by Dale Britton
"Found George," she said.
"Yrabelle?" George murmured.
"We're looking for her," Ollie said. "Are you okay?"
George scrambled awkwardly to his feet. "Don't worry about me," he mumbled. He started stumbling around calling out the elf girl's name. "Yrabelle!"
"George," Ollie whispered harshly, grabbing his friend. It was like trying to stop a freight train. "You have to be quiet. It isn't over. The cat people are here, and they're fighting the demons. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."
But even as he said this, he realized that the sounds of fighting had stopped. The room was filled with an eerie silence. Everybody froze in place and held their breaths. Even George managed to regain his senses, finally understanding the precariousness of their situation. They were not alone in the room–but who were their companions? Who had won the battle? Was it the demons or the cat people? And did it even matter?
"I wish we could see," Sarah whispered.
As if in response, a soft violet light appeared a short distance away and slowly expanded to fill the room, allowing the teens to finally see the aftermath of the battle. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Most of them were demons–dozens of misshapen black masses covering nearly every square inch of the floor–but there were also several cat people lying among them.
The light was coming from a huge gem on the end of an ornate staff held by an ancient-looking cat person wearing an embroidered cloak. He was surrounded by about twenty others of his race, many of which carried spears. These were unlike the other cat people the party had seen during their time in the dungeon. They looked fierce and dangerous, especially with their yellow eyes gleaming in the violet light. They almost looked like demons themselves.
George searched the room, getting more and more frantic by the second. He lifted the body of a large bear-like demon and threw it across the room in frustration.
"Where is she?" he pleaded, tears streaming from his eyes.
Ollie spotted Yrabelle's light a few feet away. It was badly cracked, but when he spoke the activation spell the familiar white light formed and added its brightness to that of the cat person's staff.
But there was no sign of Yrabelle.
The old cat person approached, holding out his arms in a gesture of peace.
"I am sorry," he said in a gravelly voice. Ollie was surprised to hear the creature speak. He didn't know that the cat people were able to speak English, or common tongue, or whatever it was called here. "Your companion is gone."
Ollie felt a chill. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"
"She was taken. A number of the dark ones escaped us. They will take your female elf to their mines."
"Yrabelle!" George shouted, but he got no response. He stalked around the room, kicking demon bodies and shouting for the elf girl.
"She's alive, George," Sarah said, grabbing his arm. "You heard what the nice old cat person said, right? She's not dead. We can still help her."
George turned and glared at her, and his expression caused her to recoil. When she had first met this little group of friends in Ian's basement playing their game, she would never have thought that little George would ever be capable of instilling this much fear in her. But now–he was scary. At this moment she would much rather have to face one of the demons.
"I will find her," George said, his voice barely above a whisper, "and I will make those monsters pay for everything they do to her."
Sarah had no doubt he was telling the truth.
Chapter Eighty-Six
"I am named Miirwar," the leader of the cat people said. His voice had a strange silky quality. It reminded Ollie of, well, a cat. "We have been watching you. We have deemed you worthy."
Several of the cat people had begun to tend to their dead and injured, and to pile the demon bodies up against the far wall. Six cat people had been killed in the battle, and several more had suffered serious wounds.
"We thank you for your help," Ollie said. "And I am sorry for your loss. We would have died if you hadn't come when you did."
"We were required to help you," Miirwar replied. "The gods have revealed to me that you are the saviors of our people. You are our only hope for survival against the demon lord."
"Whoa, slow down there," Sarah said. "You just saw what great warriors we are. We literally wouldn't have survived this battle without your help."
"Maybe so," Miirwar said, "but your small group destroyed the greater part of the hoard before my people arrived. You are indeed sent by the gods."
George could barely contain his emotions. "Look," he said through clenched teeth. "We have to find Yrabelle. Now. She could be suffering. They might..."
Ollie put his arm around George's shoulder. "You're right, George. We have to find her, but we can't just rush off. You know Sarah and I are worried about her too, right?"
George stared for a second, then nodded silently. There were streaks trailing down his face from where his tears had fallen.
"We have to stick to the plan. It's the only way we can save her. We have to find Alakabal's tower and beat him before he's ready to open the portal." It sounded silly to Ollie when he said it out loud. Beat a demon lord? They had barely survived a fight with his minions.
"Then what do we do?" Sarah asked. "The chest was empty. Are we going to have to search this whole dungeon? We don't even know what we're looking for."
Ollie sighed. It did seem hopeless. How much time did they have left? Why had the map brought them to this place? There had to be something here, but what?
"Perhaps I may help," Miirwar said. "As you may know, our race was once a great and proud people. Before the last demon war, we occupied much of this northern region. Alas, the greatest part of our people was killed by the armies of demons. We have been reduced to small colonies scattered hither and yon. Our influence in the world has waned to almost nothing."
Ollie tried to think about what he knew about the history of the cat people. It wasn't much. They were stock characters in the game–not creatures that were made up by Ollie and his friends. He knew the cat people had participated in the last demon war. They had fought side by side with the other races. In fact...
Ollie caught his breath, struck by a sudden realization. The cat people had done more than just fight in the last demon war. Much more.
"However," Miirwar continued, "I believe we may still be useful in this endeavor."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small bag, about the size of a loaf of bread. He handed the bag to Ollie. It was heavy. Ollie reverently untied the strings and opened it, reached inside, and pulled out a metal object. It was made of gold with inlaid silver. It was shaped somewhat like a cross, but with strange patterns swirling around it in every direction. At least twenty gems of various colors were set at random places on the strange device. Ollie didn't know what any of the patterns or the gems were for, but he could sense that this was a powerful magical item. Unfortunately, he could also tell it wasn't complete. There was something missing. His eyes were drawn to a large empty space in the exact center of the cross.
"What is it?" Sarah asked.
"Unless I'm mistaken," Ollie said, "this is the talisman the five races created to banish the demon lord from this world. This is what we came here for."
"You are correct." Miirwar nodded his head in approval. "It was left in our care after the war. It was one of our wizards who devised the magic for the talisman, and much of the work was done by our people."
"It's beautiful," Sarah said.
"But it's incomplete," Ollie said.
Miirwar nodded again. "Yes. It requires a special fire gem, the source of its power. It was lost many years ago. But you shall find it. So say the gods."
Ollie pulled the map out of his pocket, unfolded it, and looked at the last mark. It was only about twenty miles away from the dungeon. "Yes. I think we will."
Chapter Eighty-Seven
The roar of the great waterfall was constant background noise as th
e small party made their way south along the western shore of the lake. It was so cold now that ice had begun to form on the water. The party moved slowly along the uneven ground and rode huddled in their blankets to make up for their lack of warm clothes. The vegetation was beginning to be affected by the unseasonable cold. The leaves on the trees were freezing, and plants shriveled and wilted. Before long many of them would die. There was no birdsong. The birds had all fled to seek a warmer climate.
"How will we get to the island?" Ian asked. Their destination was clearly visible now. They were close enough to see trees on the island and what looked like a large hill in its center.
"If this weather keeps up, we'll be able to walk there," Johnny said.
"There will be a way," Lylor assured them. "Throughout the centuries, many have come to this place seeking wisdom. Others came to profit from the seekers. Although the island has now mostly been forgotten, there will be remnants."
Lylor proved to be right. After another fifteen minutes of riding, a small group of buildings became visible on the shore of the lake, positioned directly opposite the location of the island. There wasn't any movement among them. In fact, the closer the party got to the structures the lonelier and more deserted they looked.
"Have you been here before?" Ian asked.
Lylor shook his head. "I have traveled to this side of the lake, but my journeys have always taken me farther west. It would have never occurred to me to visit this place." Lylor looked at the buildings, an odd expression forming on his face. "What are those strange objects?"
The others looked where Lylor was pointing, but their eyes weren't as keen as the elf's.
"What do you see?" Johnny asked.
Lylor stared at the little village. "They look like little creatures. Almost gnome-like, but with longer beards and much more colorful habits."
"Oh, great," Ian said. "I hate George."
"You recognize these creatures?" Lylor asked, and then shook his head ruefully. "But of course you do."
"Animated garden gnomes," Ian said.
"They're really slow," Johnny said. "But they almost killed us the first time we fought them. We didn't know they were explosive."
"Explosive? Like a magical blast?"
"More like dynamite," Johnny said. "We should be fine as long as we don't get too close. Just pick up some rocks."
"Why not just use the bow?" Jordan asked.
"I will if I have to, but I don't want to lose any more arrows if I can help it."
The party paused to gather some stones from the shore of the lake, then cautiously approached the buildings. Before long, the humans were able to make out the brightly painted garden gnomes scattered around the little town. Lylor's description was accurate. They looked like little wooden statues with long white beards. Technically they were golems–figures animated by magic. Leave it to George to come up with something so goofy, yet so dangerous.
"What are they doing here?" Johnny wondered.
"Does it really matter?" Ian said. "Is there ever a reason for stuff like this?"
"Not in the game," Johnny admitted, "but here? Doesn't it seem strange that a whole hoard of animated creatures would just be hanging out in the middle of nowhere?"
"Let's worry about that later," Jordan said. "Right now, we have to destroy them."
The party approached the gnomes cautiously. When they were about thirty feet away, the creatures magically came to life and slowly began to converge on them. There was something undefinably unnerving about the sight of dozens of garden gnomes slowly shuffling toward the group, their painted faces devoid of expression.
"Get them!" Johnny shouted. "Don't let them get close."
The battle was over incredibly quickly. The party's first volley of rocks hit several of the creatures, shattering three of them. The resulting explosions started a chain reaction that didn't stop until every single gnome had disappeared in a huge burst of smoke and flame. The force of the blasts destroyed a small building that was too close and also pushed the group back several yards. Fortunately, they were far enough away to escape injury. When the smoke cleared, it revealed a small crater at the place where the gnomes had stood.
Lylor stared at the destruction, shaking his head. "If one were to attack a creature such as that with a sword..."
"He'd be blown to smithereens," Ian said.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
The party did a quick search of the abandoned settlement but did not find any more of the explosive creatures. They did find a small boathouse that contained several log rafts and an assortment of oars and poles.
"Here is our means of reaching the island," Lylor said.
Ian stared at the ancient-looking rafts and shook his head. "I think I might rather face the mind crab again."
One of the buildings was a small stable which seemed strong enough to keep out most normal wild animals and creatures, and the group decided to leave their horses there while they went to the island. It was risky, but there was no way the horses would be able to ride on the rafts with the humans, and it would be far riskier to leave one of their group alone.
"The demons are focused on us," Lylor reasoned. "The horses are probably safer if they are separated from our group. With luck, we will be back before nightfall. If not, well, in general, demons are not very intelligent. I doubt they will see the benefits of depriving us of our mounts. They will most likely follow us to the island."
It sounded logical. More importantly, there was really nothing else they could do.
After making the horses as secure and comfortable as possible, the party returned to the boathouse. Lylor selected the most sound of the rafts and he and Ian dragged it to the end of the dock. Some of the bindings had become loose and a few had broken completely, but Lylor was able to tighten them or replace them with extra pieces found in the boathouse. Soon the raft was floating in the water and the group was on their way.
The water was a deep blue, making it impossible to see the bottom of the lake. At first, they could use the poles to move, but soon they were forced to switch to oars as the water deepened.
Jordan looked over the side, and she noticed movement below the raft in the water–the movement of something big.
"What lives in this lake?" she asked nervously.
"Countless fish," Lylor said. "My people often come to the southern shores to catch them. However, we never enter the water."
"Why not?" Ian asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew.
"Many of the lake creatures are dangerous. It is not worth the risk for a swim."
"But of course, a raft is perfectly fine," Ian said under his breath.
"Shut up and paddle," Johnny said, earning a murderous look from his brother.
Something large bumped into the raft a few times as they crossed the short distance to the island, but otherwise, they made the trip without any trouble. Now that they were actually standing on the island it seemed much larger than it had from a distance, even more so than would be expected from normal tricks of perspective. The few trees they had seen from shore were now a forest, and the hill at the center was a veritable mountain.
"Are we sure this is the island?" Jordan asked. "We didn't cross the whole lake, did we?"
"No," Lylor said. "This is indeed our destination. Our path was unerring."
"It's like Doctor Who," Johnny said. "Bigger on the inside."
"Doctor Who?" Lylor asked, then shook his head in resignation. "Something from your world, I don't wonder." He glanced around at their surroundings. "I no longer doubt the magic of this place. Can you not feel it? The energy here is palpable."
"It's creepy," Jordan said. "It's oppressive. I feel like someone is staring at me."
"Maybe someone is." Ian looked around uncomfortably. "Let's find this magic pool thing and get out of here."
"Were you planning to do something like this for your campaign?" Johnny asked. "Magic seeing pool, like in Lord of the Rings?"
Ian shook his h
ead. "No, I didn't plan it this far ahead. But it's a neat idea. I wonder what we'll see."
"We must first find the pool," Lylor said. "And we must not treat this island lightly. There is danger here, though I know not what form it may take. We must be on our guard."
"Um, guys," Jordan said quietly. "Look."
The others turned to look at where Jordan was staring.
"Yellow bricks?" Johnny said. "Really?"
Where moments ago there had been only sand and trees, a path had appeared which led toward the center of the island. A path that was indeed made of golden bricks that glowed in the sunlight. It was beautiful, but also somehow sinister. It brought back the still fresh memories of the party's near-fatal encounter with the mind crab.
"Is this an invitation?" Ian asked. "Or a trap?"
"Maybe both," Johnny said. He tried to see where the path led, but it curved after a short distance making it impossible to look very far.
"I have never heard any tale of a golden path," Lylor said. "Though admittedly most of those who return from this island have a difficult time speaking of what they have seen here."
For almost a minute, the four friends just stood and stared at the new road, maybe expecting it to disappear just as it had appeared.
"What should we do?" Ian said, breaking the silence. "I don't know if I trust that thing."
"I think we should take it," Jordan said. "It's just a feeling, but I don't think it wants to hurt us."
"I do not sense any evil," Lylor said. "I am inclined to agree. We must find the pool, and here a path presents itself."
Johnny looked at Ian, who reluctantly nodded his head.
"I don't like it, but I think they're right."
Johnny turned back to the yellow brick road. "Well alrighty then. I guess we're off to see the wizard."