I tuck my dead phone into my pocket.

“We need to head back, my phone is dead.”

“What the fuck just happened?”

Cleric asks.

“I could feel it,”

Rogue says.

“With my money sense. It’s a gold mine, isn't it?”

“Like a goblin gave you a rock, and underneath the grime it’s a hunk of adamantium.”

Rogue whistles.

“That much?”

“If it works out with even a tenth of the efficiency I hope it will, living comfortably for the rest of your life will be forever.”

“I’m still really fucking confused.”

Cleric says. I take a breath.

“So on my world- plane. We essentially use these invisible waves in the air. We can talk to each other from 1000 of miles away, and look up any information from anywhere with them.”

I raise my phone into the air.

“This device can access all of that knowledge. It however has a charge, so right now it won’t function.”

I scratch the stubble on my face. This could be troublesome. I probably have about 30 feet of space to work with before I lose connection. I’ll have to talk to Waylax about this, grease his palm over a little. I have access to plenty of recipes now, just probably not all the ingredients. I might have to ask him to move, or atleast bare with us as we tunnel through the base of the mountain.

“I’ll need some help from you guys. First things first, how are roads? Are they well maintained? Are they dirt, or cobbles? Do they often pool with water?”

I ask them.

“Why roads?”

Fighter asks.

“If you have access to more technologies, couldn’t we use them to improve agriculture, communication, or metallurgy? Let alone that we could use advanced technologies to broker deals between various allied states, and those we are at odds with. Cementing ourselves as a superpower.”

Everyone turns to look at Fighter. Where the fuck did that come from.

“Um, uh. Well we need to begin improving infrastructure first. Then we can start improving, and developing newer technologies. Roads are the first step in that. The ability to move troops, goods, and people quickly and safely is key. But we are wasting time here. Let’s head to the surface, and out of this cave.”

We collect ourselves, have a short snack and then head back up to the surface. Rogue used a piece if chalk he carried to mark the wall, so we could return easily. Waylax cleared out that rotten egg smell which I’m grateful for. When we get back to Waylax’s main dwelling he is gone along with his stuff, my computer and Eldra. On the floor is a scrap of paper.

Hey Bitch, it’s Eldra. Waylax can’t write with his big meaty claws so I am instead. He decided that he’s been stuck in his cave to long, and is missing out on all the new flavors and foods mortals have developed. He left a sending stone in case you need to contact him. He’s probably gonna find a new lair near some other city, somewhere more habited, so he has access to different foods.

P.S. He also didn’t want you bothering him all the time.

P.P.S. also now you don’t have to worry about people thinking he is dead.

Underneath the letter was a smooth flat stone, one side has an ear carved into it the other has a mouth. I tuck it into my pocket.

“Welp we don’t have to worry about Waylax anymore. The cave should remain relatively undisturbed for now. In time we will return.”

I lead the party out of the cave, and onto the mountain side. The rain has stopped leaving a rainbow hanging in the afternoon sky. The dark heavy clouds slowly move along, perpendicular to our path. We make sure to be careful on the slow walk down the mountain path.

The forest is alive with animals. A small group of deer pass in front of our party. Bounding off when they notice us. Small droplets of water fall from the tree branches as we walk along. The walk is much faster than the previous days, and although we left during the afternoon, we make good time.

We must’ve missed the shrine, because I can’t find it anywhere. I wanted to rest up near it again for the night, but that doesn’t seem like it’s happening. We settle down on the wet ground, laying a sheet of canvas down to sleep on. The sky is clear and there is almost no wind so we don’t hang anything above us. Our tents keep out the bugs, even if they are a bit cramped.

“Hey what season is it anyway? Summer, Winter, Spring, Fall, Rainy, Dry?”

I ask the party.

“Fall,”

Wizard says.

“Winters are milder, here than in the north. And the dragon eye’s grow even in harsh cold.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I nod. With the dragon eyes food doesn’t look like much of a problem. Variety however would be nice, even if it’s the way that they are prepared. Salted dragon eye slices baked into chips, dragon eyes covered in sugar, pickled dragon eyes, fried, deep fried, sauteed, etc. A true superfood, or would it be supernatural food? I cut some slices of dragon eyes and eat them as I sit and think. Cleric shudders,

“How can you eat those plain? It’s like eating nothing.”

I smile taking a large bite out of the fruit.

“Where I’m from people eat fried crickets, fermented cabbage, live squids, cow tongues, and cereal without milk. Most of these are quite good, except the cereal people, they can rot.”

I reply. I get an odd look, but no response. The sun paints the sky vibrant hues of red and orange, as it sets. I close my eyes and listen to the crackling fire, and the sounds of nature as the moon rises.

Fighter shakes me gently.

“Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey.”

Followed by more shakes. He lets out a yawn.

“Your watch.”

He whispers. When I’m up he stumbles over to his bedroll, and trips on a branch. He lands at an odd angle on his bed, only his stomach actually on it, but a heavy snore tells me he doesn’t care. I stoke the fire, and add a few leafless branches, and a handful of pine needles. The pine needles drive off any flies, which still buzz around despite the cool weather. I don my apron once again, since it at least has pockets to carry knives around. I walk around the camp, and catch the glint of bells in the tree line. They are reflecting the fire, and moonlight. Hopefully we can get something made that lacks that metallic luster. Cold iron perhaps, maybe with little spikes to turn them into a makeshift flail. I check each of the traps, and decide they did a well enough job.

I have the sudden urge to use the bathroom and walk some distance into woods to relieve myself. I hang my apron on a branch beside me and drop my pants. The gentle sound of splashing liquid drowning out noises of the forest. I hear the sound of some rustling, and then some whimpering cries. It’s maybe 50 more feet into the woods.

This is some spooky shit, and I finish up. I pull a chef's knife from my apron, and walk about half the distance to the noise.

“Hello, I would appreciate if you would make yourself known, or fuck off.”

I call out quietly into the woods. I hear some more sobbing from a small cluster of bushes. I walk about five feet closer.

“p-please…”

I hear a voice call out. This is suspect as fuck.

“I’m just going to get my friends and then come back.”

I say.

“n-no, help…”

The voice says. Definitely suspect I know an ambush encounter when I see one.

“Okay, I’ll help I say.”

I take off sprinting in the opposite direction, back towards camp. I hear snarling.

“Shit!”

I hear from about 15 feet to my left. Branches break as whatever the fuck is in the woods starts chasing after me.

“WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKERS, SOME SPOOKY SHIT IS AFTER US!”

I shout at the top of my lungs. I’m about 15 feet from camp when I get tackled to the ground. Something bites me and latches onto my leg. I go sprawling. I flip over it’s a fucking worg. 3 feet tall, 300 pounds and about the average intelligence of a goblin. These wolf looking mother fuckers can speak, and pull shit like this. Lure you into thinking someone need help, then bam jaws around your throat.

“ARE YOU SHITTING ME!”

I shout. Another worg lopes out of the woods from the direction of the voice. It pounces on my leg, but I move out of the way, and it only grazes me. I take the opportunity to stab him in the shoulder. Giving the wolf creature a nice slice across the shoulder. The worgs hide is tough though, and the flesh is not so easily cut. I hear some noise from the camp, but no one comes rushing out to help. The first worg, bites down on my leg again frenzied by the taste of blood.

The second worg decides to go after my arm that is wielding the knife, I twist out of the way however. He still finds purchase on my elbow. My knife trades hands and I ram the knife into the ear of the one going after my arm. It howls in pain, and lets go of my arm. It stumbles backwards, and growls at me. I hear a shout, and the sounds of a fight starting from the camp. Fan-fucking-tastic.

The wolf on my leg goes for another bite, but I lift my leg up and kick it lightly in the mouth. Not hurting it but I don’t take any damage either. The one I stabbed in the ear rakes a claw across my stomach, turning my flesh to ribbons. I cry out in pain.

“COULD. REALLY. USE. SOME. HELP. GUYS.”

I push off the worgs body, and shimmy backwards. Lashing out with a kick towards the farthest one. He snarls and tries to bite me, but can’t get a good angle. I hear Cleric call out my name. A snowball comes rocketing from the camp, and hits the injured worg in the side of the head. It staggers back and forth snow covering its face. The snow melts revealing a dent in the side of it’s head. It collapses unmoving.

“Nice!”

I cheer on the victory then spit up some blood. The skin on my stomach is open, and my intestines are poking through. I hear another shout. And the worg is upon me again. It bites deep into my thigh, and blood gushes from the wound. I let out another pained shout. I hope it didn’t hit an artery. I kick it away again, and back up further from it. It snarls, and bites towards my leg again. It misses however. I hear fighter let out a yell, and then a whining howl. Footsteps rush up behind me, and Cleric crouches down behind me.

“It’s alright I’m here everything is going to be fine.”

She says, although I think that is more for her benefit than mine. Another snowball flys from the camp. It hits the worg snapping at my heels with a large thud. Causing it to howl, and snarl.

“KILL KILL KIIIIIIIIILLL"

It shouts in a deep gravelly voice. It howls causing the remaining worgs to howl as well. It clamps down on my foot, shakes it’s head back and forth violently. This further aggravates my wounded leg. With my other leg, I kick it in the side of the head. It snarls, and drops my foot. Using it’s long sharp claws to rake my healthy leg. Only doing superficial damage though.

“CLERIC,”

I shout waking her out of her frantic stupor.

“Hit the worg very hard, then heal me.”

She nods her head.

“Hit the worg, just hit the worg, hit it yup.”

Cleric fumbles for her mace, and stumbles towards the worg. Glancing back at me like I’d die at any moment. Which wasn’t far from the truth. She raises the mace, and brings it down towards the worg. It dodges nimbly out of the way, and snarls at her. It’s mouth dripping saliva and blood. I see a bolt of light dart between the trees and move around cover. It sounds like an arrow mid flight, then strikes the worgs flank. Boring a hole into its ribs. The worg stagger back and forth confused, before falling sideways. Cleric rushes over to me, and kneels down. Tears are in the corner of her eyes, and she lets out a choking noise.

“You are crying into the wound.”

I say but get no response. I raise my arm and slap her across the face.

“Heal me you little shit.”

She looks at me shocked.

“If I fucking die because you didn’t heal me, I’ll drag my ass out of fucking hell, give Death the finger, and haunt you until the end of time.”

That seems to wake her up.

“Mother mercy, heal your wounded flock and shepherd them into comfort.”

Cleric recites her prayer, one hand clasped around the holy symbol on her necklace. Her free hand glows with golden light, and my intestines pull themselves back into my stomach, the skin knits back together. My flesh feels like it’s on fire. Like bees are stinging my nerves directly. I let out a scream of pain, and then black out.