The fields that surrounded Twinwater were home to all sorts of creatures, but the small woods that surrounded the old ruins towards which the 4 of them now headed was oddly quiet. No birds flew above them, no deer darted amongst the trees, not a single rabbit or squirrel could be seen. It was almost as if all the creatures in the area simply knew better than to get so close to the place - and Jubel couldn’t blame them. He felt a strange tingle on his skin that grew stronger the further into the woods he went, and the sole visible pillar peeking out above the treeline gleamed faintly in the mid-afternoon sun.
The ruins were composed primarily of a series of pillars, walls and stone walkways - all of which ranged from worn down to outright collapsed, and all made of the same smooth gray stones. The stones seemed completely uniform, and had an almost polished look to them. Several were engraved with runes that should have produced some sort of magical effect, but all of them lay dormant, either damaged or drained of power by the passage of time. It looked as if there had once been four massive columns standing at the four corners of the ruins, perhaps supporting some massive, long since shattered structure, but only a single, cracked column remained standing.
Indeed, the rest of the ruins were also, as the name might suggest, ruined. There was only a single undamaged building amongst the half collapsed walls and fallen pillars - a small dome made of the same strangely smooth stones as everything else in the ruins, standing amidst a circle formed by five ornately carved pillars.
The columns each seemed to have a unique motif - one half collapsed pillar had a variety of rodents intricately carved all across its surface, while another showed a huge cat of some sort with its jaws clamping down on the throat of a deer. A third pillar had been so badly damaged that it was impossible to tell what exactly it was supposed to have shown, but the fourth and fifth showed a sleeping bear and a howling wolf respectively. The artwork was so detailed that Lucas thought he could actually make out individual hairs on the howling wolf, and the moon at which it howled was polished to such an extent that it nearly glowed!
It was awe inspiring - or would’ve been if the four of them hadn’t been in such a hurry. As it was, Lucas seemed to be the only one to notice the various carvings as they walked into the dome through the large rectangular hole that served as its doorway.
Inside was a stairwell made of that same smooth stone. Though torches lined the walls, they had long since been extinguished, and the long, winding passage was shrouded in darkness. They took their descent slowly, constantly scanning the stairway for any sign of a trap. Or at least, Vivi and Damaia did. They , like most elves and felblood, were unimpeded by the lack of light as they slowly strayed further and further from the surface. Lucas and Jubel simply suffered in silence until a misstep caused the half elf to tumble face first into the taller man.
“I don’t suppose we could get a bit of light?” the muscular mercenary asked dryly.
Damaia and Vivi both stopped for a moment, the felblood searching through her pack. The sudden bright light revealed a slight flush to her cheeks as she handed Lucas a strange glowing device that looked like a thick metal rod with a sphere on top. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I totally forgot that you guys couldn’t see in the dark.”
“It’s no problem,” Jubel insisted. “I’m used to it. My family never even bothered to buy torches or candles. They figured if they needed light, they’d either wait for sunrise or cast a spell.”
That drew a scowl out of Lucas. “If you can cast a light spell, why didn’t you?” He growled softly.
“I said they could cast light,” Jubel corrected just as softly. “I couldn’t. Still can’t, in fact. My magic seems pretty insistent on sticking to a theme.”
“Wait,” Vivi said incredulously, “they could all cast light, but not one of them taught you? Or bothered to at least buy you some candles? How were you supposed to see at night?!”
“I wasn’t,” he replied evenly.
Lucas shushed them, cocking his head to one side as the party neared the bottom of the stairs. “Story time later. We have company ahead. I can hear… at least 3. Let me get up front - I’m the only one with decent armor, and I’m probably the sturdiest person here.”
Nobody could think of a good objection - not that the mercenary waited for them to try. He simply walked forward, hand tightening around the torch. "Stay alert,” he said so quietly that the others could barely even hear him. “If there really are Orcs down here, we need to be ready for a fight.”
Damaia scowled. “We should see if they’re as reasonable as Urhaz was,” she shot back. “Better to talk our way through this than to fight!”
“You’ve got a point, D,” Vivi said slowly, “but if they’ve hurt Minerva…” she shook her head and tightened her grip on the hilt of her rapier. Damaia gave her a piercing look, scowling, but said nothing. She didn’t need to - she’d made her opinion on excessive violence clear. “I’ll try to stay calm,” the elf allowed with a scowl of her own.
The felblood must’ve decided that was the best she was going to get out her friend, because she silently turned back towards Lucas, who’d already reached the bottom of the stairs.
“No lights,” He said quietly as he surveyed the room at the foot of the stairs. There was what looked like an abandoned firepit near the empty doorway, and several empty tents as well. “No Orcs, either, but I think it’s safe to say they were here.”
Just because we don’t see them, doesn’t mean they aren’t here. He wasn’t sure if the others understood his unspoken message, but he pressed on regardless
Lucas had fought orcs a few times during his time as a soldier in Grondyl, and had experienced firsthand the sort of tactics they tended to use. If these orcs were anything like the one’s he’d fought, there were almost certainly stragglers or scouts lurking about this ‘abandoned’ campsite, waiting to raise the alarm when they saw a potential threat. If they weren’t…
Lucas scanned the room again, wishing desperately that he had natural night vision like the girls behind him. He hated surprises, and not being able to see more than a couple dozen feet away was messing with his head. His instincts kept telling him to stay quiet, move slowly, put out the light - but it was pointless. Orcs, too, could see perfectly in near total darkness, so while the strange torch Damaia had made might attract attention, it was strictly necessary. Besides which, they couldn’t slow down. Not now.
That’s when he saw it, out of the corner of his eye. A flicker of movement, just behind them, where the dim light faded into total darkness. Before he could even turn to face it, an orc emerged from the shadows, charging towards him. The muscular, green skinned man slammed into him shoulder first, pushing him back a step with a savage, guttural growl. The impact nearly knocked him from his feet, but Lucas was a trained soldier. Instinct kicked in, and Lucas lashed out with a clenched fist, driving the orc back. He couldn’t wield his glaive in one hand, but he couldn’t fight blind either! A voice in the back of his mind - one that sounded a great deal like his first commander, who’d died nearly seven years ago - laughed at him for not passing the magical torch to Jubel or Vivi, who didn’t need both hands to use their weapons. He silently told the old bastard to shut the fuck up and lunged for the orc’s throat.
He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he tore the battered iron helmet off his foe’s head, never noticing how it bent in his grasp. He threw it behind him, ducking under the swing of the raging, leather clad orc’s axe, only to deliver an open palmed strike to their chin. Something caught and tore beneath his hooked fingers, but the mercenary was too far gone to recognize the spray of blood for what it was. How close was it to sunset? Surely, not long. An hour or two at best. The ruins were too deep, too far from town. He wasn’t going to make it. The blood pounding in his veins demanded that he keep pushing, keep trying, but behind the desperate fury he could feel something else slowly stirring. Something darker. Something… hungry.
Not yet.I can still make it.
He reeled back as his opponent, still clutching at his torn throat, lashed out with a desperate hook, slamming into his jaw. The force of it pushed him, but Lucas felt no pain.
Is ThAt AlL?
He surged forwards, striking the metal end of the peculiar torch against his enemy’s temple befores sweeping their legs out from under them with surprising speed and grace for a man his size. He slammed one heavy, booted foot onto the orcs face once, then twice then-
Stop. STOP! No. Not now. The chains, where are - No. They broke in the Bleakwood. Damn it all. Open your mouth, you idiot! Tell them! Warn them! Get them to RUN!
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But he couldn’t. He felt the bones in his right arm tremble as they slowly warped and saw his fingernails extend into deadly claws. He lost track of time as he tore through armor and flesh alike, tearing the pathetic orc to pieces -
Then a firm hand clapped him on the shoulder. Lucas fought back a growl as he turned, his now golden eyes locking on the sky blue eyes of a young half elf.
“Easy there,” Jubel said with a smile, not a trace of fear in his gaze. “We’re almost done here. You won, see?” He gestured at the remains of the orc, now little more than a bloody mess on the stones. “There were only two of them here. You left quite the impression on our would be assailant here, and he’s seen the error of his ways.”
A fearful looking orc stood between Damaia and Vivi, his axe on the ground and his hands held above his head.
He forced the savage, beastial thing surging in his blood to bow to his will, and with every ounce of strength he had, he stilled his trembling fists.
“We should ask what he knows,” he rasped out.
“Way ahead of you,” Damaia said, stubbornly refusing to look towards the dead orc. He thought one of her hands was trembling, but it might have just been his imagination, because it stopped almost as soon as he noticed it. “He knows of a few traps between here and the main camp, and he confirmed that he and his friend here caught an elf and a small hawkbear recently. Apparently they were told to look out for a group of 4 dangerous people, including a human man and an elf girl, and capture them by any means necessary.”
Lucas nodded shakily, slowly flexing his right hand. His eyes still gleamed gold, but his breathing had slowed, returning to a more normal pace, and his blood no longer writhed and surged in his veins, demanding violence.
He was almost out of time, though. Another fight would almost certainly push him too far. If he didn’t find the spring the Watcher had mentioned soon -
“Does he know of any water source down here?” He managed to get out.
“Water from the pool?” The orc asked nervously, cocking his head to one side. “The glowing water?”
“Sounds about right,” the mercenary replied. “Can you lead us there?”
“Lucas we don’t have time to-” Vivi began, but he cut her off.
“We need to make time, Vivi,” he said firmly. “This little encounter should be proof enough that we won't be receiving a warm welcome. We need to be ready for a fight, and right now I’m not.”
The elf scowled. “Lives are at stake here!”
Lucas nodded his agreement. “Ours amongst them. Which is exactly why I have to reach that fountain as quickly as possible.”
“What aren’t you saying?” Vivi asked softly, her scowl fading into a concerned frown.
“It’s best if you don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” Jubel said immediately. “Look, everyone’s entitled to their own secrets, but if you expect us to risk someone’s life over this, you owe us a fucking explanation!” The sudden heat in the normally cheerful half elf’s voice caught them all off guard, but only for a moment.
“He’s not wrong,” Damaia said softly. “We trust you, Lucas, but you’re asking a lot and explaining nothing. It’s selfish, frustrating and a waste of time.” In spite of himself, Lucas winced. The mixture of irritation and disappointment in the engineer’s gaze bothered him far more than he’d expected. Still, he said nothing. Disappointment was still better than abject terror.
Vivi sighed. “You can’t expect us to blindly follow what you say, Lucas. Give us something to go off of, a proper reason to risk someone’s life over this!”
Lucas hesitated for a moment before nodding. “You saw what just happened in that last fight? That can happen again. And next time, I might not be able to snap out of it. The water here is supposed to help me, to give me control over that…state. But If I don’t get there by nightfall, it’ll be too late.”
That was already more than he’d wanted to say. It may have been pointless to hide his condition, especially since the spring might well reveal it anyway, but still…
“Good enough,” Jubel said with a shrug, his usual smile firmly back in place. The others nodded their approval, Vivi turning to face the still terrified orc.
“Show us the way past the traps, and lead us to the fountain. As long as you don’t try to attack us, we won’t hurt you, and once we get Minerva back we’ll return your weapon. Deal?”
The orc slowly nodded. “Deal,” he said in a raspy voice.
The first two traps were simple pitfall traps, which were easily avoided by simply going over the weakened floor one by one. Apparently, the orcs had covered the traps with more of the uniform gray stone that everything in the ruins seemed to be made of, making them difficult to spot, but had to reinforce the structure of the pit itself to support extra weight in the process. “One orc can cross at a time,” the orc said sagely, “but not while carrying too much. We learned that when the girl showed up. We could walk over by ourselves, and she could walk with the cub, but when Chief Zil tried to carry her across, they fell in. It was very funny - until the Chief threw a spear at Gor for laughing.”
Gor was, apparently, the dead orc’s name. Kol, their guide, had known him for a very long time, but insisted that he held no grudge towards them. “Gor was stupid, rude, and loud,” he said with a smile. “We didn’t get along well. The two of us look alike, so Chief Zil had us scout together. That way, he could just shout both our names and didn’t have to remember which of us was which.” He scowled. “Will you tear up Chief Zil like you did Gor?” he asked, glancing back at Lucas curiously.
“If he gives me a reason to,” the mercenary replied honestly. “I’d prefer to avoid it, of course, but we won't be leaving without our friend. In fact, we’re supposed to convince your tribe to move somewhere else, so that the villagers can use this place as a mine. Is Zil a reasonable person?”
Kol laughed darkly. “No,” he added after a moment, just in case they hadn’t gotten his point.
The scrape of steel on stone and the squeak of rusty hinges announced the presence of the third trap long before they actually saw it. The swinging guillotine-like blades were scattered across a narrow corridor that was, as near as they could tell, the only way forward.
“I need to go first,” Kol said with a frown. “There’s a lever on the other side to shut this off. It isn’t usually on though…” He seemed troubled.
Jubel didn’t trust that for a second. Pulling on the invisible threads of power that he could feel whenever he cast magic, he prepared himself for the worst and gave the orc a cheerful smile. “Go for it!” he said, gesturing towards the swinging blades. “Be careful though. Those blades look pretty sharp, and my aim’s definitely not good enough to pass you a healing potion through them if you get hurt.”
The orc swallowed hard and narrowed his red eyes as he slowly approached the trap. He stood stock still for about thirty seconds, swinging one arm back and forth in time with the blades as he presumably memorized the timing. Then, he surged forwards, pausing only briefly to let one massive blade pass mere inches in front of his face. He practically danced through the trap, his face a picture of concentration as he pushed forwards. Near the end, he stumbled, and one of his leather clad shoulders was clipped by the final blade, but he pushed through, tumbling to the ground. For a moment, Kol simply lay still, breathing heavily.
Then, he rose to his feet, patting himself all over and wincing as he twisted his wounded shoulder. He reached out towards something the others couldn’t see from where they stood, and with a small click, the blades stopped moving.
Slowly, carefully, they followed after the wounded orc, suspiciously eyeing the walls around them.
That’s probably why they failed to notice the pressure plate until Lucas had already stepped on it.
The blades whirled by them, narrowly missing each of them as they cried out in surprise. Lucas caught the steel pole from which one blade hung with both hands and pulled, bending the metal to the point where the trap’s own mechanism finished the work for him. Having cleared a small safe space he turned to the others -
Only to find that the blades had stopped once more. “Sorry,” Kol said, sounding sheepish as he deactivated the trap once more. “I forgot about the pressure plate.”
Lucas didn’t believe that for one second, and opened his mouth to say as much, but Damaia interrupted him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine,” she said brightly. “Nobody got hurt, and we’ll be more careful from now on, just in case you forget anything else.”
It would’ve sounded threatening coming from anyone else, but the young felblood seemed sincerely concerned, and any fear she might’ve inspired vanished as she paused to rub an ointment on Kol’s wound. The faintly glowing gel shimmered and vanished after a moment, leaving behind fresh, unblemished skin. When she realized the looks of astonishment that had earned her, the engineer shrugged. “I prefer to work with machines,” she said, “but I’m good with alchemy too. This isn’t quite as strong as a proper healing potion, but for a small cut like that, it works pretty well!”
The newly healed orc gave her an appraising look. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Now, let’s keep moving. The spring is on the right side of the next big room, just another minute or two from here.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “There will probably be other orcs in the room, but don’t worry. I can talk with them for you.” Lucas couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Kol hadn’t been planning to ‘forget’ to tell them about the other orcs. He tried to push down that paranoid skepticism, to have faith in their guide - but a nagging voice in the back of his head kept telling him to watch his back.
“Sure!” Damaia said cheerfully. “Lead the way!”
Just as the orc had indicated, there were no further traps barring their way as they went from corridor to corridor, passing through small rooms full of barrels, hanging dried meats, and treated animal pelts. The room Kol mentioned was less a ruin and more a slightly modified cave. The floor was the same smooth gray stone as everything else, but the roof, apart from one small section, was entirely natural. Stalactites covered the roof of the cavern, and massive pillars towered over the adventurers. They seemed identical to those Lucas had noted outside, save that each of the pillars had a stone throne at its base with a matching design. At the centerpoint between the pillars, a pool of water glowed with a faint blue-white light, shimmering and rippling rhythmically. A small, polished white crystal stood in the center of the pool, a faint light pulsing within it in perfect sync with the ripples that spread throughout the pool. Something within the water called to Lucas. This was it. This must be it.
The orc held up a hand as he stepped towards the pool. “Wait. Something is not right. Who is there?! Where are the guards usually in this room?!”
A familiar rhythmic sound filled the air as a man stepped out from behind the farthest pillar. He wore a suit of armor that covered his whole body, formed of overlapping black metal plates with bits and pieces of leather showing through the gaps, and his face was concealed by a peculiar black steel helm. Thin, wispy strands of darkness clung to his long black cape as he walked towards them, slowly clapping.
“I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to sense me! I’m impressed.” His voice seemed oddly distorted, as if it had come through a radio, rather than merely echoing within a steel helm.
“To answer your questions,I have several names, but when I’m on a job, most folks simply call me Shadow Knight. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Oh, and the guards you mentioned are all dead. Sorry."