by Daniel Heck
That digit is even, including zero.
That digit is odd.
You return to the main chamber, where you re-evaluate your options.
What do you do?
I enter the ascending passage again.
I examine the door to the left.
I test the key in the door.
You land where the ground starts to soften, near the edge of a moss-ridden pond. Here, a breeze makes a patch of cattails bob sideways in a rhythmic pattern. Frogs, crickets and other wildlife combine to make an unearthly racket, but otherwise the area comes across as strangely peaceful.
All three of you dismount, then fit a mask to your faces. The dragons rest on a patch of solid ground, conversing and waiting for your return. You pat them each on the head in thanks.
“Let’s hope this doesn’t cover as many acres as it looked like from the sky…” you tell the others as you scan the trees’ long, ominous shadows. Galumnuk grunts and pounds his chest. “We find sage. Galumnuk know.”
With that, you enter the swamp.
Hours of sloshing later, you’ve just about pushed yourselves to the limit, yet have found nothing meaningful. The setting sun gives way to dusk. Soon, you won’t be able to continue searching without risking setting foliage aflame with a torch.
You feel a tug on your arm. Next to you, Celestine gazes into your eyes with a desperate look. She still wears her mask, but her face has taken on a sickly green tint.
“The antitoxins are wearing off,” she warns. “We need to end this.” Indeed, your stomach also starts to send warnings. Nausea creeps in, followed by dizziness.
“Galumnuk,” you call out, realizing you don’t see the orcblood. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I find two choices!” he shouts back. “Come quick!”
You follow the voice until you see that, just ahead, the path solidifies somewhat and leads to a decrepit, windowless wooden hut. Off to the side but many yards further, light streams from a clearing, in which stronger winds might keep away the toxins.
Where do you seek shelter?
We enter the mysterious hut.
We press onward toward the clearing.
You return to the main chamber, where you re-evaluate your options.
What do you do?
I enter the ascending passage now.
I try to open the door to the left.
I examine the door first.
While the magical word scrawled across the parchment might come in handy later, something deep inside urges you to have another go. You spin the wheel again, and feel the corresponding burst of energy all over again, yet still stand entranced as the mechanism slows… and slows some more…
The wheel stops with the section holding the boots facing you. The item glows blue for a moment, then just sits there. You reach forward and attempt to raise the boots. The magical bond has broken; nothing holds them down. You exhale hard, letting the drama diminish some.
You sit on a nearby rock, remove your own footwear and try the boots on. Somehow, they fit perfectly, and you can feel energy pulse through your legs and feet, granting you extra agility and speed.
Nice! Who knows whether I’ll need all three? you ask yourself. But when, on the other hand, will luck betray me?
What do you do?
I spin the wheel yet again.
I leave the chamber.
You find the simple white gravestone immediately. Tilted slightly, it stands, as it always has since a certain fateful day, at the northernmost end of a row honoring clergymen and other champions of good.
As a spring breeze stings your cheeks, you steel your jaw. Without averting your gaze, you reach into your belt pouch and retrieve a talisman in the shape of a radiating sun.
He used this in so many ways… for so very much good.
You hold the talisman to your heart and read the stone:
Here rests Bartleby of Whitetail.
May his compassion and wisdom persist through the ages.
You reflect, thinking back to the cave in which your love lost his life while protecting you. The split-second decision… how he shielded you from the blast that Xelbane caused when he crushed a magically enchanted idol into shards… the blackened flesh and unbearable shouts of agony…
You do not cry. Your role demands that you stay strong.
To think that that dragon was merely singed…
An idea strikes you. You remove your sandals and kneel, the well-kept grass brushing the tops of your feet like a gentle woolen scarf.
“My love,” you whisper, “Is it wrong of me to enjoy these creatures? Our society has come so far in such a short while…”
You pause. Slowly, the silent surroundings envelop your soul, and you feel his spirit.
Head lowered, you struggle to find the words.
“I know… you have never truly left me.”
You stand and return to your home just outside the City of Storms. You sleep that night and late into the next morning with trepidation in your heart, dreading your return to the daily grind.
Isn’t there something more to all this?
That night, a dream rattles your sleep: Bartleby’s face, larger than life-size, stares at you, trying to communicate, but with no audible words. To the side of this image, a dragon flies with your former love atop it, but his eyes look different than you’d expect. There is no joy in them.
You awaken, sit up and clean your forehead of sweat.
A musing of the gods, you theorize, have it meaning or not.
You return to slumber, only to hear a raucous rap upon your door in the late morning. Groggy, you squint toward the entryway and get up, your knees still aching from the regatta.
“Titania!”
You recognize the voice and open the door. There stands Celestine, with a look of panic and amazement upon her face.
“What is it?” you ask, “What’s going on?”
“Titania, you won’t believe what I discovered when the dragons took me to their homeland!” Her hands flail about wildly as she speaks in a half-shout.
“I’d suppose not, Celestine,” you reply with a yawn, “was it a new form of exotic plant life? Treasures beyond your wildest dreams?”
“Exactly the opposite.”
This news snaps you out of your fatigue.
“What do you mean?”
“Everything meaningful in their homeland has been ravaged, nay, completely destroyed, Titania! Bushes burned to ash, golden coins melted into pools of acidic yellow mush. And I heard a noise from deep within, like something very bad was still there… waiting for us…”
Your jaw droops in shock and you cover your mouth. A tense moment passes.
“Did you see what it was?”
“No. I ran, got back on Vanadu and ordered him to hightail it out of there. I came to you because, well, you’re my friend and I don’t know what else to do, who to tell, or where to go to do something about it! And… and…” Celestine starts drawing in huge breaths and fanning herself.
You place a hand on her arm. “Now, don’t panic. I’m just glad you appear to be okay.”
She nods. “I’m okay. But none of us might be for long.”
“Why?”
She gulps. “Etched into the stone near the dragons’ cave was… a skull. With a dagger piercing it.”
You frown, as memories and a familiar air of danger resurface within. “Thomerion…”
Celestine shouts, “Truly! Why would his worshippers hurt these poor dragons?”
“Hush, now…. Stay calm.”
Celestine clears her throat, nods and recomposes herself.
“And…” she continues, “I found something you might be familiar with.”
You arch an eyebrow as your friend retrieves a scrap of tattered white cloth from a pocket. By the look of one edge, it was likely torn from something bigger of the same make.
You rub it between two fingers. “This looks,” you theorize, "… and feels… like priests’ vestme
nts.”
What is going on?
“I had a vision last night,” you share, “and I suspect this is all connected in some way. For now, we need to gather more information.”
Celestine nods in agreement. Where you would go depends on how much risk you’re willing to take on and how much time you’re able to spend: the temple of the sun seems like a natural place at first, given the evidence. You frown when you remember that the church knows you had an illicit relationship with one of its clergymen.
Where do you go?
I locally consult the church of the sun.
I trek to the Pig’s Foot Inn and Tavern in Whitetail.
Not wanting to stop with just one item, you spin the wheel again, and feel a slight dizziness all over again, yet still stand frozen as the turning plate slows… and slows some more… and finally…
The wheel stops with the section holding the boots facing you. The ornate item of clothing glows blue for a moment, then just sits there.
You reach forward and gingerly attempt to raise the boots. Their magical bond has broken; nothing holds them down. You take them, sit down on a nearby rock and try them on.
At first, the boots seem perfectly normal. But soon, you feel a burst of magical energy flowing through them into your feet and legs, granting you extra speed and agility.
Titania, you lucky duck! you congratulate yourself. Dare I try for more?
What do you do?
I spin the wheel yet again.
I leave the chamber.
Your group prepares for inspection of the Litherion River by purchasing some spare supplies, and you summon patience as Fedwick suffers some temporary confusion about how to pack it all. After you pass through the northwest city gate, however, finding the riverbank takes almost no time at all, even while taking the dwarf’s slower gait into account.
You split up and each hike in a different section along the water’s edge, visually scanning for anything matching a bluish, seaweed-like description. Taking care to keep the others in your field of view, you kneel, lean forward into the water and brush some submerged stones. A patch of moss sticks to your fingertips, but lifting it out of the water for a closer inspection reveals that it’s just perfectly normal, green plant life. Time crawls by, and the sun soon passes its highest point, destined to set sooner than later.
I wish we had a little more information than just that this ‘youth herb’ grows in water…
“Titania! Fedwick!”
You glance up and cast your gaze about, to note that Celestine is nowhere to be found. Her voice came from behind a patch of evergreen trees that brush close to the riverbank to the south. Your friend’s tone sounded urgent.
You stand and start to run. “I’m coming!”
Around a dogleg and many yards further west stands a wooden dam. Water pools before it yet flows through in spots at inconsistent rates. A large swath of beavers climbs all over it, chewing, replacing sticks and trying to repair the leaks even as a gang of kobolds harass them, tossing stones and kicking at the dam’s foundations. One beaver screeches and attempts to smack a kobold with its tail, but the monster quickly steps back and thumbs its nose at the mammal.
Celestine stands at a distance, and notices you closing in. “Just look at what’s happening there! Poor animals…”
Fedwick appears not to have heard Celestine’s call. An inclination to help rises within you. On the other hand, you think you heard some rustling from within a nearby tree, and maybe even saw a well-camouflaged pair of eyes, watching you. If it were that important, anyone nearby would have involved themselves by now.
What do you do?
We chase away the kobolds!
We mind our own business and continue the search for youth herb.
You return to the main chamber, where you re-evaluate your options.
What do you do?
I enter the ascending passage after all.
I try to open the door to the left.
I examine the door first.
You dive deep within your heart for spiritual guidance, one last time. An inclination hits you; something about what you’ve been through up until now says to repeat the incantation six times, an instruction you immediately share with Fedwick.
He nods with force, clears his throat, spits a loogie and begins in hushed tones:
“Bonshan ere du Voltra kahn…
Bonshan ere du Voltra kahn!
Bonshan ere du Voltra kahn!!
BONSHAN ERE DU VOLTRA KAHN!”
The dwarf now stomps his feet as he shouts the words, living them through every bone and muscle in his body. He extends his hands palms-up, which start to emanate a red glow. Celestine covers her mouth in astonishment. Your pulse races and your head goes light.
“BONSHAN ERE DU VOLTRA KAHN!”
….
Time seems to stand still.
Then, Bartleby’s godfather whispers…
“Bonshan. Ere. Du voltra…
Kahn.”
Instead of seeing anything happen to Bartleby, to your surprise, his talisman starts to glow, emanating an intense white light.
Words enter your head, as if in some mystical way beyond explanation, the talisman speaks to you. But you’re not quite sure what to make of what it says.
After listening for a few more moments, you get the impression there is one more step to take, and that it’s up to you to take it.
Me? You ask it. Why me? I don’t have any magical ability. I only ever kept you because…
Fedwick and Celestine exchange wary glances.
Your thoughts trail into nothingness, as uncertainty creeps into your heart.
What do you do to complete the exorcism?
I burn the talisman as a symbolic sacrifice.
I attempt to channel divine energy through the talisman.
Your excitement heightens with each item you earn, and you figure at this point that you might as well go for a clean sweep. You grip the wheel, and spin yet again…
Look up again at the nearest digital timepiece. Add together the ones digit in the hours and the ones digit in the minutes, then follow the corresponding link below.
The sum is less than 5.
The sum is between 5 and 9 inclusive.
The sum is greater than 9.
So that’s what this journey is about…
You are ready. To let go.
Wary of how much longer the tranquilizer will hold Bartleby still, you reach into your pack, retrieve flint and with a strike against the Arch create just enough of a spark to set a corner of the wooden talisman aflame. The fire quickly spreads along its surface, so you gingerly lay it upon the occupied body’s chest.
For a moment, nothing happens.
Then, energy flows in a tremendous burst from the burning talisman into the occupied body, which twitches and convulses until its teeth clatter. A scream emerges from its mouth, then a purple spirit starts to ooze from its head!
The skeletal visage of Thomerion, complete with dagger piercing its bare skull, pulls backward, trying in desperation to retain its mortal coil. It struggles for several moments, but to no avail. Having completely separated from Bartleby’s corpse, it now floats with a look of utter rage.
“You have not heard the last! You have not heard the last!” It cackles madly, just before a burst of wind from the cavern entrance disperses the spirit into eternity.
Peace prevails. All is silent.
Celestine erupts with joy, pumping her fist and skipping in circles. Fedwick smiles, his arms crossed, while gazing into the sky. You think for a moment he might even be reminiscing about old friends and even older military days. But then, you turn your attention to Bartleby.
The others notice and huddle around you. Without a word, you reach toward your lover’s forehead and make above it a sacred sign with your thumb, anointing his memory as having served its purpose.
Then, after another several moments, you kneel, and cry. For the first time, you let the grief com
pletely conquer you, bursting in waves from your very core, seeming to go on forever until your muscles quiver and your eyes burn. The others stand beside you, each with a gentle hand on a respective shoulder.
You take some time to calm yourself and catch your breath. Then, you look into Bartleby’s closed eyes, stroke his ashen hair, and half-smile.
“My love,” you say, “Let’s take you to where you belong.”
With help from your friends and your dragons, you haul Bartleby’s charred body back to the mainland, and then to the Whitetail graveyard, where his headstone still stands, guarding.
You bury him and reverently pat the grass near the north end of his plot. Slowly, you stand, and your companions move in for a group hug.
“Life…” you ponder aloud, “goes on. Does it not?”
You have rid Ambrosinia of Thomerion’s wrath!
Keep reading The Wrath of Thomerion for more endings.
Your excitement heightens with each item you earn, and you figure at this point that you might as well go for a clean sweep. You grip the wheel, and spin yet again…