The magician must take the utmost care in performing a portal operation. The magician must purify themselves with at least two weeks of fasting, and must follow the correct order of distillations and alchemical transmutations. The portal operation requires the utmost concentration, as well as a mastery of alchemy, continuous practice in ceremonial magic, and a deep familiarity with the language of the Elder Gods and the inhabitants of their eldritch plane.

–Greater Archscholar Mellior Cruskin, The Verses III.9.ix

The alarming news echoed in Andy's head as he continued trodding the field path, overgrown from lack of consistent use. He followed Morwen and Verin, who had fallen silent hours earlier and hadn't spoken a word since.

Kermit had been singing, thinking aloud, and blurting out random observations the whole time, and Sven, Arlene, and Andy had been too busy laughing to talk about anything else.

PL didn't talk, not because he had nothing to say, but because he was a pig.

The sun had already sunk below the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched out little by little until, finally, they faded into twilight. Lightning bugs peppered the open fields, sending out their glowing signal in waves.

"Ah, there she is," said Verin, breaking his silence as the last sliver of blue disappeared from the sky. He gestured toward a building up ahead, the first Andy had seen since they left earlier that morning.

"And who will be stationed here?" Morwen asked. "I'd like to know what I'm walking into."

"Oh, come on," Verin said. "You're hired to protect, not worry about diplomacy. But if you must know, I have an old friend from the academy who works for the Noble Court, and he's often stationed here at this wilderness outpost."

"So he's a scholar?"

"Yes, indeed."

"So this is a scientific outpost?"

"Oh, hell if I know," said Verin. "I just stop there because it's noble-controlled and it makes for more comfortable lodging than a tent."

"Does the outpost have a name?"

"I doubt it beyond the number they've assigned it, which, mind you, I don't have the least clue about because I find that sort of thing boring."

"I see," said Morwen.

The group drew closer to the structure. It was very similar to the hut Lilly and Rowan had operated: a stone, cottage-looking building with extensive patio space. There were no spawning pools here, though.

A gruff voice shouted from an open window: "Aye, can I help you?"

"It's Verin," Verin called. "I'm here with my hired muscle, ready to lodge."

The window instantly popped shut, and there was the scattered clattering of what sounded like piles of pots and pans. Finally, a frail man burst out the front door.

"You can't stay here tonight!" the man said, a tinge of panic in his voice. "You… you didn't tell me you were comin' and so I have no availability for you."

"Come now, Natham, show a noble brother a bit of hospitality. We've been friends for years, practically decades!"

The man closed the door behind him and strode out onto the patio, snapping to activate some magical torches that burst into cozy flame.

Natham looked haggard and ill-kept. His fine scholars clothes were wrinkled and sweat beaded on his forehead.

"You look like shit," said Verin, extending his hand as he entered handshaking range.

Natham extended his hand and Verin grasped it, pulling Natham forward with an intensity that went beyond a simple greeting. Then Verin pushed path Natham quickly, and the scholar tripped into Andy.

Andy caught the man as he began turning around, reaching toward Verin. He was emaciated and soaked with sweat, and he reeked.

"No!" Natham called, "You mustn't."

"Let's see what we're working with tonight," said Verin as he opened the front door.

"Wait!" cried Natham, scrambling out of Andy's arms and lunging — if you could call it that — toward Verin.

Verin opened the door despite the scholar's protests.

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As Verin opened the door, several metal instruments clanged around.

"Oh dear," said Verin. "What ever are you up to?"

"Please," said Natham. "I'm working on an important and very delicate operation. You've come at literally the worst time. Truly. I'm sorry, but I need uninterrupted concentration or else…"

"Or else what?" Verin asked.

"Or else the last three weeks have been for nothing!" said Natham, his voice cracking as he began to sob in hysterical delirium.

There was a silent pause. Morwen stood stone-faced. Kermit, too, was quiet, probably because Sven had clued him in that now was not the time for talking. Arlene looked worried, but said nothing.

"What have you been working on?" Andy asked.

"A very important, very delicate, very powerful operation. An ancient spell that hasn't been attempted in a long time..."

"Well, when you put it that way," said Verin, closing the door and rejoining the group.

"I'm truly sorry," said Natham. "I wish I could, but I need to attend to the operation."

The skepticism vanished from Verin's eyes as he looked upon Natham. "Very well, very well," said Verin.

"Thank you," said Natham, weeping. "Thank you, thank you…" the scholar lumbered over to the door, cracking it open. "I am truly sorry, I wish we could've met under more auspicious circumstances."

"Don't sweat it," said Morwen.

Natham waved as he closed the door. The patio torches were all snuffed out at once.

"That was bizarre," said Andy.

Verin was scanning the horizon. "Natham is a good scholar," he said, "and he is a good man. If he truly can't host us, then I have to believe him."

That's a pretty empathetic response coming from a noble, Andy thought. Maybe Verin isn't the same as the rest of the egomaniacal ruling class…

"Well, I suppose we'll find a place to camp just over the horizon. I don't want to remain within sight of the outpost if Natham needs complete isolation... dear I sure hope he's alright."

"Very well," said Morwen.

"We're going further?" Kermit said.

"Not too far," said Arlene, reassuring him.

"Just over this hill," said Morwen. "The weather's nice enough that we should be able to camp under the stars just fine. We'll take shifts on the nightwatch and ensure that there are no surprises."

"Camping!" Kermit said.

The group departed from the stone cottage's patio, continuing on their journey, the outpost behind them.

Then Andy heard the loudest sound he had ever heard in his life. A massive boom resonated through his chest from behind him and blew him forward. A blinding light flared as an explosion blew all the glass out of the cottage windows.

"What the fuck‽" Morwen shouted, instinctively raising an arm over her face.

Andy's world began to spin and his ears rang. Little shards of glass sprinkled him as he turned around to face the cottage. The stone structure was largely undamaged, but the windows had all been shattered, and lots of debris and detritus had been expelled from them.

Blue flame danced in the windows.

"Natham!" Verin cried, heading toward the door.

"Wait!" said Morwen, drawing her sword. "I will come with you." She spun around and looked at Andy. "You come with me," she said.

Despite the shock and trauma of the blast, Andy felt the now-familiar thrill, the addictive thrill, of rushing into an unknown situation armed with a greatsword.

Then Morwen pointed to Arlene. "Arlene, keep the other two out of harm's way."

Arlene nodded. She notched an arrow and stood at the ready.

Andy followed closely behind Morwen. He drew his greatsword, feeling the weight of its power as he brought it into a defensive position.

The front door had been somehow undamaged. Morwen opened it and began hacking and coughing as black smoke billowed out.

"Careful," said Verin, "you don't know what he was working with. Could be poisonous."

Morwen backed away. "You're right," she said.

"I doubt Natham survived," Verin said, his face screwing up in grief as tears began forming in his eyes. "Goddamn me. Why did I have to intrude on him."

"We don't know yet," said Morwen. "Natham!" she called. "Natham! Natham are you there‽"

Andy began circling the perimeter, looking through each of the windows, trying to find any sign of the scholar.

"Natham!" Andy called, echoing the calls of the other two. He made sure, in all caution, to keep his greatsword brandished.

"I'm here," came a voice from inside. It was weak, but audible.

"Natham?" Andy called again. "Natham, are you hurt?" The question seemed almost silly.

No reply.

"Guys!" Andy called to Morwen and Verin, both a few paces away. "I heard him."

"You… you heard him‽" Verin cried, running toward Andy. "Natham!" he cried. "Natham!"

Morwen tailed Verin, sheathing her katana."Where did you hear it?" She asked as she approached.

Andy pointed toward the window he had heard the voice. It was blown out and smoking, just like all the others.

Morwen peered in.

"I don't see..."

The smoke began to oscillate as a form emerged ever so slowly.

"There he is," said Verin. "Oh, god, he's alive! Natham!"

The form continued to emerge as the smoke separated, but it was not Natham.

A large, diseased, eldritch tentacle emerged, probing its way out into the open air like a snake in search of prey.

"Oh god," said Morwen, shaking as she drew her katana.