked his side and started slowing the descend as he held onto them. They acted as an anchor in his rapid descend and they reached the end of the tube at a not so neck-breaking speed, the three goblins that had followed him into the depths were piled up on top of him, having held on for dear life to slow their own descend.
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Zalrodal took his first step in the cave and immediately felt the body of the first goblin under his boot, it was rather as lifeless as one could expect from a goblin falling hundreds of feet. The cavern they found themselves in was lined with the roots of the tree but was illuminated by bright pieces of metals growing out of the many folds in the wood. At the centre of the room, there seemed to be some sort of platform made of stone and glowing faintly in the light. Migaal jumped off the Dark Lord’s shoulders and made his way towards the platform wiping away the dust with his paws. In the meantime, the goblins and Zalrodal himself made their way towards the Visapis most valuable of metals. The only thought in their eyes was greed at the enormous treasure within the cave. Which of course meant they started grabbing as much as possible. It only took a couple of moments of stuffing their bags with the precious metal that a rumbling sound filled their ears. The roots started constricting towards the middle of the room, blocking the exit through the tube they came from and pushing them towards the middle, to be crushed once the circulating roots conjoined like a whirlpool of wood. Zalrodal rushed towards the middle were Migaal stood.
“Please tell me this thing says something useful,”
“Well, whatever it is, it is written in an ancient language that I am not too acquainted with. Something about the old powers of Erendal and nature and whatnot.”
“Is that all? That doesn’t help us a lot right now!”
“Oh, oh, I forgot this word here means exit,” Migaal nodded to himself, “Probably should have mentioned that first, right?”
Zalrodal stood on the platform hoping for something to happen, but the walls grew ever closer. Slithering towards him and the goblins.”
Suddenly an explosion of light engulfed what remained of the cavern, and Zalrodal turned to see the Stenjin surrounded by light, the two of them grew, their circular body becoming more humanoid, much more like the golems he had heard about. Their face morphed into the upper part of a larger stone structure supported by its now longer legs. The two of them were holding the mountain heart in the stone fingers and held a bunch of Visapis in their other hand which they pressed against the heart. As they grew and the Visapis crumbled, the heart started glowing and along with it the platform under them started shining in a silvery light. The roots stopped moving closer when they bordered the platform, they still slithered in circles around it but grew no closer. The Stenjin took another piece of Visapis from one of the goblins and pressed it against the floor. A pillar of light erupted from the stage filling the air between them in silver.
A path opened before them, the wood grew apart and they stepped onto the grass outside the tree. Once they all left the hole that had formed in the centre of the tree’s trunk grew back and the wood closed as if nothing had happened just moments before. They were out of the grasps of the tree, a grand total of ten pieces of Visapis to their name and two newly acquired Stone-Forms for the Stenjin, who now towered over even Zalrodal.
“The promised has been fulfilled, we thank you,” One of the Stenjin said, its mouth emitting the sound of grinding stone, “we shall uphold the pact with you, in serving us we will now serve you. Memories of older times flood my mind, it is a strange feeling. I am not sure I understand what is happening, but we must bring this to my people.”
Zalrodal looked at the Stenjin now grown into a new resplendent form and thought to himself, I must bring this to your people. This was something made for war not digging worthless tunnels in mountains, a warrior carved out of the mountains and willing to fight for him, it was a worthwhile trip, if only they had taken more Visapis with them before they left. They checked the entrance into the depths of the tree again but it had grown shut with new roots, it seemed the tree did not want anyone back for now.