This is a 17 mini-chapter story about Chance and his ordeal in the Fires of Ardor. Written by the DMaster, assisted by T.Blair.
Chapter 1 – Follow Your Nose
Talia is looking at the one side of the bridge. She looks down one side of the river bank to the other. She squats, grabs some of the odd colored dirt and rubs it in her hands. She takes a deep breath. Traces a symbol in the dirt, then places both hands down. Her eyes go white then her arms flash a weird yellow hue and her head snaps up.
“Whoa, that was weird,” she says, standing up and wringing her hands from the dirt. “Lots of things living around here, but nothing too big that I can tell, and definitely no sludge mounds.”
Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. They hunker down the bank, everyone kind of gears up for a quick rest. They are next to the bridge blocking them for a good portion of view.
Chance glances at Volca who is a bit away from the group, and has a scowl on her face. The Champion sighs and walks to her.
“Sorry about before, just got lost in the heat of battle, didn’t realize… you know,” The Champion says trying to make eye contact with her and apologize.
She nods her head then glances at him from the corner of her eye, “I am not liking this… not one bit,” she says taking a labored breath, glancing back over to the bridge, river and the other bank. Her wounds obvious from a distance.
“Me either,” Chance starts then gets interrupted.
“No, Champ, what were these three giant things doing here? They were not guarding it, hell one was snoozing under the bridge,” the Odius finishes with a bit of force.
Inasatra comes over and stands next to Chance looking at the Odius, hearing the conversation.
“What do you want now, elf!?” Volca says annoyed by the attention.
The Eldergleen elf snaps a bit, “I am willing to bet these are children, young inexperienced trolls or giants. Their fighting style was not refined, they did not work together at all and like you said, it seemed like they were just wandering about having fun.”
Chances eyes bulge and worry washes over him like a downpour in summer. If inexperienced young giants almost took out half my group… what could adult ones do? – He thinks to himself.
“Inasatra,” the Quarter-elf says, glancing over to the Eldergleen, “can you scout ahead the best you can, see if you can’t get eyes on the doors or anything close? Stay hidden.”
She nods and without hesitation, heads off the bank and across the bridge.
“If she gets caught, we are really screwed,” Volca says in between coughs.
After a long moment, “we are screwed either way, if there are ‘parents’ of these things that almost killed us, how could we possibly think we could take them on. You asked a simple question and they went ballistic. If they find out their kids…”
The Odius’s eyes bulge for a half second and she snorts, “we ded,” is all she says.
The little creature rubs her shoulders and heads over to the bank to lay down.
Sincere, Demi and Talia make their way over to the area, start to try and relax for a bit.
“Luella is going to keep an eye out for us. She is hiding behind the other side of the bridge,” Sincere says, as he is laying on the bank, taking a swig of his skin, frowning at it.
After what seems like days, but about an hour, Inasatra gets back and pulls Chance away from the group.
“I am guessing it is not good news,” the Quarter Elf says, frowning.
She nods, “replica’s of what we just fought here, at the doors. These giants are bigger and taller than that. They look almost identical to the ones sinking in the river, just… well, bigger. There are some other humanoids, things there but I can’t see that far to tell you what they are. Those doors have to be heavy thick metal, reinforced and a good 15-16 feet in height. Did not get close enough to see if there was a handle or anything.”
Chance is mulling things over, still allowing his people to rest for a short time. He gets Inasatra’s attention, who is keeping an eye out and getting antsy.
“I was thinking we need to pull the giants away from the door,” he says matter of fact, giving the elf a look.
She squints her eyes, and slowly shakes her head. “To what end? It was hard for me to see but there are other people, things, humanoids there. Even if we could, how do we open 15 foot heavy metal doors?”
Sighing loudly, Chance turns a bit to look over the vast under earth plains. “We have to do something, something that will get us in those doors.”
Inasatra responds quickly, “If we fight, I doubt we survive, and even if we do they will have people, creatures or worse yet more giants backing them up, we have to expect reinforcements. Plus we don’t know how the doors open and we would still have to make it through another set of doors inside that… and to pile on, we would have to deal with whatever is in between.”
“So what do you suggest?” the quarter elf says, having a bad feeling wash over him, knowing this could be the wall they can’t get over.
She glances over to Volca who is making her way over seeing them conversing. The two of them fill in the Odius and she is also in deep thought.
“Fight, sneak or talk our way through,” Volca says shrugging her shoulders, “as impossible as any of them sound. Maybe there is an alternative way in?”
Inasatra nods and looks to Chance. “Well, you know what I think about a fight, sneaking would be near impossible with the activity there, plus yet again how do you open doors three times your height? Talking? Well that could get us killed too.”
After a long minute, Chance looks up, “talking it is, at least there is some kind of Chance to make it through. Fighting, we are dead, sneaking… like you pointed out doesn’t make sense with the huge doors and we would never get a chance to open them. Looking for an alternative way in could take days, hell, weeks, no pun intended.”
The three of them all look around to each other when a quickling runs into Chance.
“Hey! Really?” the Champion glances down scowl on his face as the little guy falls on his butt.
The Quickling gives him a scowl back and starts to curse at him in under-common.
Quickly Volca walks to him, in a scolding tone. Grabs his arm and is dragging him off, both of them over talking each other. When suddenly she stops, brings the humanoid up to her level and gives him an inquisitive tone, the words still not understandable.
Hearing that, both Inasatra, who is learning the language quickly, glance over and sees Vulca, one eyebrow raised and a smile forming on her face. She starts over, putting the Quickling down, then handing it a jerky. It grabs it eagerly and starts to chew on it.
After an exchanged glance between Inasatra and Chance, the Odius lines up right in front of them.
“This little shit just gave us a good lead on a way in,” she says with a snicker, “I was yelling at him about watching where he is going, that we are trying to figure a way in to the fires and he just tapped his nose and said ‘smell’,” The short beast says, smile forming.
“If there is an alternate way in, and it seems like the lil’ shit thinks there is, just follow your nose to the smell of…” Volca said but got interrupted.
“Farts?” Talia says as she has made her way over, stretching a bit, keeping an eye on Luella who seems to be getting tired. “Why does everyone look like that; wrinkling their nose, someone ripped ass didn’t they?” she says matter of fact, reluctantly sniffing.
Chance giggles and looks to the Witchblade, “uh no, we might have a new option to make it into Ardor, or the fire or, whatever it is called,” he finishes glancing over to the mountainous range that can be seen from where they stand.
The Quickling looks happy, sipping out of his makeshift water skin, patting his belly. Everyone glances over to him and he looks surprised.
Volca invites the little guy to talk more and Chance tries to get a few winks of sleep, hoping he doesn’t get interrupted.
Chapter 2 – The One Way Trip
The Champion is awoke and everyone is at the bridge entrance, trying to stay a hair below it for safety sake. No one seems upset, so that calms the Champions nerves down. He walks over to the group and looks at them.
Inasatra looks frustrated, and everyone has stopped quietly talking amongst themselves.
“We can’t have us all go traipsing across the mountain to go looking for a possible entrance, or entrances from what I am gathering, the little shit said he has heard they are littered all along the mountain side,” Volca says, taking a sigh in between, “so we decided that it has to be you and Inasatra, no one else here is very good with stealth.”
Chance nods his head giving the Eldergleen a side-wards glance, then to the Quickling, “suppose he is going to go too, huh?”
Volca nods, “they are like the wind, plus he has a nose that is used to down here, it can help. He better do good if he wants the really good metals and food I promised.”
The group is now looking for a place to hunker down that is more covered and protected. They wander off about 2-3 minutes from the bridge and find a cluster of odd “trees” and higher wheat. Talia has cast a spell and with a bit of difficulty created almost a tree stand on one of the odd looking trees.
Half proud of herself she then starts to look for Chance who has walked over and already has grabbed her arm. They walk over to a more secluded part of the field.
“Sis, I am not sure what is going to happen next. If we can find an entrance, I am not sure if it is going to lead into the in-between or right into hell. So I have to tell you this, please please, do not do anything too rash no matter what happens,” the Champion finishes off giving her a thoughtful look, then continues, “this group is the priority, keep them safe.”
Wrinkling her nose she looks down, shaking her head, “why would I do anything rash, it would be… so unlike me!” The Witchblade finishes with a bit of muse.
“Be careful bro, find that entrance, get back here and we can figure out what to do next,” Talia says while hugging him, not seeing the look on the quarter elf’s face. She feels a kiss on the top of her head and she smiles.
The Champion knows it might be a half days journey to get to the edge of the mountains and who knows how much longer to find these entrances, if they even exist. If he traveled there, back and there again it could be 2 and a half, 3 days at least and they are quickly running out of time, if they are not already too late.
Luella gives Chance a look as to say she already knows. Sincere is clenching his jaw, thinking the same thing. As if a memo circulating through the group Volca is giving him a worried look. The only one that the memo did not get through to was Talia, though Demi seemed a bit indifferent about the whole thing.
“Stay safe guys,” Chance says and starts out only to get his arm grabbed by Volca.
A long look between them, ends in the Odius dipping her head and nodding knowing, for sure, it’s a one way journey. She turns back to the group looking for some jerky in her pouches. “Who wants some jerky” she yells making sure Talia does not realize… he is not coming back.
Inasatra, Chance and the quickling head over the bridge, hug the river bank and allow the little creature to walk a bit in front. They feel it would be more suited to see things they wouldn’t, like those hideous sludge mounds.
After a good 4 hours they stop. Not a word was said. The Eldergleen Elf has picked up enough of the under-common, she already knows 7 languages, so she can communicate with the “little shit” as Volca likes to call them.
Breaking the silence, “we are not planning to return to the group, are we? This is a one way trip,” the Elf says taking a light swig of her skin, giving him a look from the side.
After a few long moments, the Champion in obvious turmoil nods his head, “for me, yes.”
By now Inasatra is staring at the man she detested at first, but is slowly beginning to believe in. “No, I am not going to let you…”
“For. Me,” he says with some force, “I need the party to get back to the Caverns safely, I…” he says dipping his head a bit more.
“Need you Inasatra. What I am going to be going into I might have a chance to survive because of my powers. I need to know you are with them, helping them back…” he says stumbling over a few words, “I can then focus at what is in front of me and not worry about the group.”
She nods her head and sighs, “though, who knows what we will find here, it can be dangerous none the less.”
Chance is staring at his ration and whips it across the bank of the river, rolling down and into the sludge. “You are our best fighter, I trust you in a battle more than anyone else in the party. Plus, you have a much better handle on your heart… you will think with your head.”
A feeling of despair washes over the Eldergleen knowing everything he said was true, and her biggest challenge in the upcoming days will not be any beast she will face, but the “heart” of the party and their dedication to this quarter elf.
The quickling, with little care in the underearth, bounds forward and leads them along the edge of the mountains. A bit rocky, and times they have to climb over things and avoid possible dangerous areas. The three of them sit tight for an hour as the little guy spotted a creature called a Drake roaming the rocks. They continue for what seems two or three hours and a smell of brimstone is starting to become apparent.
Chance chuckles and the Eldergleen elf glances over, “what’s so funny?”
“We could of found an entrance on our own,” he says putting his nose in the air and sniffing.
Inasatra nods her head and smiles softly thinking the same thing.
Eventually they make it to an entrance or cave that was a good 20 feet up on the mountain, it smells of sulfur and has a weird rushing wind noise coming from it. It is almost 3 feet in diameter, looks to have some sort of water in it. The unfortunate part is, the liquid seems to be on fire, parts of it and the flames seem to dance all about as far as they can see.
The Quickling makes a noise and jumps down eyes wide.
Inasatra looks and babbles a few things, it returns a babble as it hits the ground again making a weird whiny noise.
With a heavy sigh, “he called this Ardor Water, I am guessing it is like lantern oil or something,” the Elf says looking in and grimacing at the wind, smell and brightness.
For a few minutes she watches the Quarter Elf scribble some things on some ripped parchments.
“Here, give this to Talia and Demi. Those are the two who would be dumb enough to follow,” he says handing her the pieces, with a slight smirk. But the Eldergleen can see his eyes welled up a bit.
She nods her head, “Is this really worth it? Sending you into what could be your death?” She finishes with a bit of force behind it, sensing the finality of the situation.
After a few moments he nods his head, “yes. This could potentially save hundreds of lives and put a damper on this cast off goddesses advancement. I am sure she had wicked plans for these Lords. I have to try… plus we have no other way of killing this thing, this lord.”
“Let me go with you, ok? I will make due…” Inasatra says quickly, looking into the hole and now more than ever unsure about this situation.
“Thank you Inasatra, you have been instrumental in this little adventure. We would not be here without you,” he says with sincerity and continues, “I really do need you to get them back safely. I will have little worries if you are there with them.”
Inasatra sees the jaw clenching, the pain in his eyes and the uncertainty. Turning into his half champion, he looks to the elf with glowing eyes, “It’s something I have to do on my own. It comes with my mantle and it is my responsibility. It is my responsibility, alone,” he says suddenly, like he just realized it.
The Eldergleen grabs a longer dagger, that has a slight glow to it and puts it in one of Chances empty spots on his belt across his chest, “keep your cool, ok?”
She backs up and sees the Champion with a confused smile on his face, “keep your. Cool. Really?” He says glancing into the hole of fire.
Her shoulders sag, realizing her bad pun, smiles and puts her hand on his arm.
Then like he remembered, Chance grabs his water egg and hands it to the beautiful elf. “You’ll need this more than me…”
Nodding her head, grabs the egg, she starts down the mountain to the Quickling who was getting antsy. With one glance back, her stomach now in knots and her heart dropping like a rock, Inasatra watches as the Champion of Finster walks into a hole filled with fire.
Chapter 3 – Into the Fire of Ardor
Chance grits his teeth knowing this is going to hurt. He jumps in and the water is kind of thick, the fire is waving around with the ripples he made. The Quarter Elf stands there, the liquid halfway between waist and knee, waiting for things to calm down, but realizes the water is hot, and he is essentially sitting in a vat of lantern oil. Any flames will engulf him at this point. DM: he takes 2hp of flame damage.
He slowly walks through the oil like water (DM rolled a 22) and for the most part makes it through with only a few fans of some flames and close calls. He notices the fire is getting more apparent, the air is getting stale and it has risen a good 15-20 degrees.
Chance makes it to another entrance or exit after about 40 feet if you will, glances out quickly knowing the flames can shift in his direction any moment. His eyes bulge seeing the vast open area of glowing orange fires, lava, flames in this hell. Things moving about in and around them. A distance scream, a growl closer by. Directly below him seems to be a pool of this oil / water with some flames dancing around in it. He takes a hard swallow, glances over his shoulder seeing the flames moving in. He jumps out, grabs the edge of the opening and holds on; just dangling there. Looking down he can see it is going to be about a 15-20 foot drop. He has to make a decision whether to land in water and take less fall damage but add in damage from the heat… or push off the side in hopes to make it past the puddle and take much more fall damage. It has to be quick, figuring the flames will make its way to the edge and his hands.
“I am used to getting hit, catching fire sucks,” the Champion thinks to himself. He does a squat with his legs on the side and pushes off, twisting and turning and with his acrobatics skill he lands a bit sideways, (rolled a 25) and tumbles to only 3hp of damage.
Smirking to himself, “not bad, got to remember that move.”
He wasn’t even finished with his thought when a growling voice comes from behind him, “ahhh, Rawek said you would be coming around and I just happened to guess the right hole.”
Chance swung around, sword drawn, Inasatra’s glowing dagger in the other, with wide eyes. There stands what looks like an imp. Greyish in color, but hard to tell with the fire and lava like substances giving off their light. A bigger bulbous head, large eyes that seems to be glowing some. A smaller body, leathery wings, with a long thin tail that is slashing about.
The two stand off for a minute and Chance can sense other presences around him, a lot of them. He glances nervously around, then back to this demon.
“So. First time in Pragagarias?” he says with a bit of a muse to his voice, “or, not sure what you would call it, fires of Ardor? Maybe hell?”
The tall quarter elf, can’t use his sense of smell, the brimstone masks everything. He can’t use his vision because everything is moving and shimmering. The sound is a weird deafening low wind like noise, and his instincts… well his instincts depend on familiarity and he had none here.
“Hell, we call it hell,” he says standing a bit straighter giving the creature another once over, “Demon, you know Rawek?”
He shakes his head, the creature swings his tail around, “Demon? No, I wish… I am a devil. As for Rawek, I know of him, but I do not know him personally…”
Chance nods his head and sheaths his sword, not knowing what else to do.
The Devil Imp smirks seeing that, “Rawek you see, no one likes him down here…”
With his eyes bulging the Champion goes to grab for his sword only to get grappled by burning arms. They wrap so tight around him and his skin starts to sear.
Anger starts to boil up in him, but suddenly Inasatra’s unexpected pun pops into his head, “keep your cool, ok?” runs over his mind a few times. He stops any struggling and stares at the Devil Imp in front of him.
“Good, good,” the smaller creature bellows in a half laugh, “though I wish you’d struggle more, we can keep you alive without arms and legs…”, he snaps his fingers and he is now being carried along a higher edge cliff looking down into the fires. Every once in a while, he turns half champ, heals himself a little then turns back quickly hoping he is not seen doing that.
He can hear an odd breath of his captor, seems to be taken once a minute if that, the steps are skitters and trudging like. Not very skillful.
The Imps long boney hand reaches out and points, “That is the Pragagarias Leviathon, goes for miles and miles and as far as the eye can see…” it continues pointing straight ahead. The Champion is trying to see where he is talking about and get a good look at what is carrying him.
“Many miles that way is what you would call the Crucible of Blood, its where the worst of the worst reside,” the devil finishes with a cackle, “or the best of the best, depending on how you look at it.”
After what seems to be an hour of traveling and Chance is starting to run out of Champion juice, they start down a path that leads to a large metal door against the cliff walls. A few more demons or devils walk over slowly and open the door that is about 10 feet in height and looks to be very heavy. The group walks in a hallway that you would guess would of been an old castle of sorts, but it is very large. 30 feet wide, probably 30 feet in height.
The Devil cackles again, “since we hate Rawek the least, we will kill you quicker…”
Chance sighs, images of his family and friends flashing in his head. A wave of nausea washes over him as he tries not to be sick.
Chapter 4 – Inasatra Returns, Alone
Inasatra and the Quickling make their way back to the bridge and to the makeshift camp they started. Walking through the Brush they are met with Demi and Volca weapons at the ready, side by side. Relieved it was just the Eldergleen, they stand down and put away their weapons.
Talia bounds over and looks past them, then back to Inasatra. The Witchblade looks at everyone in the group who is now, unfortunately, looking at her with worry and regret.
“Uhh, what is going on. Where is Chance?” she says, her voice going up an octave, starting to get worried. But the lack of reaction is confusing the hell out of her.
Inasatra walks over to Talia, hands her a note. Then she walks to Demi and hands her the other note. She dips her head and backs up a bit, looking to get herself ready to move out.
The Witchblade is speechless, she opens the note up and reads.
“Talia, I know that you will want to come after me, but I beg of you. Do not. This is something that I have to do and do alone. Keep everyone safe and I will see you back at the Caverns. Love, Bro.”
Her face slowly looks up to Inasatra, with her tears welling up.
Everyone braces for the explosion, the knee jerk reaction that Talia is known for and surprisingly got none of it. Just a tear rolling down her cheek, “that was the last time I will ever see him, wasn’t it?” She says dipping her head down trying to get it under control with her lips trembling.
She turns quickly, and puts the note away, frantically wiping the tears away that were coming and coming. The despair washed over her so quickly, and she knows she works off her emotions far too much. Takes a deep breath, whirling around, almost losing her balance she looks to everyone, nods her head. “Guess we should get going then?”
Talia looked to see Luella is void of color, just staring at the ground and looking none to happy.
The Witchblade glances over to Demi who seems a bit stunned, and their eyes meet. Frowning a bit, the Black Ward woman says “it just said, ‘get them home safe.'”
Plugrs daughter, her heart breaking has her head ringing and her heart beating out of her chest, “did it say Caverns? or did it say… home?”
The large Black Ward woman, clenching her jaw, pauses a moment, does not look at the young woman and says, “home. He said, home.”
Doing everything in her power not to lose it, she just nods her head and Talia looks to the Odius who is walking towards the Eldergleen.
Volca, in a subdued voice, looking at her from the side, “he ain’t dead yet, lets not count the corpses before the crows fly, as they always say.”
Everyone looks around and kind of shrugs there shoulders, as to say, they have never heard that before.
Shaking her head, the Odius looks to the Eldergleen, finishes walking to her. “You’re in charge now, what are we doing?”
Inasatra, a bit taken back by the demeanor of the Odius, and the lack of a power struggle, looks to everyone, “I am hoping you all rested enough, Chance wants us to get back to the Caverns as quickly as possible.”
Everyone is now starting to grab gear, and getting ready to walk, trying to come to terms with the turn of events.
“Lets keep a good pace, and stop when we are tired. If we recognize where we came out of the fields, I would like to try and make it back to that village for the night… or day, or whatever,” she finishes with frustration.
The group heads out, carefully makes their way back to the road and starts heading to the Caverns.
The Witchblade trails the group, as the realization keeps hitting her. She keeps walking, every step a chore… as tears start to stream down her face and her vision blurry. “He can do this, he can make it through…” she gasps a bit, keeping her head down, “hell… make it through, hell.”
She starts to remembering all her and Chance has done together, the laughs, the barbs, the pain and the triumphs.
“Oh my god, I am going to miss you,” she mumbles out of her mouth as she has to stop a second to catch her breath. For a fleeting moment, she has a little bit of hope in her heart that Chance, one of her best friends, her brother, will make it back to her.
Taking a long labored breath, she keeps telling herself to stay positive, “keep your head up girl,” she thinks, knowing that is what Helkyr would say.
She glances back one last time, a small urge to run for the mountains, but she knew it would be suicide.
Things get quiet, as Talia hasn’t moved a muscle. Still looking to the Mountains. A soft touch on her shoulder, and Luella is there, her eyes welling up too.
“He will make it, he faced tougher odds before…” the Invoker says then stops, shakes her head and mumbles, “no, sorry, that is a lie…”
The two embrace thinking that this could be it. The last they will see of him.
Talia thinks of Khamyra, the two children and her heart breaks. Shaking her head, squats down and again tears fall and fall. What am I going to tell them, how are they going to make it, fatherless. A vision of Plugr comes to her mind, her father and that was it. She dipped her head and she started to ball, couldn’t imagine her life without him.
She hears, of all people, Volca say “give her a few minutes, lets just move to the weeds a little…”
After a minute, the Witchblade gets up, turns from the group and wipes her nose and eyes. Then turns back, “let’s go. I want to get back before he does…” she says with as much fake confidence as she could.
“That-a-girl,” Volca says with some force and true confidence, “a little fire won’t stop him.”
The Odius whips around, Inasatra motions for them to start moving. As soon as they arrived at the doors to the fire, it seems, they were now leaving.
Chapter 5 – Prisoner of Ardor
It was the second day, he could only assume. Chance was doing everything to keep himself from turning to half-champion, or his healing power available, but the pain was so immense. It was bad enough it was physical, but they had some odd demons that could take the memories and distort them giving the Champion horrific thoughts, ideas and dreams.
“You promised a quick death you little shit stain…” the Champion growls looking at the imp who has had numerous demons and devils in and out of the chamber he was chained in.
The creature snickers and raises an eyebrow, “I did, didn’t I…” stopping to think, “ahh well, I guess you are right. I have a few other things to attend to and I will be back.”
Scampering across the floor he makes it to an old metal door and leaves, slamming it shut.
Empty and quiet, Chance is reflecting on his options. He can’t take much more of the torture, so death is an option… a selfish one, but an option none the less. Escape? He scoffs thinking how that would go. Miraculously get out of the chains, make it out the door to… where, he did not know and try and find a hole that is 20 feet up in the air somewhere… back, there.
He growls a bit, blood dripping off him with the multiple ways this imp did with damaging him with the most pain possible. Mainly his skin getting peeled away.
“Fuck it…” he slowly says, going into his half Champion mode and healing himself. If I am going to die I might as well not be in pain for my last hour.
His mouth was so dry, his stomach turned from not only the stress and physical, emotional turmoil but the lack of food and water.
After a few more minutes the door opens and in walks a magnificent creature. Skin dark as night, his body, wings, claws trimmed with a glowing gold. His eyes glowing yellowish / orange and the tip of his tail has an odd ornate symbol on it, in what else, gold.
“Is this the room…” he says, stopping making the imp like creature run into him.
He grabs the devil by the head and throws him across the room. It lands with a shriek and a crack against the wall. It slowly is trying to stand up, looks to be in pain.
Chance glares at the creature and smiles, then even gives out a chuckle.
This Demon, who has great aura and the Champion can feel his power as he approaches him. He looks him up and down and then raises an eyebrow. “Ahhdee see filla be foggrot illa chee manarcho” He finishes in a language Chance has never heard of before, glancing over to the Imp that was slowly walking over.
Eyes wide now, the Imp Devil is looking at this chained up man with no wounds. “hell fer dasacker ackie tat,” it responds not believing it.
The dark gold demon, just a tad taller than Chance tilts its head a bit and smiles, “You are a bit more than we bargained for, and you have some pretty… well… annoying friends,” he says in a smooth deep elegant voice, as he wipes a bit of blood off him and sees the skin looks like it was never broken. His eyes grow even bigger.
“Annoying friends,” Chance says, coughing a bit from the dry mouth, “that doesn’t really narrow it down much…”
The dark creature leans back and laughs. Takes a look at the imp, “garr fer dense ala kerasha killa fer,” he says in the Demonic language sternly and the little creature without hesitation runs for the door and goes out.
With that little time to think, the Champion smirks, “Rawek,” he utters glancing to the fantastic demon, “he can be annoying.”
He smiles, chuckles and nods his head, “he just won’t shut up. Not sure how he knew you were down here, but he is not a happy man… or bird…” he says, then pondering the invokers race with a finger to his chin.
With a glance about the room, and the pool of your blood below you he scrunches his nose, “so unsavory, there are easier and cleaner ways to torture people,” he says then continues, “We are going to let you out of these chains and I want to bring you in front of our Monarch. Please don’t disappoint, if he feels you are not interesting enough he will crush you. Literally, Crush. You.”
Chance half delirious with hunger and thirst nods his head, “I’ll try my best to dance and sing, I guess.”
“You don’t look pretty enough to get away with that,” he snorts then gives the Champion another look, “I am being rude, my name is Zeramed, one of the Soverns down here.”
A few other lesser demons or possible devils come in and they unlatch the chains to Chance and he falls to his knees with a grunt.
“Chance, Champion of Finster,” he replies, gagging a bit on the words, not a bit of moisture in his mouth.
Zeramed, as he called himself, tilts is head again and smirks, “Champion huh?”
The imp comes in shortly after, and did not make it halfway across the floor. With unreal speed Chance was in as full a Champion mode he could muster and streaked for the small devil. It’s eyes huge and the Champion grabs it, rips the head clean off like he was tearing some linen in two. Dropping the body, Chance takes the head and slams it against the wall of the chamber making the odd looking blood and brains fly everywhere. A loud splat sound echoes.
The Quarter Elf slowly turns to see Zeramed holding back the other two lesser creatures, with a raised eyebrow, “going to take us on now, is this your plot to escape, perhaps?”
The Champion feeling the exhaustion just shakes his head and turns back to his quarter elf state. “Go where? I don’t know where I am, and I am going to guess I wouldn’t last a second with you unless you found it… amusing,” he finishes off squatting down with his arms on his knees, “I.. I… didn’t even think, I just had to tear that fuckers head right off… if I had an ounce of spit in my body I would of sent it deep into his neck like the foul shit stain that he is.”
Realizing his anger got the best of him, he looks up expecting to see anger in return and some kind of punishment coming, but gets a huge smile, wide eyes and a nod of the demons head. Then Zeramed poses the question, “now… I am really curious, what else can a Champion do? No wonder Rawek has been chirping for days.”
Chapter 6 – The Monarch And The Nine Soverns Of The Fire
Chance is naked. He hasn’t had clothes on for days now, and oddly enough he didn’t care. No longer in pain for the most part and the horrific visions and dreams are gone.
He was led through some corridors, with nothing on and unshackled. He thought for a moment to run but shook his head knowing it would be a death sentence. Walking along, it all resembling a run down castle, and led into a huge, mostly empty, 50 x 50 chamber, towering ceilings and some other doorways that were just huge ranging from 20 feet wide and 15-17 feet high. Looking to his right, he sees some metal doors that are at least 15 foot doors. It is opened by one of the largest, things, he has ever seen. Almost indescribable, except it was radiating heat and Chance winced a bit from it as they entered.
The chamber inside was as big if not bigger than Grim Eyes dining hall. Heavily decorated, ranging from the macabre, to grotesque to stunningly beautiful. There are 4 demons in the room currently, and they all look over to the dark demon and Champion entering. A few more of those Imp creatures and what appears to be slave like demons serving the upper echelon entities.
A curvy gorgeous female Demon with large wings, a voluptuous body and all but naked walks over with a perky look on her face. Her eyes flutter a bit and a playful growl escapes.
The Dark Demon nods to her, “glad you could make it, Zannonoz, and no, you can’t fuck him,” he purposefully says in the common tongue to gage the reaction of the Champion, “she can’t speak common, but she knows the word fuck.”
Chance was in another world, literally and figuratively. All he could do is nod his head and keep walking along. Half dizzy and losing his breath with no water. The only reason he is still moving is his healing he did earlier in his half-champ mode. The floor was almost scalding, the air was dry and hot. It was any wonder he could even sweat right now.
He is stopped abruptly by a servant Demon, giving him a once over and glancing back to what is probably his master. What appears to be a woman, that has shadows and dark shifty like plumes of smoke wafting around her. Her face is being half covered with a dirt like substance, and her hair seems to be merging with the smoke now and again. The one eye almost has some sort of beam coming out as she slowly shakes her head, responding to the servant.
It is all too unreal for the Champion. Creatures he has never seen before, a place so large and the heat is just unbearable.
After a while, what Chance figures was an hour, the room is now filled. One female demon that is normal height but seems to be engulfed in a huge flame. A grotesque big, muscular demon that has a mouth on his stomach, tentacles and looks to have his brains sitting on top of his head, rather than in it. Another that makes sounds similar to what Dragons would make with long huge ox horns and stands a good 12 feet tall. Another, female it’s a guess, that looks like an Odius, bigger than Shemrata, but looks to be made out of wood. A spindly looking demon, or possibly devil, almost typical of what people think one should look like, except half his face seems to be barely a shell.
The 20 foot doors straight ahead of Chance, slowly open up and in walks a muscular demon, eyes a glow and looks to be about 10-11 feet tall. It finds itself about 40 feet from Chance, giving him a scowl. Then he speaks “hut frig dee skir rittin dee abolo monarch,” putting his hand out towards the giant doors.
Out of the darkness appears at least a 20 foot Demon. Nothing is small about this creature. The ground trembles a bit as he walks in, a scowl on his face. His skin is a darker grey, with glowing fire and lava under it’s skin. The eyes are vibrant scanning the room, then tilts his head quickly as to crack his neck making a weird click noise. With what appears to be rags he walks a few steps forward.
Everyone or every demon kneels to the huge Demon.
Chance, not wanting anymore kick back or torture, also kneels. If I was in a court, and a King entered, I would kneel, so why not now; he thinks to himself. He glances up to see the scowl on the giant Demon soften, just for a moment seeing him kneel… then the scowl returns. He billows when he talks, the room shudders, “guh gitta frizenta fak fak gur read vul whoop,” he says in what would be to him a normal tone, but sounds like a loud spell Khamyra would cast, it makes his ears ache a bit.
This monster of a Demon hovers his hand, and from the ground erupts a chair, of rock, metal and what appears to be lava. He turns and sits in the chair making the room shake a little. He waves his hand, seems disinterested.
Chapter 7 – The Interrogation
Zeramed comes over and bows again to his Monarch, looks to the humanoid and points. He starts to speak in the demon language and everyone is listening. The Champion is trying to understand but really has no idea what they are talking about until he hears the name “Finster” come from his mouth.
Chance snaps his head to the black demon lined with gold and scowls a little. A few of the Demons take notice, point and smirk. Zeramed glances over his shoulder to Chance and looks to be thinking or pondering. Shakes his head and continues to speak.
After a while, he finally turns to Chance, who is standing, naked, arms folded, dirty, grimy and kind of dizzy. “So Champion of Finster, tell us why would a demi-god want you wandering around down in the Underearth?” he finishes with some muse to it.
The devil like creature behind him makes a noise and Zeramed gives him the look of death, but the woman with the wispy smoke and beaming eye also seems to be looking and shaking her head; almost wanting to say something.
“Demi-god? Really?” Chance says slowly looking over to the Devil and the wispy woman, then back to Zeramed, “I have it on good authority he is now a god, up there with old Animax himself,” pointing upwards.
An odd look washes over his face as the Dark Demon purses his lips, “and who’s authority is that, may I ask?” He finishes with a raised eyebrow.
Chance stares him square in the face, smirks and replies, with force, “mine.”
Zeramed chuckles and gives the Champion a playful smile, “oh, I am sure you think he has…”
The Quarter Elf growls, some light beams out of his eyes and he leans towards the Black Skinned Demon much to his surprise. “I better be the authority, dark one, I was there when Animax opened the door for him and my Lord Finster walked his ass right on through to the godplane…” finishing with a snarl.
The Dark demon went to turn and say something when the Devilish one has walked to him speaking to him in the demonic language. A heated conversation with everyone in the room starts, and he can hear the name Finster getting thrown around a lot. Some seemed confused, others mad. From what the Champion can gather, a few knew of this, but the majority had no idea Finster walked right through the door to the Godplane.
Zeramed turns back to this man, sighs, “my apologies, apparently, he ‘has’ ascended…” shrugging his shoulders, “but what of the huge battle that should of taken place? I don’t recall hundreds of thousands dying above ground?”
Chance just shakes his head, sighs and looks about the room. “because it did not happen, that was not the eve of ascension.”
“Oh? Then the prophecies that we heard about are false?” He responds, musing a bit.
“No. The eve of ascension was not about Finster… it was about…” the Quarter Elf goes to continue but the Dark Demon waves his hand.
He leans in a bit, “I would love to learn more, but our…” the dark demon glances to the huge demon, “audience, they grow impatient. Not sure we would believe you either,” he finishes in a quiet hiss, giving Chance a bullshit look.
The Champion did not react much, just smirked a bit and took a deep labored breath.
With flair the dark demon turns to the horde of demons, maybe the most powerful scary group to ever exist on, or, under Legon. More was said in the language until he finally turns back to the CHampion.
“So, Champion of the, god, Finster, why are you here?” Zeramed says, raising an eyebrow, putting his hands behind his back; then beginning to pace.
He glances about the room, most of the creatures are looking to him. Chance sighs, “I am in need of what they call god-mud?”
The Dark Demon stops, glances to you and shakes his head, “…and.”
“I did not know what it entailed really, I was given this task at the last moment,” the Quarter elf says, coughing a bit from the dry mouth.
Zeramed walks to the naked man, grabs his face with force and pain shoots through the quarter elf’s entire body. The Demons eyes look like they are two golden balls engulfed in flames. His clawed hand digging deep into the skin. Talking through his teeth, “If I have to drag every word out of you, Champion or not, I will drag your entrails, inch by inch out of your throat instead… are we clear?”
Chance’s body starts to glow, spidery veins pop in an orange and to a blue, his eyes beam with light and a low deep guttural growl comes out, staring at the demon, “crystal.” Is all he says.
The Monarch as some call him, stands from his giant chair with what appears to be a smirk. He squats down to the Champion and slowly nods his head.
The dark skinned demon turns to see his Monarch giving the quarter elf a curious look. He glances back to the man who’s eyes are going back to normal, the veins start to dissipate. “Well, you got his attention,” he says with a side wards smile, then a nod of the head to continue.
Chance is grimacing a bit with the power radiating off this giant of a Demon. He eventually stands back up and plops into his chair again, making things rumble and some rocks and debris fall from the ceiling.
“So I am down here to get this god-mud or Tree-scar, or…” trying to remember what the real name is Chance continues, “Tarascree or some shit. We need it for an incantation, or spell or something, whatever, I am not a spell slinger. I just stab things…”
The devil chuckles a bit, as does Zeramed, who is giving him a look again to speed this up.
“Anyways, we found a creature in this roundel up in a place called Hillside, we need this god-mud to kill it because it is rumored to have been created by a god, and has god blood in it,” the Champion says, kind of zoning out and continuing, “so apparently this shit that forms in this godhaven can do something and…”
The Dark demon is waving his hand around, “stop for a moment, this creature was created with god blood?” he says furring his brow, “I can’t imagine Animax would do that, and Atticus… well, I doubt he would either. Finster is way too new, so I am at a loss…”
Chance looks the Demon right in the eye and says, “it is a creature created by Immryllion, a cast off goddess…” is all he got out.
The room erupts with that name. The Monarch stands and growls so loud, it was like the Quarter Elf ear drums would burst. Other Demons hiss, screech, some even come for the Champion who has wide eyes and is backing up with his hands out in a “easy now” motion. Chance skins start to burn and pain overwhelms him.
Zeramed’s eyes all but bulge out of his head, “whoa, whoa!” he yells, turning to the group in front of him waving his hands. Then starts to loudly speak in their language.
Chance squats down, takes a deep breath, turns himself half champ and heals himself. He is very low on heal juice but that little outburst burnt half his skin away.
He glances up to see the dark and gold demon looking down on him smiling.
“You really are not boring, let me tell you that,” he says with a small smile, helping the Quarter Elf stand up, “now for a very important question, and we need a truthful answer.”
Grabbing the quarter elf’s arm and pulling him closer to the group, “Champion, are you helping this Immryllion?” Finishing with a glance to him and then to the group who is staring at him now.
The Champion pulls away from the grasp and gets an angry look on his face, “fuck no, that bitch can burn and die 1,000 times… me and my group are in the lead to take this shit-stain out… for good.”
Zeramed turns to the group, starts to talk and Chance can hear him say “shit-stain” and they all smirk and nod their heads. Then turns back to him, nods his head for him to continue.
“I was to get this mud, get back there and we can destroy the creature for good before Immryllions entourage makes it there. Goddammit, I don’t know how long I have been down here, but it might already be too late,” Chance says getting a worried look.
The Dark Demon motions for the wispy woman to join him and they speak for a few minutes, then he turns to the Champ, “no, they are a ways off still, we believe. Rawek has them pinpointed and we intercepted his power transfers. It is quite the force they are bringing…” he finishes nodding to the now dirty, tired and thirsty man.
One of the Imp devils walks over and hands Chance a cup of water. It is almost steaming, but he smells it, sips it and smiles. Drinks it down making him cough a bit, even though it was hot, it was water.
After another meeting of some Demons, Zeramed comes over and actually looks a little worried, talking in lower tones, “so we are discussing the re-emergence of Immryllion, and Arrarok mentioned that the prophecy could of been misinterpreted, she thinks…”
The Quarter elf scoffs and shakes his head, “yeah, completely understandable. We went through the same process. Once this scourge tried to kill off half of Legon with a drought, we realized Finster was not the one that the Eve spoke about, but of the Iron Wench.”
“Iron Wench, I have heard her called that once or twice, but can’t remember where,” the Dark Demon says thinking for a moment.
Chance is still nodding his head, “Dragons, she enslaved Dragons and killed them for their magic. Something like that, to be honest I am surprised I am even standing at this point, so my mind is not exactly functioning at full horse gallop.”
Zeramed, impressed with this mans knowledge shakes his head and gives him a thoughtful look, “so this eve of ascension will have Animax and Finster fighting this demi-goddess?”
Chance, barely looking at him nods his head, “yes, and I will be the one leading the armies against her, someday.”
Pointing at a smaller door on the far side of the chamber, Zeramed says, “head over to that room, Champion, the ‘adults’ need to discuss a few things.”
Chapter 8 – The Journey Back
The group was very quiet, so not to be detected but also from the realization the leader they came down here with, is no longer with them and his fate is in question.
They stop for a bit to drink, eat and do what they have to. The area is starting to wear on them, the orange tinge, the hissing sound that seems to be giving everyone a head-ache and a bad temperament and the idea they can get attacked at any moment.
“We are going to be cutting this real close with water, I think,” Volca says, staring off into the vast plains, “unless we get to the village or take a slight detour towards the sludge river.”
Inasatra nods her head in deep thought, “I think the area where we came out from the village is still ahead, but I am not sure I can pinpoint it exactly, and if we guess wrong…” she says grimacing a little.
The group nods their head knowing returning to the village is probably not an option.
Talia is standing at the edge of the make shift road, staring across the wheat and odd looking landscape. She is trying to get her emotions under control, the urge to run back and search for Chance is still strong, but she has to focus on the task at hand.
Demi comes over giving the young girl a look, knowing she must be worrying. “He is Black Ward for a reason. His skill set is unlike anything they have seen,” she says with a wisp of her hand, “at least that is what they kept telling me when I first started. I believe he can make it.”
Talia nodded to her, giving her a short glance, appreciating her attempt to make her feel better.
Luella made her way over after the large Black Ward woman walked back to the group.
“Wonder what he is doing now? Is he on fire? Melting? A pile of ash?” the young Witchblade says to the Invoker, “I can’t even imagine what could be going on down there.”
Luella starts in, “honestly, I have to believe he will make it. Rawek told me of what they call a Champions Fate, ever hear of it?” she says guiding Talia back over to the group.
The Witchblade shakes her head and sighs, giving the Invoker a small smile and starting to walk with her.
“No matter where Chance goes, he was fated to be there. He was meant to travel to Breakwater Wharf with Khamyra and the slut-faced skank to stop the drought, he was meant to take on this Hillside Mission,” the beautiful dark haired woman says, “he, was fated to go into the fires… alone. If he was fated, I have to believe it means he will return to us. Otherwise why fate him to be there?”
Volca is eavesdropping, and not to subtle; she gives Luella a thoughtful look and a nod of her head.
The two of them stop, Talia in quieter tones, “I appreciate the idea behind that, but that just means he will live forever, right? If he goes to the peaks of Thundrad Mountains or the depths of the Ever Shimmer, he will live? Because he was fated to be there…” she pauses, shakes her head, “he might be fated to be somewhere, but that is no guarantee he lives, not with the things he is into… or forced into, for that matter.”
Luella dips her head a bit, slowly nodding. Talia squeezes her arm and the two of them rejoin the group.
Two hours into the trek closer to the caverns, Inasatra got everyone to stop.
“I heard something, and I sense something too,” the Eldergleen elf says looking about the area, where the wheat is a bit higher than it has been.
Volca went to scoff, but realized, she was right. “Everyone, gear yourself now…” the Odius says with a low hiss, a ticking sound starting.
Chapter 9 – The Deal
Chance sits on a stone slab, that was refreshingly cool. He then lays flat on it and it takes a bit of burden off his ever weakening body from the heat, lack of food and water.
He dozes off, having a terrifying nightmare and gets awoke by Zeramed. “Sleeping awful soundly for being in the depths of the fire, my young friend.”
The Champion, twirls around and sits, head in his hands from the head-ache that is starting to grow. Playfully responds, “we are friends now? Good, we can get together for some ale and chips after this is all done and play some knuckle bones.”
“That, actually sounds nice,” he retorts quickly, snapping his fingers making Chance jump a little, “but I like to inform you that we have a deal for you…”
Chance shakes his head, stumbles a bit to stand, but eventually does.
The Dark Demon gives him a curious but annoyed look, “Oh, you don’t want a deal then?”
“Deal… more like, I am going to die unless I say yes, so lets cut to the chase,” Chance says with a bit of a hoarse voice, “what do I need to do?”
Smirking, “fair enough, but I think you will like what I have to offer,” Zeramed finishes off, stopping his pacing and faces the young quarter elf, “it is heavily in your favor.”
“We will let you leave, and send you off to Godhaven. You can grab some of that mud and meet Ikon,” he says, starting to pace again, “once you get back to this ‘Hillside’ we will take care of this Lord for you as well.”
Eyes a bit wide and a smile forming for the quarter elf, “that, is excellent. But I am sure there is more. Plus there are things living with the Lord in this Roundel thing.”
Nodding his head, the dark one continues, “we will take care of anything in this hole. Plus, we do not want to see this cast off atrocity to ascend anymore than you do, so in return, you will have to do something for us. But…”
“Great, buts, I hate buts,” chance says stretching a bit, giving the demon a look over.
Smiling, he continues, “there will be something you will have to do, without question, after we take care of the Lord. I know it’s vague, but we haven’t quite figured out how it will work yet. This is un-debatable. Say no, and well, you were right… you die.”
Giving the demon crazy eyes, Chance sighs, “sure, why not. If you were going to kill me you would of done it a long time ago, plus you need me to lead the armies if you want to put this bitch down…” tries to finish but starts to cough and cough.
“Yes, yes,” Zeramed interrupts, watching the quarter elf double over in a fit of coughing, “so if you are in full agreement, I guess we better find something for you to wear? I for one am tired of looking at your inch worm.”
Chance not all that amused gives him a look, “I want my armor and sword back, and there was also a dagger, plus…” he goes to continue but gets interrupted.
“Your armor is long gone, but I am pretty sure we have your weapons. I will get one of our imps to fetch them, unless you want to behead all of them imps beforehand?” Zeramed says with a playful eyebrow raise.
The Champion gives him a smile and a nod in appreciation.
The Dark Demon turns and heads for the door, “I will get some water for you, and oh, yeah, one more thing…”
Chance rolls his eyes, sitting down on the bench, “…and here we go.”
Zeramed laughs, “that entourage that was heading to Hillside? yeah, they are… taken care of,” he finishes with a smirk and walks out the door.
The quarter elfs eyes widen and a wave of relief washes over him. “Taken care of, I hope they ripped them all in two…” he mumbles to himself with a growl.
Chapter 10 – Back to the Caverns
Volca points to the long pathway leading up in the distance and that is met with cheers and smiles. Shaking her head she waddles her way towards the entryway back to the above ground.
Thinking to herself, “survived two battles, one with some nasty lizard like people and more goddam shed dogs, just glad we are back, safe.” The Eldergleen elf moves with purpose and quickens the pace now that the destination is in sight.
The group was ambushed by 5 “Helix” warriors and the battle went fairly well. No one was too injured and they dispatched them fairly quickly. That led them to slowing down and being more cautious.
After a few stops, and some sleep, Volca realized they were being followed and the Quickling also alerted them. Three shed dogs attacked and it was a long bloody battle where Luella was thrown 20 feet into the weeds. Luckily she survived, because she came back with a vengeance. The group never saw her so angry before and she belted out 3-4 of this “eldritch” spells ripping one of the dogs in half.
Beside being filthy, smelly, every ones armor a mess and very very thirsty, they made it back in one piece.
They head up the path, Volca grabs her scythe and reaches for a hanging chain. The blade grabs hold, something clinks and the drawbridge is slowly coming down, a louder ratcheting sound making everyone wince a bit.
Eventually they make their way back into the entrance area, walking through the putrid smelling barracks of more Odius’s, mixed breeds and a Goliath. Talia does not hesitate and walks straight for the portcullis, “I am going to open this now!” Alerting the Dwarven Guards.
She moves a lever and the portcullis goes down, she heads out the heavy doors and into the night. Blasted with cooler air, she looks up to see stars, a few clouds, the moons. She shivers a bit and takes a deep breath, coughs and then turns to see everyone else piling out.
Sincere is patting himself on the side of the head, “I wonder when this ringing in your head stops, I was so used to the hiss… I think my brain misses it.”
Everyone now stretching, walking a bit, looking up and breathing deep.
Talia has a wave of anxiety wash over her, now knowing she will have little to keep her occupied while she waits for “short tips.” Her mind races thinking, how long do we wait for? Do we go back in for him? What happens if… she stops herself and shakes her head, tries to enjoy the cool fresh air and the night sky.
Volca makes her way out last, offering everyone a large pitcher of water she has in her hand; allowing everyone to take a big swallow of it.
“That water tastes amazing!” Luella says, eyes wide staring into the pitcher.
Volca rips the pitcher out of her hand, “OK, horny girl I don’t want you squatting on it or anything,” she finishes walking towards Talia.
The entire group erupts with laughter, looking over to Luella who is slowly shaking her head and blushing.
Talia reaches for the pitcher, takes it and guzzles some water, she hands it back to Volca who oddly has a very caring look on her face. She places her hand on the Witchblades arm.
“He will make it back, I know he will,” the Odius says with complete confidence, turns and walks away waving the pitcher around for any one who wants more.
The young Witchblade smiles a bit and nods her head, “he better come back, otherwise I’m going to kick his ass!” She mumbles to herself.
After a few more minutes they start to head in as some Dwarven guards descend upon them hearing the ruckus a click past high moon.
Volca dispatches the guards and the night moves on.
Chapter 11 – The Final Touches
Chance is gnawing on what he thinks is some sort of jerky that tastes like a piece of charcoal. Hoping he doesn’t throw it up, but he needs some sort of food in his body. He has drank his fill of hot water, and is hoping some food will settle his stomach down.
Finally with some basic of clothes, made out of what he imagines some dead mans outfit, he is happy his, “inch worm” is not hanging out any longer.
Zeramed comes into the room, looking annoyed. “We have yet, another gift, for you. You really made out in this deal Champion.”
The quarter elf smiles, nods, “yes so much so I had my skin literally peeled off me, nightmares and despicable imagery jammed in my head, almost died of thirst and starvation, practically had my skin burnt off and…”
The Dark Demon puts out his hand, “you wine like a demon mule, you realize this.”
“Well, yes, it is all I have right now besides this burnt inedible jerky, some steaming hot water and these lovely hand me downs from a corpse I am surmising… I am guessing what I am wearing is all I will have for my journey back.” Chance says glancing over to his Silent Fate and the glowing dagger Inasatra gave him.
Chuckling Zeramed is heading for the door and opens it to two imps coming in holding what appears to be fantastical armor.
“Dug up this old relic from centuries ago. I think it might fit you now, we made some adjustments…” he says pointing the Imps over to the Champion of Finster. They drag over some armor that makes Chance’s eyes bulge.
(find that motherfucking armor, put it here)
After waiting for a short time, Chance stomach is flopping around like a salmon out of water. The door opens and the only Devil in the Nine, comes in and walks to you. Speaking in a skittish common tongue, “Zeramed told me you have agreed to all the terms for this accord? Any questions?”
Chance looks the devil over, a noticeable difference from Demon to Devil, and he realizes why Demons rule the fires. The Devil has very little presence in the room, seems almost scared and doesn’t look like he could win an arm wrestling contest with a 5 year old. Holding a thick parchment, with words of another language on it.
“Yes, I did,” the quarter elf responds.
The Devil proceeds to go over all the agreed upon things to Chances satisfaction, except the final one.
“What is this final thing, I have to do when it is all said and done?” The Champion says giving the red skinned creature a look.
Shaking his head, the Devil responds “honestly, I do not know, and if I did… I wouldn’t be able to tell you. At least not without having my head ripped off my body.”
“Fair enough, yeah. Done deal,” Chance finishes and starts to turn for his weapons when his arm was grabbed and his palm put upwards.
The devil is twirling a nasty looking dagger, “here is the part I like,” he says and even before he finishes drives the dagger deep into the Champions hand.
“ARRGG!” is all that comes out of Chance, eyes exploding and his skin getting covered with blue veins.
Stepping back, the creature backs up, like he forgot what the quarter elf was and slowly smiles and shrugs his shoulders. Takes Chances hand and slaps it on the parchment. The scroll glows a bit then dissipates. The devil, looks to Chance, “hey you are not the only one.”
He drives the dagger into his palm and slaps the blood on the parchment and again it glows. He rolls it up and heads for the door, “good doing business with you, someone will be in shortly to guide you through the crucible of blood.”
Chapter 12 – The Crucible of Blood
The over sexualized curvy demon woman walks into the chamber and purrs a little looking over the now fully armored Champion of Finster. Chance does everything in his power not to roll his eyes to the back of his head.
“Uhh, come, my Champion, we are heading out to the Crucible of blood,” she says in a silky smooth voice, making her eyes wiggle a little.
Chance heads for the door and they lock eyes.
“I could fuck you six times to starday if you need to work off some aggression?” she offers the Champion as he passes by.
He chuckles, and without missing a step, “it’s tempting, but I am not sure you could keep up with me…”
A loud bellowing laugh erupts from the Demon who follows the Champion out of the chamber and down some old corridors.
Sweat pouring off him, he is glad he drank as much water as he did, he is sweating it all out now.
It leads out into a horrific landscape of fire, lava like substance, demons of all sorts wandering. The one long horned Demon you remember that is called Gozillak shows up and makes an odd bellow sound, that makes Chance wince a bit. Most of the demons in the vicinity all scatter. This demon is almost 12 feet tall, looks like he could knock over a castle with his horns and Chance is not sure he knows any languages, other than a bellow or two.
The Champion sighs feeling the overwhelming heat, his face starts to feel the singe a bit and he stops. “How the hell am I supposed to make it through here, I am going to burn up…”
He gets a wack on his ass, and a glance from Zannonoz, “Put your helm on genius, half the reason we gave you ‘Fire Feast’ is to make it through the Crucible…”
The Champion sighs, puts the helm on and instantly his face stops hurting. The armor is called Fire Feast, interesting. The sweat pouring down his face, down his back and to every crevice of his body is still happening but it does not appear he is getting hurt by the absurd temperatures.
“We have a ways to go to hit the Crucible, so let’s get-a-walking!” the tempestuous Demon snarks, heading out with the monstrous Sovern demon by her side.
After what seems hours they head into a cavern and the sights, the sounds are horrific again. Things being torn apart, blood like substance thrown around, fire gushing from the ground, shadows creeping all around. Flashes of lights and fire bursting, it does not look like a vacation spot. But one thing he notices, they all go the opposite direction of the group Chance is with.
“So why did you take this little quest on, to get me to Godhaven?” Chance says trying to take his mind off of the surrounding landscape.
She is walking along, and smiles, glances back, “I was bored and I thought you might want of shagged before heading out…” she answers nonchalant like, “Gozillak here, he loves this area, he hunts here and tries to keep things in order. Not sure his brother Taemmoanth has made it back yet. He usually roams the Crucible too. He was the Demon with a stomach for a mouth… even I wouldn’t fuck him.”
The Champion keeps looking, shakes his head at the ludicrous situation he is in. “Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, you’ll make it through this,” he mumbles to himself.
“I got a question for you. I am curious my little Champion, did you think you would of made it through the Crucible alone?” Zannonoz muses a bit tromping along with her tail wagging, her wings bopping and her chest out for all to see.
Walking along, drenched in sweat he scoffs, “I had no idea what the Crucible was, I mean I could guess it wasn’t a nice swim in Glimmer Bay, but no one had any idea what it was. So sure, I thought I could, because I didn’t know what it was.”
She wrinkles her mouth and glances back, “odd way of thinking, you wouldn’t of lasted 10 seconds…”
“Oh honey, I last a lot longer than 10 seconds,” he muses back, making the female demon giggle. “But truthfully, I doubt I would of even made it to the start of the Crucible, let alone go through it alive.”
Zannonoz stops a moment and gives you a thoughtful look, “for a humanoid, you sure are feisty, and oddly realistic,” she says nodding her head, turning to start walking again, “but kind of dumb. All the good looking ones are.”
After a close call with some Demons doing a royal rumble in the main pathway, Chance notices that things are cooling off a bit, less and less demons, less and less fires. And as if it came out of no where, a monstrous cavern wall appears in front of them. They continue to walk, and Gozillak guides them to where some larger, more powerful Demons are congregating.
After a few head nods, a bellow or two the horned demon continues past the demonic group and walks to a large cave entrance. He stops looks at you both, or at least Chance thinks he does, and points.
“Yes Yes, Gozillak, we know, ” she says patting the demon on his arm, then says a few things in the demonic language. The large demon turns, bellows loud and heads back to the group of Demons they just past.
The beautiful demon starts to guide you into the cave, but stops, whirls around, “hiy turr frik ripp kipopop Gozillak guy ya.”
The horned creature stops looks and nods, then starts to run for the other Demons who look like they are ready to fight, or play depending on what species you are.
Chapter 13 – Zannonoz
Zannonoz is starting to shiver as you can feel cooler wind rushing into the cavern. She brings her wings down around her protecting her from the air. “How, the fuck, does anything live in this temperature?” She says angrily.
Chance takes off his helm and can now see a light ahead, it’s dim, but it is there. His dark vision doing crazy thing as some areas of the cavern seemed almost void of substance, pure darkness.
“So what is this, cavern here, called?” The Champion asks as they are getting closer to the light.
She snorts, and the voluptuous demon shakes her head, “you could never pronounce it and I don’t think there is a translation.”
Then the Quarter Elf realizes something, “wait a minute, you speak common…”
Zannonoz stops dead in her tracks, wide eyes and mouth open, “wait, wait, I apologize, I take back that statement about you being a sexy idiot…”
Chance feeling the cool air, realizing the fires are behind him lets out a laugh that only the Champion can give, “well, I asked for that one, didn’t I?”
She walks over and smiles, “you are so much cuter when you smile and laugh, bet you look even better getting fucked through a bedroom wall too…” she finishes with a purr. “But, yeah, I don’t let everyone know I speak common, otherwise I would be dragged all over the place like Zeramed. He keeps my secret and I fuck him like a king once in a while.”
Chance nods his head, “I thought I had a libido, then I met my wife. But, hats off to you m’Lady Demon, in the sex department, you beat us both, maybe combined.”
Shaking her head a little she starts to continue to walk, “sex? hell no. I fuck. If you think you’ve had amazing sex, you weren’t even close to have amazing, fucking,” she says with a slight giggle.
The Quarter elf, turns to his semi Champion state, “I think you under estimate me still, the Champion powers don’t stop at the belt you know,” attempting to be cute.
It was an instant regret as the large breasted winged demon turns and her eyes light up, even a little drool down her chin, “Oh fuck yeah Ranger boy, we need to figure this dance out!”
Chances eyes bulge and he backs up, hands out. After a slight tussle and him explaining to her 30 times he is married and he wants his dick not to be a burn stump, she angrily and playfully walks to the light.
They reach the light, and it is a dim one. They step outside the cavern and look around. A long, stone constructed walkway, leading perfectly straight ahead lays in front of them. To either side is a very dim foggy atmosphere. A few sounds that seem to echo from all over. The air is cooler, but more a very very dry Summer Isle level.
After a minute of staring down the path, his dark vision is not working. Blinking rapidly, and shaking his head, he looks again.
Zannonoz leaning against the cave entrance, wrapped in her wings is watching this humanoid blink and knock his head, wondering how the hell did he live for how long he has. Looks can only take you so far, she muses.
“Dark Vision doesn’t work here hun,” she says tilting her head, “even that vision needs something to work with, and from what we can tell, there is nothing there.”
Nodding his head, he glances back, “uhh, how many people have gone through here, to this, godhaven? Did they survive?” Chances mind starting to scramble, now getting worried again now that he isn’t on the steps of this Eden, but in a vast emptiness.
She curls her lips and her wings tap together for a bit, “don’t remember, I know someone did a while ago, us not really giving a shit about time, I couldn’t tell you when. Let’s just say, it ain’t very often. and, how the hell would we know if they lived? I can barely stand her without my nipples exploding off my chest,” she finishes pushing out her perfectly shaped boobs, and pierced nipples.
Still, a little teenager left in him, he smiles big and raises an eyebrow, impressed at the pair that is staring at him, then he shakes his head and tries to refocus.
Giggling a little, “you remember what to do with those crystals we gave you right? Don’t lose them either, otherwise…”
“What? I get my skin peeled perhaps? Maybe starve me to death? Give me horrific nightmares? Oh, wait, you already did that,” he says in the most playful way possible, though it is eating away at him like a mangy dog, “yes, I remember. Four crystals around the Roundel, and throw the fifth one in.”
She smiles real big, not wanting to freeze for too much longer, “any more questions for me Champ?” she says, turning in to the entrance.
“Guess you wouldn’t want to accompany me to Godhaven huh?” he says somewhat playfully and a puppy dog look.
She belts out a laugh that echoes a bit through the unknown mist of the path ahead, “no, no, I would rather cut off my own tits and eat them.”
Chance glances back down the endless path and back to her, “Do you have any suggestions then? Anything that can help. I have nothing to go on here.”
“tisk tisk,” Zannonoz says, “you sound like a newly born imp. But I do have one thing I can tell you…”
Looking over to the demon with a smirk on her face, Chance nods and smiles.
“I have been told that anyone who walks the, ‘dut thrak bull frilihm,’ should probably not turn around, do not stop, and never ever, head back. So get walking Champ, and don’t do anything dumb!” she blurts out as she starts to head into the entrance.
Chance went to say something but gets a powerful, loud wack on his ass making him jump and wince a bit, her tail doing a number on his buttocks.
“Thank you Zannonoz,” the Champion says, turning back to the path ahead and starts walking.
Chapter 14 – Waiting is the worst part
“Talia, goddammit!” Demi yells at the Witchblade who is packing gear, “we are not going! There is nothing we can do right now!”
Shaking her head, she is looking over her weapon and packing in some jerky she found. Talia was on one of her missions.
“He is there because of me!” the Witchblade screams pointing through the portcullis, taking a second to swallow her emotions.
“You, why the hell would he be in hell because of you?” the large Black Ward member retorts with just as loud of a voice.
Luella steps up and gets their attention as Talia looks down, breathing heavy and everyone can see the exhaustion just overwhelming her.
“Because, Talia died at that bridge, and he…” the Invoker starts, stops a moment and frowns, “didn’t want anyone else to be hurt or in danger. There is a reason he is our Champion, and doing things like this to protect other people, especially the ones he loves, it is just what he does,” she finishes with a hug of the Witchblade.
The group who is now either sitting at the main table, or standing around it, looking to the daughter of Plugr and the Invoker.
“Open the door Volca, I want to go…” Talia said after her hug, wanted to say more but gets interrupted immediately by a Goliath at the bars of the divide, growling.
The Odius, smirk on her face shaking her head, “never going to happen kid, never going to happen.” She walks towards her only to get her weapon pointed at her throat.
“Now, open it, now,” the Witchblade, eyes on fire and obvious exhaustion taken over, “if he is traveling the plains or whatever the fuck it is down there alone, he will need our help!”
Volca moves a bit closer allowing the blade to cut into her neck a bit, “go ahead, kill me and, you, or better yet, no one goes back down into the underearth, Witchblade, I am the only one allowed to open the doors.”
Talia pulls her weapon back, twirls around, anger in her eyes, “what is wrong with you all? Knowing where he is, what he might be going through and we just sit here and wait for what? for how long? This… is bullshit!” she finishes throwing her dual bladed staff against the wall.
The room grows quiet after the click clack of the weapon on the ground, most people a bit on edge. The group looks around to themselves, a few Dwarf guards staying a bit away but keeping an eye on things.
Talia giving Demi the evil eye, and the Black Ward woman just shakes her head, “you have a note, written by Chance asking you to do something. He is our leader in this quest, and he is my direct boss. If you don’t follow directions, follow orders, why bother with a leader at all?”
The Witchblade takes off her backpack and other pouches, drops to the floor and she heads out the front, through the portcullis and to entrance of this smelly dank hole in the wall they call the caverns.
Once she is out of ear shot, Volca turns to the group dabbing her neck. “She is a little spit fire, I like her!”
Demi gives the Odius wide eyes, “Being a spitfire is one thing, but going rogue whenever you feel like it is dangerous, and reckless for all involved.”
“She loves him,” Luella says looking up from her cup of bean water, sadness in her eyes, “as do I. He would have done anything for us including going into the fires of Ardor. The fierceness of his loyalty goes both ways.”
The Invoker shifts and then smiles a bit, “I have a feeling he is still kicking, I am far from an expert in my powers I have with this invoking, but his absence is not among the vibe I am getting. Something went down in the fires, but I am unsure what.”
Everyones head snaps to Luella, and Sincere puts his hand on her arm, “You know something went down in the fires? Like something bad?”
She shrugs her shoulders, “I didn’t really want to tell anyone anything, especially Talia. Its a vague feeling I got when I connected to the underearth. Because I am so close to an entrance it seems to be magnified. So yeah something went down, there was a consolidation of great power, but I know little else or what that could of been.”
Inasatra who hasn’t said a word in 3 days finally speaks up, “a meeting perhaps?” looking around to everyone who is nodding their head. “I wonder what for?”
Volca waddles across the floor, passing everyone by, “we don’t tell Talia that, anything like that might ignite her again. But… she does bring up a good point,” she says, stopping and turning back to the group, “how long do we wait for? And… if it goes on for weeks? Do we still sit here? Go back down? What?”
The room is quiet again, no one really knowing the answer to that.
The portcullis comes down, then back up and everyone glances over to the entrance area. Talia is walking in with a small sparrow scroll (one that is tied to a sparrow for communication purposes). She walks to Inasatra and hands it to her.
“Just came in, I was told to give this to you,” the Witchblade says shrugging her shoulders.
Inasatra opens it up, sighs loudly then stuffs it in one of her pouches.
“Well?” Volca says loudly for the rest of the group to hear.
The Eldergleen elf smiles softly, “Azatina is now the ruling Queen of Magus Orion. She also wants an update on the task at hand as she has considerable defenses at the base of Hillside.”
Everyone glances to each other and shrugs their shoulders.
In typical Talia fashion, “Just say we left Chance for dead in the under earth and we are now waiting for nothing…” she finishes with a whip and stomps into the sleeping area of the complex.
Sincere glances around and chuckles, “well, maybe we don’t say that.”
Chapter 15 – To Godhaven
Chance is walking down the path, bridge or whatever it seems to be. It is a near perfect structure in width, size and build. About 20 feet wide, 2 foot solid stone railings on each side, and roughly every 70 steps is a connection of sort that is topped off with an odd spade like rock form.
A sound echoes through the area, the bridge shutters a little. The champion shakes his head and looks around, then realizing that he stopped, he keeps walking.
Above him he can hear what he thinks is birds, if that is a thing in this void. To his left, and it seems miles away, comes a bellow of some sort. Sounds like some monstrous creature in pain.
After 30 minutes, Chance is positive there is something following him on this path, this bridge. “If I turn and go after whoever or whatever is following me, will something bad happen like Zannonoz said? What if I wait to long and it attacks me? What if…”
He picks up the pace and moves along, and it seems like whatever was following him is farther off. Afraid to look back he just keeps moving.
After a few hours, shaking his head he mumbles, “what the hell is this place? Why is there a stone bridge structure spanning for miles and miles, and who the hell built it?!?” Smirking to himself hoping no one answers.
He walks a bit closer to the edge and looks over. Whether it was his imagination or not, something seemed to be moving down in the dark mist, over the edge, and he did not want to find out what.
Afraid to stop walking, he can see something in the distance, far to his right in the vast mist and dark shadows. He is unsure but it seems to be hundreds of feet long, and who knows how tall. Slowly moving, its eyes fading in and out of the mist as it slowly turns its head. If he had to guess it was like a bull that grew 100 times its normal size.
Picking up the pace the Quarter Elf thinks to himself that if he was going to be a meal, a beast 300 feet long trying to eat a 6 foot humanoid would be like grabbing a jerky, ripping just the tip off and eating it. Very unsatisfying and not worth the trouble; If that thing had a brain, motive or anything. The creature started to turn and is slowly trudging away. Chance can almost feel the bridge tremor with its walk.
Thousand things running through his head, how is this bridge path still standing with giant creatures like that? Wouldn’t they of run through it or destroyed it by now. That thing was probably 3,000 years old, long before the first era.
Shaking his head thinking, what the hell am I talking about. That thing could be a year old and shits monkeys for all I know. Frustrated he quickens the pace.
Now on the edge of pure frustration and exhaustion, it had to be around 8 hours, a streak of light can be seen. It juts into the dark mist, and it is illuminating some area on the ground straight ahead.
As chance is walking he notices the bridge’s construction and change looks. From a medium plain grey, in a matter of a few stones it turns to a bright washed yellow, the railings turned to a fancy one and the stones are rounded and shined.
Seeing his destination just a few minute walk from him, he mutters, “ahhh, Godhaven.”
Poof!
And like that he is gone. The Champion who just walked 8 hours straight vanishes with the smallest plume of smoke.
Chapter 16 – Unanswered Questions
Hillside was bustling with guards and people. Tents line the town wall and all the way down to the main road. The small town is no-vacancy, as the guards are not allowing anyone who is not necessary, or lives there in. Leaders yelling orders, subordinates completing tasks and an all around massive busy time for this small town in Magus Orion.
A woman strides out of Hillside, and shifts between tents and coverings. A hood drawn, flowing armor and one hell of a head of steam. She knifes her way through and into a particular tent.
“What the hell are you doing here, I went looking for you a few days ago at your place. Dammit Velencia, why didn’t you tell me you were heading here?” Khamyra barbs to the Priestess, with a bit of anger and frustration. The Warlock slams her hand down on a table, inside a tent that is buried in the hundreds outside Hillsides walls.
Under a hood, a smirk forms and the Priestesses face comes into light, “Brown eyes, calm down will you? You’re always so wound up now-a-days. Ever since you met Chump.”
Khamyra takes a step back, and Rawek, who was quiet in the corner of the tent, trying to stay warm takes notice, “oh (chirp) boy, here we go…” he says quietly.
Pointing in a random direction, the Warlocks eyes flare, “my husband has been gone for over two and a half weeks, hell it might be three? Black Ward is as useful as a pimple on a warthogs ass for anything, why do they even exist? The Dark Society is scattered to the wind and you are never home anymore. Where is Chance, what is he doing and for fucks sake, is he even alive?!?!”
The High Priestess of Finster is getting a bit annoyed and worried about her surroundings. “Brown eyes, the Black Ward is never going to tell you anything, the Dark Society has moved on, you moved blondie and the kids into the inner gates of Camerondale and I was on my way here already. Rawek care to add anything?”
The Kenku smiles as only a bird like creature can, “he is alive. That is all I know right now,” he finishes, suppressing a squawk in case of anyone listening in.
“How do you know? You know what, I don’t care how you know, can you tell me where he is? One day he leaves for a simple sit and guard task assigned by King Bozo-face and the next fucking thing I know he is heading to the goddamn under-earth looking for some shit that I have to use to kill some..” Khamyra yelling, ranting, arms flailing about and tries to continue but gets interrupted.
Velencia grabs her arm, through her teeth, “Khamyra, I usually enjoy your little tirades but this one I am stopping. Calm. The. Fuck. Down. Now. We are not in our homes or in my compound, tents are nothing and ears are sharp,” she says with a hiss, “now is not the time to lose your apples.”
The Onyx Elf yanks away with a huff, and turns to the door to the tent, shaking her head. “Why were you heading here? Did Chance tell you he was coming to Hillside? or was there another reason?”
Velencia’s eyes flare a bit, glad that her friend has her back to her and missed that. She turns, grabs a jug and takes a long drink, holding it deciding whether or not to take another slug. “Finster said I might be needed here,” she finally replies to the question.
Dipping her head again, slowly shaking it, the Warlock continues, “might, you, might, be needed. For what? Picking apples? Shining boots? Kicking puppies?!?” she finishes somewhat loudly.
The tent grows silent again when Velencia slams the pitcher down making some of the wine splash out. Her patience is paper thin, friend or not she needs to calm down, now.
“Do you have any idea where he might be Rawek?” Khamyra asks, not turning around knowing she is making the Priestess frustrated and angry.
The Kenku and Velencia exchange glances and both nod their head.
“The fires Warlock, the fires,” he says softly and somewhat reluctantly.
Turning around with a confused look on her face, “The… fires? What the hell are the fires?” she retorts quickly.
Velencia scoffs to the unapproving look of Khamyra, “Funny you mention hell, the Fires are, well… hell.”
The tent turns quiet, the Warlock eyes huge, starting to shake a little, her head dipping down.
“He is alive, I know it. But I do not know more than that,” Rawek says softly breaking the silence.
Mumbling, “you keep saying that bird. Then you come up with another bit of information. Just great, alive. In hell. How can anyone survive hell?” the Onyx Elf says slowly, shaking her head.
The Priestess puts her arm around the Warlock, “come on now, Chump will make it through. I have been rooting for him to die since I met him and he keeps coming back stronger and stronger to annoy the ever-loving fuck out of me,” finishing off with a bit a whip, in hopes to cheer her up, “if he can survive me… he can survive hell.”
A soft snort comes from the Onyx elf glancing up at the Priestess, “You have a point, but ‘who’ will actually be coming home? I can’t imagine hell is a stroll in the park, that kind of thing usually burns into you.”
Rawek, disguises his reaction knowing what Khamyra is saying is unfortunately very true most of the time.
Chapter 17 – Ikon
“hmmm, odd. You look nothing like your father,” a man with white hair, simple white clothing, a rotund body and glowing eyes says to the Champion as he awakens, “That is pretty interesting considering elves dominate the genes, and…”
Chance leans up from what was a slanted bed of flowers, herbs, moss and a tree. “Where in Finster’s broom closet am I?” He blurts out, glancing around and then back to the man.
“Finster, interesting I guess it was bound to happen. Animax is old news you know,” the man says with a smile on his face, stops dramatically and chuckles to himself, “you do know, don’t you.”
In the distance a vision of the most exotic trees, bushes, plants, animals, waterfalls, mountains, hillsides and everything one can imagine there. Beautiful creatures grazing, birds flying, tweeting and what seems the perfect weather.
“Ikon, you are Ikon,” Chance mumbles still in awe of his surroundings, trying to stand from the leaning bed.
He turns around with a bit of flourish, “why yes I am! Just stay sitting son, we won’t be too long.”
Chance’s eyebrow raises, chuckles and sits back down.
Ikon lets out a laugh, “I did not think that is what the girls say about you…”
Knowing mind reading and the like, the Champion just squints, rubs his neck where his tattoo is and sighs.
“Don’t much like the reading of the minds I see,” Ikon replies, pacing in front of the young man, “Sorry…”
But the man with white hair gets interrupted by Chance, “I know I know, it’s who you are, yada yada yada.”
Blushing a bit, smile forming on his face, “are you a mind reader as well?” he responds with a chuckle.
“No, good friends of mine are like that, got a tat to stop it and I really like no one reading my mind,” Chance finishes off, heavy on the latter part of the sentence, driving home the point.
Gives the white haired man a look, “wait, I was just walking and…”
“You appeared here? Yeah I know, I just…” Ikon went to finish but he as well got interrupted.
Clearing of the throat, and a stern look, the quarter elf responds, “can I at least finish my sentences? Even if it is, a foregone conclusion?”
A little embarrassed, and telling that this humanoid is at his last wit, the white haired man nods his head.
He grabs a bag off a tree stump, hands it to Chance, “this is what you came down for, it’s godmud, but I am guessing you don’t need it much anymore.”
Chance takes it and smiles, “thank you, I will still take it, my wife will love to have some.”
“Ahhh the Warlock, really the only one still. Powerful woman and she will… well, anyways,” Ikon says stopping a bit short, turning to the Quarter elf.
“She, will, what?” Chance says, turning his eyes to slits.
Shaking his head, “ah, ah, ah! Can’t tell you that, could cause some issues. But I will tell you what, we have very important information to discuss.”
The Champion scrunches his brow, “we do? About what may I ask?”
A big smile washes over his face and Ikon replies, “oh, very, important things.”
He snaps his finger…