Chapter 16:

               3 Days After Spring’s Beginning

                       262 Days After The Ra’tok Attack Amia Village

                             Traezar Empire, Trade City Coskana

I follow in the wake of Kamar, people parting around him like a rock in a river. Every once and a while I could see a Diamond sacred artist, all with very different Signs.

Glancing at Kamar, I start preparing to run. He won’t be able to find me in the crowd, and I don’t think his nose will let him sniff me out.

I wait till we start turning a corner. I shift to the side, merging with a group of people crossing the street.

Glancing over my shoulder, I check to see if Kamar noticed. I don’t see him, but just incase, I duck into an alleyway.

Moving through the filth littered alley, I can’t help but be reminded of when the assassins tried to kill me. I slowly meander my way through the side streets, hoping to find a main road again.

After about an hour, I stop at a four way intersection. I’m lost.

I look at the sky, which is now blue. The sky contrasts with the drab coloring of the buildings’ walls. It had taken a full 2 day trek to get to Coskana, and the entire first day it rained.

I look at the surrounding buildings. They are made of a stone that has been weathered by time. The color pallete is muted colors and various shades of gray. It makes me depressed by just looking at it.

There is a old wooden door in the side of one of the buildings. A rickety sign hangs over it, a picture of a scroll, an open hand and a sword carved onto it. Under the picture are words declaring it the; Palmz Premier Purchases.

Maybe I can ask for directions.

Shouldering my bag, I step up the wooden stairs and open the door. Stepping into the dim shop, I am hit by a musty smell. Three shelves line the walls of the room and a row stands in the left side of the shop. They are filled with books, scrolls and other items.

A counter stands on the right side of the room, a door leading further back. Display cases are set up on the counter, various objects nestled in them. A table stand between the left side and the counter, showing off odd nick nacks .

I scan the room, but don’t see anyone else.

Taking a few steps inside, I close the door behind me. The hinges squeal in protest.

I wonder if there are any books or maps here? If I can find a good map, then I will be able to decide where to go.

Moving to the shelves, I walk down an aisle. The floorboards creak with each step of my mud splattered boots. I scan the shelves, mainly looking at the books. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the order the items are stored on the shelves. Most haphazardly placed with no indication of a filing system.

Stopping, I read the spine of a dull red book. Fiend Folio, Monsters & Peoples of Auren.

I take it off the shelf and flip through the pages with my bandaged hand. It is written in a neat, compact handwriting. From the bits I read, it is very detailed. Pictures also came along with them, giving you the general appearance of the creature.

This might come in handy. My experiences of not knowing what Kamar was, and even the Tulnar, has shown me I’m ignorant of a lot of things. It would be good to know what I might face in the future.

I keep walking down the aisle, book in hand, scanning the shelves for anything else that might be useful.

I stop and stare at a malformed skull that is inbetween a pile of scrolls and a ornate mask. It has a third eye socket in the head, and a cranium elongated in the back. The bottom jaw juts out and two tusks stick up from it.

Flipping over the tag that is tied to the skull, I read; Troll Skull.

This thing’s twice the size of my head! I oggle at the strange item, imagining what it could have belonged to.

Stepping back from the skull, I move to the end of the aisle. Turning in the next one, I start scanning the shelves slowly.

My eyes stop on a dried snake skin. It is coiled up in a box, resting on a blue pillow. The case is closed and I can see the skin through the glass.

I read the bronze nameplate on it. Snake Skin of Gilgamesh.

I scratch my chin, looking at the strange item. Is gilgamesh a type of snake?

In the dim light streaming in from the windows, I can make out a glint along the edges of the box.

Leaning in closer, I can see a scripting on the wood. It is fairly complex, but I can tell that on every four sides it is repeated. The scripts are carved into the wood, black ink staining them. It must be important to warrant this kind of protection.

Wandering down the aisle, I spot the handle of a sword. Approaching it, I realize that the thing reaches up to my elbow. The sword is leaned up against a shelf, sheathed in a plain scabbard.

This thing is massive! It’s got to be a great sword.

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I try to life it, but even with my enhanced strength, it is difficult. My arms start shaking after a few seconds and I am forced to set the sword down and lean it back against the shelf.

Only someone with a Steel Body solely focused on strength could wield this thing!

I look at the tag tied to the hilt by a string. The Sword of Minsc.

Whoever this Minsc is, they must be an incredibly strong person. Erh, “was” would probably be more accurate.

Moving on from the sword, I look at several more books, but don’t find anything of interest. I grab one more book, this one with a few relatively detailed maps in it. The book is called; Lands & Cultures of Auren.

I get to the end of the aisle. A glint catches my eye.

Walking over to it, nestled into the back corner of a shelf is a orb. It rests on a dusty velvet pillow, and the sphere is about the size of my palm. It’s an aqua blue, and it looks like there are amorphous cerulean clouds, constantly shifting within their confines

Is that…? My mind flashes an image of the dark orb I got scammed for.

I pull the pillow and sphere out of the dark corner and look at it in the dim light. I flip a old tag over, reading what it says; The All Seeing Eye.

It looks similar to the orb I got from before. Only this time it is blue, and bigger.

I have the irresistible urge to pick it up. Reaching out with my right, black bandaged hand, I pick up the orb. The clouds inside seem to pick up pace, shifting faster and moving in a circle.

Bringing it closer to my face, I peer into it.

The dark clouds swirl together, forming a vortex. I can’t look away, my eyes riveted to it. Inside the center of the cyclone a blurry image starts to form.

I peer farther in, blue light coloring my face. Squinting, I can just make out the image. It quickly clears up, becoming less fuzzy.

I blink at what I see.

An army stands at attention, neatly ordered into groups. They number hundreds, maybe even a thousand. But the most striking thing is that they are not human.

They are all skeletons, looking much like Cereus. But they wear old, beaten armor. Their eye sockets burn with a unholy black flame, licking at their skulls.

The image shifts and I can see Cereus in his human form. He flies high above the army on some sort of bone construct, surveying his ranks. A black hooded figure sits behind him, their face obscured.

The view shifts again, this time showing me a mountain. A huge gash marrs it’s side, white lightning crackling across the pitch dark chasm. It seems trapped under a dark film, trying to break free.

As I watch, the lightning continues to spark. More and more violently. Then the membrane seemingly dissolves, white lightning bursting out with the roar of thunder. It arcs high into the sky, branching out. Bolts crack down on the ground around the gash, shaking, scorching and setting fire to the earth.

A few moments later a dark shape forms in the lightning. A massive scaled and clawed hand erupts from the gash, electricity sparking along it.

Then another hand appears, both digging huge furrows in the scorched earth.

My view shifts back to Cereus on the bone construct that I can’t see clearly. He curses, yelling over the wind to the figure at his back, “They brought a bloody Astral Dreadnought!”

The vision fuzzes again, distorting. Then I am looking at something else.

It is a city, but a strange one.

The buildings seem to be made of sandstone and wood. The full moon lights the streets, forming deep shadows in corners and allies. Hiding what does no wish to be seen.

The city stands on a giant, rocky plateau. A large wall ringing it’s length. Off the side of the plateau is an endless sea of sand, stretching far off into the distance.

The view shifts, moving down closer to the city. It stops above an alley, providing a clear view into it.

A figure is hunched over a person lying on the ground. The view shifts again, providing me with a better angle. I can now directly see the figure and the person it is hunched over.

The figure is covered in blood, crimson staining it’s beige robes. A deep, sinister red glows on the figure’s hands. It is a Katra Construct. The red katra forms long, knife like claws on the person’s fingers. The clawed hands are soaked in blood, rivulets dripping onto the stone brick ground.

The woman laying on the ground is clearly dead, a huge gash in her neck. Long lacerations and cuts mar their face and body, weeping blood.

The robed figure is hunched over the corpse, sucking up the blood pumping from the bodys neck.

The figure pauses from its feast. It looks up, straight at me.

Its face is hidden in the shadow of the nearby building, but I can make out the crimson dripping down its chin. Two, bright red eyes stare at me. They are the eyes of a predator.

The vision fuzzes again.

This time I am looking at a field, but this one is marred in dark blood. Armored corpses lay in mounds, blood leaking down from them like streams.

A dark, grey clouded sky shrouds everything in a dim light, no sun peaking through it.

My view shifts gain, this time showing me a particular mound. A lone man kneels at the top of the 10 body high hill. His helmet is battered and blood marred, and he stares at the ground listlessly. His arms hang limp at his sides, blood dripping from his gauntlets.

A gray pole with a spear head shaped point rests at his side, sitting in a pool of dark blood.

His armor is painted crimson with blood, it has clearly already started to crust.

The vision distorts for a second, then resituates itself.

The man shifts slightly, and slowly his head looks up at me. His face is concealed by a faceplate of steel, holes punched in it for breathing.

His irises peer out of the darkness of the helmet, glowing a dim gray.

There is a muffled voice, sounding hollow and defeated. “Don’t follow my Path.”

Then I am ripped from the vision, the orb torn out of my hand. I return to reality, my head spinning.

I look around me, my brain slowly coming back to the real world. It takes me a second to realize where I am.

My head jerks back as I see who tore me from the vision in my unfocused sight.

It is a bipedal fox, it’s arms wrapped in red, blue and purple cloth. In its hand it clutches the swirling ceruclean sphere. Gold and silver trinkets adorn its frame, giving it a almost royal look.

I blink and reality seems to reassert itself.

A man wearing a strange, black hat with a high top, holds the orb in his white gloved hand. He wears a expensive looking coat, twin coat tails forming off the back.

He grins at me with cold eyes, a straight, thin mustache and goatee adorning his face. He has sharp eyebrows, enhancing his angry grin. Long, black hair streams down to his shoulders from his hat.

I blink, focusing my eyes. “W-what?”

The man glares at me, “You saw something.”

I open my mouth to answer, but he interrupts me before I can say anything. “Don’t try and change it, or it’s more likely to happen.”

I take a step back, my instincts screaming at me to draw my dagger and defend myself. But I am still disorientated.

The man places the orb back on the pillow on the shelf, pushing it into the corner. Away from sight. He looks at me, “Get out, now.”

I stumble my way to the door, glancing back only once.

A image of the foxman is interposed over the man, a sinister smile curling along both their lips. I blink and it is only the strange man glaring at me.

I push my way through the door of Palmz Premier Purchases,  falling down in the alley outside the door.

I empty the contents of my stomach on the dirty paved stones, my head spinning. The bile burns my throat, and when I’m done, I shakily stand, wiping my mouth.

I stumble down the alley, trying to make sense of what just happened.