Lore/Story Scourge

Which google doc? I have about 5 of them (most of them are unused now) related to this story.
And the answer is most probably no; sorry.

 

It's fine, I don't need a doc. I wanted to view the story without scrolling through each post.

 

BUMP: more more more!!!!

 

Well, this took a while to make.
I actually redid the second half, so that probably was one of the reasons it took so long.
There's also the general fact that this has the second highest word count of any chapter in the story so far.
There are a lot of important things going on in this milestone.
But I won't say anything.
So no TL;DRs for you.

................OOX
Chapter XXX
................OXO
Duel at Dusk​

Sorry, I just had to make a tic-tac-toe joke.​

Fahim slowly leaned the door shut. Focusing his gaze across Detlas, he immediately identified the hourglass tower standing tall at the center of the city. “Where would he be right now…?” he said.


He snapped his fingers and held up his other hand, which contained an envelope. He broke into a run, shoving a villager man aside just before entering the high street. The bank was across the road, and the hourglass tower was to the right. Fahim turned left onto the street, but turned into an alley on the right seconds later. An inn stood alone between the bank and the wall, half concealed within the shadows. Fahim entered the inn.


The place was in a fairly shabby state; beds lined the walls, and the innkeeper was cleaning off a dusty bottle. The innkeeper took one look at Fahim before dropping the towel and the bottle, which smashed at the innkeeper’s feet. “I'll assume you're here for your money. I've finally found an emerald block that I can spare for you.”


Fahim paused. “There's no need for that; money is something I do not require,” he said. “But I do have something I do require from you.”


“I'll be glad to help you, as long as it doesn't damage me or my possessions,” the innkeeper grumbled as he began to sweep up the broken glass.


“I would like for you to send this letter to Llevigar. The receiver will already be waiting for it,” Fahim said, handing the innkeeper the envelope.


“That will be dealt with as soon as we are finished, sir,” he said, bowing to Fahim.


“And also, as you'd imagine, I would like my weapon back.”


The innkeeper stiffened. “That is quite a fine bow you have. Is it, by chance, an attempted replica of that one...Falcon thing I've heard about?”


“I do know a friend who has a knack for those weapons. He tried to clone their powers, but he did not succeed. He sent me what he had made, though. They are indeed very fine, though they aren't quite as powerful as the real ones,” Fahim said.


“Here's your bow,” the innkeeper said, bending down under the bar and pulling out a very large bow. “Have a good day, sir.”


Fahim reached over the counter and took the bow. “Thank you,” he said, then turned and exited the inn.


Slinging the bow over his back, he began to walk out into the high street of Detlas. Many people stopped and looked at him; seeing a bow as large or larger than the wielder was considered extraordinarily rare to most common citizens. Fahim took no notice; he proceeded to stroll down the high street, observing the buildings rather than what was directly in front of him. Several complained when he collided into them, but he ignored them. After thirty seconds of being surrounded by muttering and grumbling, he stepped into the hourglass tower.


There was a shop there, lined with bookshelves around the circular room, and an old villager stood behind a ring-shaped counter at the center of the store. “Ooh, that bow looks rare! Can I take a look at it?” the shopkeeper asked, his eyes fixed on Fahim’s weapon. “Please let me see that weapon!”


“You asked me that yesterday, and the answer is yet again no,” he replied, dodging out of the way from the villager’s groping hands. Fahim exited the building after making a very rude hand gesture at the shopkeeper.


A warrior with a full coat of gleaming armor looked at Fahim as he exited the hourglass tower. “Did the identifier try to take your weapon?” he asked. “He’s been obsessed over people’s gear lately. Keeps telling himself that he can sense something odd in town, and so he’s assuming that rumor is true about one of the Weapons being in Detlas. What sort of fool would believe that?”


“Most people who do business with weapons would believe that for the sake of profit,” Fahim replied before walking south down the road.


The warrior watched Fahim as he passed, and upon noticing the enormous bow said, “That is a nice weapon you have there. Are you really sure it isn’t the-”


Fahim answered quickly, “One might call it a mythical weapon, but only if you are seeking it for pleasure or proceeds. However, this is not a real mythical weapon; it is nothing but a failed duplicate of one.”


“Oh,” the warrior responded. “Oh.”


Fahim ignored the warrior and continued west down the street. He passed under the archway connecting two towers, and then shortly entered the underpass beneath the great Detlas wall. Some travelers came by in the opposite direction, gazing in awe at the hourglass tower that had just come into their view. Fahim ignored the oncoming people, and continued walking forward away from Detlas.


The underpass opened, and Fahim was greeted with a signpost saying, You are now leaving Detlas, and then Ragni west, and finally Nemract north. He kept walking forward, barely taking notice of the sign. Heading west, the walls of Detlas slowly grew smaller as their distance greatened. An apple orchard came up to Fahim’s right as he walked, but he did not pause until the swishing of a cloak emitted from behind him. He turned around to see a man wearing blue robes who had hair trailing past his waist. A sword was pointed at Fahim, and Fahim smiled.


“Hello, Elu,” Fahim said.


“You figured that out fast enough,” he said, sneering.


“I had thought you had died all those years ago. What did happen that night?” Fahim asked casually.


“Master L came along and revived me, and naturally, I had to be grateful,” he said, looking up into the sky as if out of devotion to Master L.


“Now that I remember, I did see something in the news post earlier today about a man in blue killing students of the Troms academy,” Fahim said, never once taking his eyes off the sword in front of him. “That’s not how you used to be, Elu.”


“Now that is a name I have not heard in a long time,” he said. “They call me Tollak now.”


“So it is,” Fahim paused. “You appear to be more aggressive in these days. Are you sure you want to battle me, though?”


Tollak sneered even more. “Bring it on.”


Fahim whipped the bow out from over his shoulder, and leapt high in the air. He sent three arrows flying before he touched the ground, all of which were directed towards Tollak, who dodged them.


“Not bad,” Fahim said. “But can you do any better?”


Tollak aimed a swift stab with his sword, but Fahim blocked it using his bow as a hand weapon. “Now that isn’t anything I’ve ever seen,” Tollak said. “But are you sure your bow can survive like that?”


Fahim blocked another attack before bashing the bow against Tollak’s head like a club. “Ow!” he yelled. “That wasn’t expected!”


Rather than responding, Fahim quickly sent another arrow at Tollak, who cut it midair by the shaft with his sword and, pulling out another blade at lightning speed, knocked the arrowhead into the ground at his feet. Fahim quickly ran forward and engaged Tollak in a melee fight rather than using arrows. Despite Tollak having two swords and Fahim having one bow, Fahim was gaining ground.


Tollak pulled back both swords and then aimed them both at the lower end of the bow. Both struck, but nothing else happened. “What?” Tollak said, dumbfounded. “A direct two-sword attack like that should have snapped your bow into pieces!”


“But this isn’t an ordinary bow, is it?” Fahim sneered.


“Oh!” Tollak yelled in triumph. “I get it now! That bow’s the-”


Fahim cut him off by raising his hand, in which a great gust of wind blew Tollak away, where he crashed into a small apple tree, knocking it over. The orchard owner immediately came running over. “My tree! My beautiful tree! You!” the orchard man roared. “You destroyed my tree! I’ll get you for this!” then he subsequently began beating Tollak with a rake.


Fahim laughed. Tollak rolled his eyes. “Thanks, but I’d rather not be defeated by an old man,” he said calmly, standing up and shoving the orchard owner aside with ease.


Fahim sprung forward quickly, and swung his bow twice in quick succession, hitting the side of Tollak’s head both times. Tollak responded by striking with his swords so fast that Fahim had barely blocked them all. A passerby heading down the trail to Detlas detoured a far way off the road to avoid the conflict.


“It has been a good fight,” yawned Fahim. “But I do wish that you would give up soon. Your attempts are beginning to bore me.”


“Since when did I not bore you?” Tollak responded. “You really haven’t changed an awful lot since I met you.”


Fahim leapt out of range from another of Tollak’s sword flurries. “On the contrary, I could not be more different than I was back then.”


Tollak laughed, letting his guard down. “Ha ha! Stop speaking figuratively. When I met you, you were the biggest-”


Fahim raised his right arm, and an updraft blew Tollak high into the air, well above the trees that dotted the Detlas Suburbs. His upward velocity came to a halt. “Whoa!” Tollak shouted. “I can see the Detlas bank from here!” and then he began losing altitude quickly. When Tollak hit the hard dirt and gravel path, a cloud of dust covered the road. Fahim lowered his bow.


“Have you given up yet, Elu?” Fahim asked.


The dust settled onto the ground, and Tollak was lying, face first, in the center of a shallow crater. He stood up and dusted off his robe before raising his swords in a defensive stance.


“No,” Tollak said calmly. “I’m just getting started, as one might say.”


He leapt in the air, raising both swords to be ready to strike at any moment. Fahim fired another arrow, which Tollak easily blocked before touching earth again. Sprinting forward, Tollak braced his weapons and swung both forward. Fahim easily blocked the oncoming attack using his bow, and Tollak retracted several feet away.


“I remember when you were younger,” Tollak said, breathing heavily. “You could have sliced me to bits five minutes ago. What happened?”


Fahim paused, and stood up as tall as he could to appear as large and mighty as possible. “I learned that violence and occasional murder is not the solution to every problem; a bad habit that you seem to have developed.”


“Oh, so I’m the bad guy now?” Tollak asked, somewhat mockingly.


“Why, yes, I would say that you are,” Fahim said without any hesitation.


“Ouch, that hurt,” Tollak said, pretending to recoil in pain. “I think you might have hurt me, those words. I could always cover my ears with something...but why not just cut your head off so that you can’t talk anymore?”


“And yet another example of you using violence as the one and only answer. Words can stop wars, and so can war itself, but words do not end innocent lives. You should remember that.”


Tollak began examining the back of his hand. “And philosophy is boring. Can we move on?” he asked, yawning.


Fahim walked forward slowly to Tollak. “Are you sure you don’t want to forfeit right now?” Fahim said. “Knowing your behavior and what you are likely going to do in the future, I may as well just finish you off this very moment.”


Tollak spun in a full circle before swinging his swords at high speed at Fahim, who raised his bow to block the attack. Fahim continued to shield every single strike of Tollak’s bombardment of sharp metal blades. Tollak stopped attacking, and stepped back.


“I can tell you still have it in you,” Tollak said.


“You can say that to yourself,” Fahim replied. “I know you are more than just a killer.”


“You’re wrong!” Tollak yelled bluntly, creating a moment of silence. Then he spoke again. “You’re wrong.”


Fahim paused and breathed deeply. “I do not believe that. Now, if I were to spare your life by walking away, would you feel devotion to me again? You’ve been blinded by your Master L.”


“And Master L only saw the truth because of you. If you didn’t exist, then I would have lived a perfectly normal life.”


“The truth is highly subjective,” Fahim said. “But the truth is that you are focusing too much on the past. What does the present and the future hold? Nothing, until it is created.”


Tollak sighed. “And here you go on again about all that deep philosophy stuff. Now you listen; if I wanted to hear someone drone on and on, then I would have befriended Doctor Urelix.”


“The Iron Golem manufacturer has nothing to do with any of us!” Fahim said strongly. “What matters is you right now, and nothing else. Leave Master L, and see the light again. Forget that you have ever met that person, and live on!”


“Stop trying to persuade me!” Tollak yelled in response. “I can choose my own path!”


“But your path intrudes the path of others. That should not be happening,” Fahim said.


Tollak paused for a moment, thinking. “But if you’re telling me to stop intruding the paths of others, then aren’t you intruding my path?” he said before glaring at Fahim as if to say, “I win.”


Fahim stood still. “If you believe so,” he said after a brief silence. “We could go on like this forever, but I really do believe that we should stop this fight before it drags on for far too long. After all, the sun is already setting.” he pointed west, where the sun was beginning to dip under the horizon.


“But who is going to be the winner?” Tollak asked, as though it was simply a childish fight that involved no consequence or benefit.


“That is up for our skills to decide,” said Fahim. “Yet I do believe that in an open, unorganized conflict such as this, I would still have the advantage.”


Tollak disappeared into thin air with no prior warning. Fahim raised his bow, with an arrow ready to fire at any second. He stood still as stone, and closed his eyes. Every few seconds, a small chunk of dirt on the path would crumble under an unseen force, or some gravel would crunch beneath invisible feet. All the while, those sounds drew ever closer to Fahim, who remained unmoving, but only listening. Suddenly, Fahim raised his bow, twirled it around once, then struck an imperceptible solid object.


“Not fair!” Tollak yelled, suddenly falling to the ground at Fahim’s feet.


Fahim did not speak, but rather took a step forward. Tollak looked up, and the two pairs of eyes leered at each other, as if in a battle of intimidation. In no time at all, Tollak performed a backflip off the ground and landed on his feet, drawing his two swords and withdrawing them, seemingly to charge an attack. He sprung forward with unbelievable agility, brandishing his swords on Fahim, who did nothing. Blow after blow landed, and Tollak kept on striking his weapons, not showing one bit of remorse as the blades slashed Fahim’s hands and arms, and torso. With one final sweeping uppercut, Fahim was thrown into the air, appearing limp and weak before the man in blue. Fahim landed on the dirt road with a loud, sickening crunch, and Tollak laughed.


“You said you had the advantage! Does this mean I got lucky, or is calculating mathematical probability not one of your godly strengths that you claim to possess?”


Fahim slowly raised himself off the ground, and Tollak took a few steps back in awe. “I would like to contradict what you said; my guess was very correct,” Fahim said as he stood up tall over his opponent.


Pulling out an entire bundle of arrows from a bag concealed under his thin cloak, Fahim undid the string holding the arrows together, and threw all of them in the air at once. Tollak looked up at the arrows as they slowly lost upwards speed.


“Was that your master plan? Is that really it?” Tollak asked.


The arrows slowly fell, all around Fahim. But right when they were about to touch the ground, they simply stopped, and hovered in midair within a great updraft surrounding him.


“Yes, this is my ‘master plan’ as you chose to title it,” Fahim said, his eyes settling on one arrow slightly bobbing up and down directly in front of him. He raised his arm. “Back in the old days, I would have mercilessly shredded you apart until there was nothing left of you to destroy. But now, I would rather take a slightly less vicious approach.”


With a wave of his hand, a strong gust of wind blew in from behind Fahim, and the arrows were all sent towards Tollak, who stood there, motionless. Fifteen seconds later, Tollak was on the ground, unconscious, covered in arrows, and bleeding.


“I will see you again some day, when I am more prepared to meet you and your Master. But for now, farewell, Elu,” Fahim said before he walked over Tollak and west towards Ragni.

 

Since it seems like no one appreciates, nice work.

 

Oh yeah, just realised, there is now an actual weapon called Inferno and it's a mythic.

 

I was gonna try to get @stlast one, since I read his stories ;)

 

Another chapter that took a while...it's even more pointless...but I have something planned for the next one.
One of the reasons it took so long was because of school. I also played Pokemon for the first time in years. But that's not important right now.

Chapter XXXI
Rising Tensions​

The sun rose, and with it, the citizens of Deltas. Out on the streets, early commute was taking place as the people began trading gear and telling stories. Shop doors opened, and the hourglass tower, standing tall at the heart of the city, seemed to move in the bright golden rays of morning sunshine. Robin slowly woke, too.


It felt cool and early where he was, on the rug on the floor where he slept. He could hear very distant voices coming through the walls of the house, and yet not a whisper indoors. Lowering his head to the floor, he closed his eyes and turned over.


“HEY!” a voice thundered above him. “RISE AND SHINE!”


Robin jumped on his feet faster than light. “The bandits are coming?…” he murmured stupidly.


He opened his eyes, and waited for his vision to come into focus. Julie was standing at his feet, looking at him as though with deep disappointment. He raised his head, and immediately saw that Jonas was sitting on an old, highly polished wooden chair on the other side of the house, very engrossed in his book. Sam was nowhere to be seen. Robin sat up quickly.


“W-where’s Sam?” he yawned, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.


Julie walked to the open window and peered out of it. “He went out to find news and other things. He’ll be back soon,” she said.


Standing up, Robin gazed around the room as though seeing it for the first time. The ornaments still stood on the shelves, and the furniture had been slightly shuffled around since the previous day. The room felt very stuffy, even though all the windows were wide open. He supposed it may have been the dazzling morning sunlight flowing through the open window and onto his face. It was with a sudden pang that he remembered the previous day; the strange person called Fahim, the travel from Almuj to Detlas, the mushroom cows, the sandstone house, and the hidden room. He bolted to the door and began to turn the knob when Julie stopped him.


“Whoa, slow down, there!” she yelled, pulling him away from the door.


Jonas suddenly noticed what was happening around him. He closed his book and said swiftly, “What’s happening?”


Robin paused for a moment. “I want to see Sam,” he said uncertainly.


Jonas raised an eyebrow, which seemed unfitting for him, yet still made him look a lot more menacing. “Why?” he interrogated, slightly shaking.


“I- uh- I just want to see if he’s safe,” Robin replied.


Jonas gave an apprehensive look, but quickly changed it to a blank expression and buried himself back in his book. Robin glanced at Julie, who had an expression that blatantly said ‘I don’t care.’ Robin took this as acceptance, and exited the building.


He found himself on the front porch of a house in the northeastern corner of Detlas. To the left, a road stretched through the subdivision to the high road. The Detlas Barracks could be seen just across the path, and the Detlas Wall was to his right. He stepped down onto the road, and looked around.


“Where would he be right now...?” he asked himself, shaking his head.


Even with all the time Robin spent with Sam, he still knew barely anything about him and his habits. He would have to turn over every stone in Detlas to find Sam with the amount of knowledge he had. Where would Sam be? He sighed, and began walking down the road to the high street. He was about halfway there when he was stopped.


Someone was standing there who he did not know. The person was slightly shorter than Robin, had shocking yellow hair that went in every direction, and wore a dark grey vest and trousers that were simply too long for this person. He had a thin and energetic face that made him look very aggressive. He was panting heavily, as though he just ran a long distance. Robin stood motionless at the sudden appearance.


The person held out his hand, and said, “Hello! My name is Tarmo, but you can just call me Tarmo. Want to duel?” he said quickly and slightly unintelligibly.


Robin took in barely any of the words. “What?” he asked, turning his head a small amount.


Tarmo responded quickly. “I said,” he repeated, in a tone that suggested he was teaching a toddler the alphabet, “that my name is Tarmo, and I want to duel.”


Robin didn’t immediately respond. Rather, he was vividly imagining what Jonas’s reply would be- probably something intellectual that would confound any ordinary person.


“Uh- I’d rather not,” Robin said slowly.


The man named Tarmo stopped dead. “I didn’t say it was an option,” he said slowly. “I want to duel.”


“Are you crazy or something?” Robin asked. “Why are you dueling random people?”


“Because,” Tarmo responded, sounding duller and more mocking with every word he spoke. “I want to.”


“Yup. You’re crazy. Knew it. Bye,” Robin said hastily, shoving Tarmo out of his way as he walked past.


There was a sudden silence as Robin made his way to the high street. It was quite odd that that person stopped making any noise at all….


In an instant, a loud whooshing sound came from his right, and a voice inside his head said, Duck!


Robin made it out of the way just in time to see a bludgeon swing just where his head was milliseconds before. Where Tarmo was hiding that weapon, he didn’t want to know. He jumped back as another swing was aimed at him, and another. What did I do to deserve this? he thought as he leapt away from another blow.


A voice immediately responded. People are odd like that. There is no way to undo those kinds of things. Besides, it’s your fault you’re not running away.


Shut your mouth! I’m about to die! he thought back.


I see you’ve stopped talking to me out loud, the voice said as though ignoring Robin’s previous statement. Oh, and how am I supposed to shut my mouth if I don’t have one?


“Stop being funny, and start being quiet!” Robin yelled out loud.


The attacks suddenly stopped as Tarmo dropped his bludgeon in confusion, which landed on his foot. As Robin’s opponent was jumping about in pain, the voice replied.


Combo breaker.


Robin yelled in rage and kicked a particularly large piece of gravel on the path. Of all dead people who could enter people’s brains and talk to them through thoughts, why did I have to get Macy the big-mouthed murderer? he thought, mostly to himself.


Macy replied after several seconds. Because you were an idiot.


Robin never replied, but rather he regained his footing and stared at his enemy, who had recovered from his minor injury and held his cudgel in both hands. Robin whipped out his knives and held them in front of him, set to retaliate should he be attacked. Tarmo ran forward like a madman, and swung his weapon heavily at Robin, who ducked out of the way and, in return, sliced his weapon forward. He missed, and jumped back as Tarmo prepared another attack, which Robin dodged again.


It was when Robin was about to vanish that Tarmo landed a blow- right on the side of Robin’s head. Robin flew through the air with a shout, and the opponent’s face turned into a smug grin. Robin fell to the ground with immense pain shooting through his head. Tarmo strode forward and put his left foot on Robin’s head, as though to pose for a war statue. Robin started bleeding.


“So. One more down. I need just three more wins by tomorrow and that money is mine,” Tarmo said to himself, looking up to the blue sky dotted with clouds.


“YAAAHHH!”


With a loud cry, Sam leapt down from the roof of the Detlas Barracks and kicked Tarmo down before he could move out of the way. Sam hit the ground in recoil, and for a minute, not a sound could be heard besides the deep breathing of Robin and Sam. Then, after clearing his throat, Sam spoke.


“So much has happened in the last day or two that I heard about!” he said somewhat hoarsely, rolling over and standing up.


Robin tried to stand, but as he did, he felt his strength slip away, and he fell back to the ground. “W-what?” he asked weakly.


“Well, early yesterday morning, most of the students at the Troms Academy were murdered! I couldn’t believe it myself, even though I don’t know much about that place….Oh, and apparently people are saying that a fight broke out not far from the western exit of Detlas! An orchard owner there said that one of them tried to destroy his apple trees, and a traveler said that they seemed to be talking as much as fighting...what does this mean? Oh! I forgot! I heard rumors that one of the Weapons was in-”


Robin raised his hand limply to cut Sam off. “Slow down there, chatterbox. Don’t talk about that in public. I say we head inside.”


Sam looked slightly offended for a second, and then broke off without warning. Robin tried to raise his head to see where Sam went off to, but the pain held him back. As he lay on the hard gravel road, he thought about what Sam had said. Two people fighting in the Detlas Suburbs? A mass murder at a school? Rumors about what they were looking for, the Weapons?...


It took Robin a moment to notice that he was suddenly lying on a soft bed in a cool house. There were bandages on the side of his head, and the wound was mostly gone. He felt almost perfectly fine, besides the weakness that had spread through his entire body. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was Jonas pointing his wand at the side of Robin’s head and muttering under his breath. Robin sat up quickly, pushing Jonas back with his hand. Jonas flinched, but otherwise showed no signs of irritation. Robin heard a loud thud and Sam’s voice.


“Can I tell you now?” Sam asked impatiently.


Then he heard Julie’s voice. “I guess so….”


Sam inhaled deeply. “A whole lot of students at the warrior school in Troms were murdered by some person...some guy named...I forget. And also, a huge fight broke out between two people in the Detlas Suburbs last night, and apparently...rumors say that one of the Weapons is in Detlas!”


“What?” Jonas said suddenly, collapsing to the floor in surprise. Julie laughed.


“That’s what I heard! And the Identifier swears he identified it! Of course, on that topic, there’s all those rumors about the identifier….”


Robin spoke first. “What, is the Identifier some batty old creep or something who keeps bodies in his basement?” he asked quietly.


“Well, the rumors actually do-” Sam began, but he was cut off by Julie, who was laughing so loudly that all other noises were completely drowned out. It took an entire minute for the laughing to stop. Then Sam’s eyes suddenly lit up.


“Oh! I completely forgot until now! The King of Ragni has given a message! All homes in the Wynn province are to be searched under the order of the King…’do not take this as a cause of alarm’...loads of gibberish.”


Jonas stood up off the floor. “But what does that have to do with anything?” he asked.


Sam gave a puzzled look, as if there was no way they could have not known. “You...don’t know? Don’t you remember the map? That one spear weapon thing looks like it’s in a house! What if they find it before we do?”


Robin thought for a moment. “Compared to why we’re going after it, you really can’t go much further down.”


Jonas turned to Robin. “That’s beside the point,” Jonas said. “What would happen if they found it first?”


“They’d probably either destroy it, or lock it up, or...something like that,” Robin said unfazedly.


“B-but…” Jonas stuttered. “we really should find them! We’ve gone this far...so why shouldn’t we?”


Robin kept track with his fingers. “Death, mortal wounding, demise, inevitable doom….”


“Those are the same thing!” Jonas shouted rashly.


As their arguing became more intense, Julie strolled over to a coat rack on the other side of the house, took her bow, slowly walked back to Jonas and Robin, and smacked both of them with it.


“Whoa, whoa, calm down, there,” Julie said loudly, taking attention away from the quarrel. “Have an intervention.”


Jonas’s breathing slowed down as Robin looked to the floor. They had argued lots of times, but it was always at their own home, and there was no threat at all….Their only problem then was money, but that didn’t matter much anymore. Robin closed his eyes and tried to remember the tune to an old song that various groups played at Nemract every day. For the first time in what felt like so long, Robin smiled in the dead silence.

 

I decided to try a slightly different paragraph style. It looks a little more like a wall of text, but it has its advantages....
THIS TIME, I HAVE AN EXCUSE FOR TAKING 2 1/2 WEEKS
And the moral of the story: Don't take candy from strangers.

Chapter XXXII
Birth of the Last One​

It was a small house, perhaps barely large enough to fit four people comfortably. There was no furniture except a small cupboard, a carpet, and a desk and chair. Curtains were drawn over the windows, and the only light at all was a candle burning dimly on the desk. A soft scribbling of a quill could be heard echoing throughout the house as writing filled a sheet of parchment that lay on the desk beside the candle. The person handling the quill was barely in his mid-twenties. He was average height for his age, but he was quite thin. His clothing suggested a man on an important business trip, yet the state of the house said otherwise. His black clothing looked very expensive, and also blended in perfectly with the darkness. It was as though a floating head and a pair of disembodied hands were working together to write a very important paper. It read:


Bernard,

The excavation has been going quite well. Hundreds of emeralds are entering our economy by the day! However, it has come to my attention that strange things are happening to our miners. The other day, two of the workers nearly fought to the death over a few stray emeralds. If anything, I’d imagine that the portal is messing up their minds, but don’t worry, nothing has happened to me or


The letter cut off there, as the hand was still working to write it. The silence was almost deafening; not a single howl of the wind or footsteps or anything could be heard besides the soft scratching of quill on paper. Several minutes passed before he finally rolled the letter into a scroll and began to bind it using a string of scarlet banner hidden within a desk drawer. Shoving the letter aside, he revealed the contents of another desk drawer: a pile of more scrolls. He unraveled the one on top of the pile and held it in front of his face, examining it. After a minute of complete stillness, he ruffled his hair in concentration. His hair was probably his most unusual feature; it was short, and a very strong aqua blue with a five-pointed star imprinted on the left side of his forehead. He rebound the scroll and placed it back in the desk drawer, then closed it. Exhaling heavily as though from exhaustion, he reached forward and grabbed the letter off the desk. He was ready to stand up when three consecutive knocks and the sound of the door opening stopped him.

Someone entered; a person hidden beneath cloak after cloak. A strange, eerie feel came over the man as he watched the intruder; it felt almost as though that person was warm and inviting yet ice-cold and threatening. The figure paused halfway through the door and said wickedly, “Hello, Stellan.”

Stellan paused in his seat, glancing around the room before saying, “Who are you, and what are you doing here this late at night?”

It took a minute for the figure to respond. “I- I don’t want you to know...," it said nervously, as it slowly hid a shadow-covered hand behind the many trails of robes. “Though there are some who call me-”

Stellan cut him off as he stood up from his chair. “Does it start with the letter ‘L’?” he asked briskly.

The person froze completely, quickly becoming silent and still. “It- it might. But that is not important at all at this moment. I am here for things far greater than silly little games.”

A soft swish came as the figure held a hand aloft from its cloak, and in that hand was something long, thin and smooth. Stellan paused in an attempt to discern what it was. “It...is...that...a wand?” he finally asked, backing away slowly into the desk.

Even though the person’s head was completely covered in darkness and a multitude of hoods, a broad sneer was completely visible somehow, as though by some kind of odd magic. Stellan’s eyes did not move from the thing in the person’s hand.

“Quick on the updates, aren’t you? I assume from the letter I sent you that you know why I am here,” said the strange figure, as the wand in its hand slowly lowered along with the arm holding it.

“I-” Stellan began, but then he paused. “If my interpretation is true, then I would not like to contribute to what you’re doing. I’d rather maintain my status as co-manager of the emerald excavation project."

The figure held the wand aloft, and a soft, comforting glow emitted from the tip, illuminating the room. The face of the person holding the wand was still completely indiscernible, but the vivid green color of the robes could be plainly seen. Stellan stared in awe at the sight as he slowly shifted to his left, his expression growing more grim as the seconds passed.

Breathing slowly, the person took their time in creating a response. “Many a day I spent searching the province for someone with just the right thoughts, the right brains, the right talents-” with a dramatic pause, the person continued, “-and now I have come to tell you that I wish to make you immortal.”

Stellan’s eyes glowed with wonder for a moment, but then suddenly stopped cold. “With what pretense goes your term ‘immortality’?” he asked skeptically.

It took only the tiniest fraction of a second for a response. “You certainly will live forever,” the person said. “But,” it added, “you will not be entirely unkillable. If one truly does wish to destroy you, or use your power to its fullest...then you would likely be forced away from your body, and fade away in time….”

“And your source is?” Stellan responded.

“Speculation, and my speculation I often find to be...correct.”

Stellan slowly walked sideways to the nearest window, beside the desk. He turned around cautiously, not letting the person leave his vision, and shifted the curtain aside. Not much could be seen, but silhouettes of other tiny houses were visible through the darkness, and a deep, blood red rock was discernible on the ground, like some kind of crude, decaying sod. He did not see any movement aside from the odd, miniscule rising and falling of the ground as though it were breathing. Turning cautiously, he moved his attention toward the person standing only a few feet away.

“I decline your offer,” he said plainly.

The person flinched rather unconvincingly. Stellan, looking more confident by the second, took a step forward. With a brisk movement, the person hid the wand behind their back just as Stellan reached out to seize it.

“Give me that. Now,” Stellan demanded, holding out his hand.

It seemed to take quite a lot of thinking for the person to come up with a response. Stellan stood unmoving as a soft, wicked muttering could be heard, and a sudden chill swept through the room. Then the person held out the hand gripping the wand.

“Take it,” said the figure. “Take it, and I will leave. Just take it.”

For the first time in his life, Stellan hesitated at the instructions that had just been given to him. But then, with care, he reached out his hand and grabbed the wand from the other person’s hand.

The effect was immediate. A howling wind blew through the room as a strange, purple smoke emitted from the wand. Stellan felt the air around him become bitter cold as the gas slowly floated towards him, concealing him within a cloud of purple vapor. An peculiar sensation came over him; he felt his feet begin to fade away, and then his legs, and his torso, and lastly his head. A cold, cruel laugh echoed through the tiny room as the smoke cleared and Stellan was left looking up at the flat wooden ceiling from the floor. He attempted to move his arm, but with a pang he realized that he had no arm, or any limbs at all. The person leaned over him, and even through the shadows a broad, gloating smile could be seen. Stellan watched as a hand reached out and, somehow, lifted him off the ground.

It took him a moment to realize that he was the wand now.

The person examined him from every angle before waving the wand around like a toy. “Perfect,” Stellan heard the person say as the wand was stowed away in the person’s pocket, preventing him from seeing any more.

“I assume you can hear me?” came the person’s voice.

Stellan had no idea how he was supposed to answer; surely he didn’t have any kind of mouth to speak with directly. Instead he chose to remain silent, partially from fear.

The person continued without a response. “I would imagine you feel quite disoriented. Don’t worry; three other people have already been forced to deal with this, and they’re quite fine now.” Stellan heard footsteps echoing from every direction, followed by the creaking of a door. “I mean,” came the voice, “it must be hard, but this is all for the greater good. Because at last,” the voice seemed to be talking more to itself now. “I have created the most powerful wand in existence! Surely you would be impressed by a wand that can control the element of water!”

Stellan was sure that his eyes would be wide in fear, if he had them. He barely had time to comprehend his thoughts when he suddenly felt the nauseating experience that he connected with his understanding of teleportation. The headache that erupted out of nowhere caused Stellan to lose consciousness as a strange hooded figure disappeared off the mining site, taking the co-manager of the operation with it.

 

Nice story!

 

Just to notify:
I've been having a lot of trouble fitting in enough time to keep writing. This does NOT mean I'm cancelling the story, it just means that the next chapter may take another couple weeks to finish, especially since it's a fairly long one by my standards (currently at 2,200 words).

I'll just leave this here, since I don't want to go without leaving anything behind besides news about how slow I am:

Robin stared at it, transfixed. “Wha- where’d you get that?” he asked.

I feel like that sounds way more amazing than it actually is.

 

Well, since I just feel like it, I'll be posting another update.

I've been thinking quite a lot about the chapters all the way through forty, and I think I have a good idea of what'll be going on. I know the basic layout and I know roughly where to place a major event coming up (you'll see). Soon I'll be continuing a little off an older part of the story, which is looking like it'll become a large part of the storyline. I know this may annoy some of you a bit, but I HAVE completed 33 (and it's pretty long), but I'd rather wait until Friday or Saturday before posting it, so that I can get ahead a bit and other reasons that are backed by not a single shred of logical reasoning.

Something from 34:
“Legendary weapons?” Jonas asked aloud to himself. “Could that mean-?”

And @Devourer 8/5/2015 11:16:34

I'm so skilled at being completely crystal clear that everyone knows what I'm talking about.
P.S. Italicizing the word 'crystal' isn't actually anything important. Don't think too hard about it.

 

:(
And also curious, has anyone gatherd all of the Scourge stories in a google doc? I haven't found time to read a lot of it so I'm gonna binge read it, and the forum layout isn't too beneficial for that.

 

It was inevitable. I'm going to have to cancel the story.
Why, though? Why? I've spent months working hard on this, so why end it all now?
To put it simply, I've had enough. Every second I spend writing drives me insane just a little further, and I've finally hit the breaking point.
Of course, I'm going to reveal the rest of the plot line, because naturally, it would not be kind to leave you without a clue....

Spoiler: How the rest of the story was supposed to go

Way back a thousand years ago, the four fabled weapons were forged. But by whom? There can be no other answer:

It was Yahya.

The weapons were forged in an unknown manner, at least to others. What was the secret?

Mushrooms.

The weapons were forged using the power of mushrooms. But, what with all the magical strength and protection, the wielder will still gradually become too high to remain in this world. Thieves wasted away from insanity, just as Yahya had done. It was Yahya who killed Gilroy. It was Yahya who spent years working to gain power.

It was all Yahya.

All of it.

The three did acquire the Quake, but they slowly grew insane, and began living in the Nivla woods, where Yahya ruled over them, another few added to his ever-expanding army. Yahya used his army to invade the court of Ragni, thus beginning his reign as ruler of the Wynn province. The end.

Farewell, my friends. It's been a good run.

Edit: Oh, and happy April 1st.

 

Well what do you know, it really was just a joke. Don't worry, Yahya won't be taking over the province anytime Soon™ :)

Chapter XXXIII
The Scroll Hunt​

Jonas slowly slid further down onto the floor, his arms still crossed. Robin stood motionless with his eyes closed and his arms hanging, giving the impression that he was asleep. For the fourth time in an hour, Julie rose a little from her chair before sinking back down and staring at the empty floor by her feet. Next to the window sat Sam, who was watching the lawn outside with mild interest. No one had spoken since the argument, and everybody seemed determined not to begin a conversation. With a moment of hesitation, Jonas raised his wand and a book zoomed off the shelf into his hand. After he glanced at the cover and opened it, the room fell silent once more. Finally, Julie stood up.

“Let’s get going soon,” was all she said before she sank back into her chair.

Nobody appeared enthusiastic at the idea of moving. Sam turned his head away from the window, but quickly directed his gaze back to the outdoors. Suddenly, Jonas rose from the floor.

“I agree,” he said hastily.

Robin snapped out of his dreamlike state, and began glancing around the room as if to find out what just happened. Jonas shrugged, and Julie stood up slowly.

With another look around the room, Robin asked, “Does this mean we’re leaving?”

For a brief second, Jonas found himself glaring at Robin. He quickly changed his expression to appear as blank as possible, then replied. “I...I guess so.”

As though the matter had been settled, Julie walked straight out the door. After exchanging confused looks, Robin and Jonas followed. It took Sam a moment to realize that they were leaving. Scrambling off the windowsill, he dashed out the door, shoving Jonas aside. Far from looking angry, Jonas thought of something.

“Wait - I forgot something!” he said, and he re-entered the house.

He dashed through the room to the bookshelf. Scanning the titles, he snatched a book bearing the name The Geography and Legends of the Province of Wynn. He grabbed a small leather bag lying on the floor and stowed the book away in it. After a quick glance out the window, he exited the house, where they were all waiting impatiently.

“What was it you had forgotten?” Robin asked immediately as Jonas slammed the door shut.

Jonas held up the bag. “Just...getting some useful things for our journey…” he said sheepishly.

After a moment, Sam responded. “Did you steal something?” he asked curiously.

“Eh, it’s not like we haven’t done this before,” Robin said. “Anyway, what’s the point of stealing a book?” he asked, reaching into the bag and pulling out the thick volume that Jonas had taken.

“Because!” Jonas said. “We might find something useful!”

“Isn’t that what you say every time?” Robin replied. “And yet all we learn is how to bake a cake or something….”

Jonas did not respond, but rather walked off and gestured everyone to follow. In the late morning, Detlas felt very warm and inviting. People, both humans and villagers, roamed the streets ahead, and every now and then the sound of a small blast or heavy thud echoed through the city, a sign of friendly dueling. As they entered the high street, Julie asked a question.

“I don’t mean to make things difficult, but how are we supposed to get to Ragni ‘as quickly as possible’?” she asked.

Jonas responded, “Isn’t it simple?”

Robin and Sam exchanged looks, but didn’t say anything. After a moment’s dead silence, Jonas continued.

“Think about it...that guy wearing the blue clothes...he just whipped out a scroll and vanished. What if we could get one of those that could send us to Ragni? I’ve also seen people use them back home...at Nemract….” Then his voice died.

“Wait,” Julie said. “So your plan is to teleport to Ragni with those weird scrolls when I know for a fact you have no idea where to get them?”

As they passed the Detlas bank, Jonas rested his hand on his forehead in concentration. Robin rolled his eyes, but kept walking without uttering a word. Without entirely thinking about where they were going, all four of them slowly stepped into the shop beneath the hourglass tower. Immediately, they were greeted by an old man standing behind a circular counter at the center of the room.

“Oh! Oh! More travelers! Please step forward so that I may identify your weapons and make them stronger!” he said with a note of hysteria in his voice..

“I told you,” Sam whispered to Robin so that the identifier wouldn’t hear. “He’s crazy.”

Robin nodded to Sam as the identifier watched them eagerly, which strangely began to make them all feel rather unsafe. Jonas removed his hand from his head and looked around.

“Where are we?” he asked curiously.

Looking thoroughly disappointed, Robin answered. “We’re at the identifier’s place, I think.”

Glancing at the old villager behind the counter, Jonas whispered, “I don’t like it here.”

Jonas took a few steps forward, then broke into a run straight out the western exit. Sam seemed ready to follow, but hesitated and rather inched away nervously from the identifier. As Jonas left the building, a warrior clad in a suit of shining armor greeted him.

“Did the identifier try to take your weapon?” he asked. Jonas shook his head. “Excellent,” the warrior said, observing Jonas with mild interest. “My guess is that he’s obsessed with money or something. At least,” he added. “that’s what this one traveler said as he passed through yesterday.”

Jonas heard footsteps coming from behind him. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “Do you know where I can buy any scrolls that can send me to Ragni?”

“I certainly do,” the knight responded simply. “There’s been a merchant wandering around Detlas lately who’s been selling all sorts of scrolls. Maltic, Nesaak, Rymek...everywhere. I’m not sure exactly where he is at this very moment, though.” As he said that, Jonas’s eyes slowly scanned the area to see anyone that might resemble a merchant. Then, without warning, two people burst out of the hourglass building behind him.

“What are you doing!” Robin yelled as Sam struggled to catch up to him.

Jonas looked at Robin, and then at the warrior standing a few feet back. “Just...asking for help…” he said.

“Asking for help…” Robin muttered, rolling his eyes. “I honestly don’t trust that many people out here these days…For all I know, we could be dead by tomorrow, and it’ll all be because you took advice from a stranger!”

“We won’t be dead by tomorrow!” Jonas yelled. The warrior slowly moved away and engaged in conversation with a farmer from Ragni, shooting furtive glances at Robin and Jonas.

Robin stared at the ground for a moment, then said, “I still don’t think I can believe in things like this. Something smells fishy about all of this….”

“That’s because there’s a guy selling fish over there,” a voice said suddenly from behind them.

Jonas turned around so fast he tripped and fell over. Julie had emerged from the hourglass tower without anyone noticing, and sneaked up behind them. Scratching the top of his head absentmindedly, Robin stared at his feet, deep in thought. Meanwhile, Jonas glanced around for anyone looking like a merchant. After a moment, Sam came out, panting as though he had just escaped from a particularly ferocious lion.

“That identifier!” he said loudly. “I’ll never go in there again….”

Looking utterly traumatized, Sam distanced himself from the hourglass building by at least ten feet before stopping. Jonas followed, and the others did after a fleeting pause.

After a quick glance around, Jonas said, “It looks like our plan is to find that merchant and buy some scrolls to Ragni so we can get that spear and sell it. Who’s with me?”

Julie raised her hand quickly, and Sam followed after a quick consideration. Robin, however, stood motionless, and finally, reluctantly, he raised his hand into the air.

“Now that that’s settled,” Jonas said, “it’s time to find that person and get those scrolls.”

The search did not take long; a short, brightly dressed man rounded the corner, waving a bundle of scrolls and shouting “Teleportation scrolls! Get your scrolls here!” Before anyone could react, Jonas seemed to immediately dissolve and rematerialize directly to the side of the merchant, reaching his hand out and grabbing the man’s shoulder. Jumping a little, the man hastily looked around before his gaze settled on Jonas.

“Oh, hello!” he said, still looking slightly startled. “Is there a scroll you would like? A way to instantly travel to any city in the province? I’ve got a sale running for Nesaak scrolls, only-”

“I don’t want Nesaak scrolls,” Jonas interrupted. “Got any Ragni scrolls?”

“Of course I do,” he replied, “for only thirty-two emeralds each! A bargain! At least, selling it this far away.”

Jonas stopped dead. Surely they didn’t have enough for four? “Thank you,” he said quickly before running back to where Robin, Sam and Julie stood, dumbfounded.

“Thirty-two emeralds each!” Jonas said, breathing heavily. “That makes...one…five....”

“Two emerald blocks,” Robin corrected him.

“Right…” said Jonas, looking at his feet. “Can we afford that?”

Emptying his pockets, Robin said, “I have enough for two of those scrolls. That means we need one more emerald block. I assume this means-”

“I got one,” Julie said, holding out a single, dull green emerald, which Robin hastily took to add to his total.

“But,” Robin continued, “I suppose that we’ll have to find some way to get one emerald block as soon as possible?”

“Legal or not so much?” Jonas added only so that Robin and Julie could hear.

“What?” Sam asked. “Did you say something?”

“No- Nothing,” Jonas said quickly, and he attempted to interest himself in the activity around him. The city of Detlas was stunningly pretty in the late morning, with all the discussion and dueling...Turning his head a little, Jonas began listening in to the conversations nearby.

As a group of four people walked by wielding bows, he heard one of them say, “We’d better get going, there’s a Pigball game at Lusuco I don’t want to miss.” Meanwhile, a middle-aged woman was talking to a traveler about needing some special flowers, and someone complained loudly of how little care is taken to Detlas’s famous hourglass tower. A good thirty feet away, a spear-clad knight and a swordsman were dueling fiercely, until the knight made a sweeping motion and threw the other to the ground. After lying still for a second or two, the swordsman slowly rose from the hard stone road and shook the other person’s hand. Glancing down at the pocket that contained his wand, Jonas wondered whether he would ever end up participating in a recreational duel, rather than having to fight for his life all the time.

Turning around, he saw that the others had walked off, presumably to find the money needed to buy the scrolls. His thoughts were interrupted by a couple strolling past, dressed in expensive clothing and flashing around their bags of money to show off their wealth. Barely concealing a grin, Jonas stood up straight, and walked forward.

-​

“I’ve got fourteen emeralds,” Julie said, laying a small pile of green gems on the table.

“How’d you get those?” Sam asked, gazing across to see them.

“Shh,” Robin whispered quickly as the waitress passed by. “Did we really have to stop at this restaurant to discuss how much we got?”

Julie ignored him, but her voice became slightly quieter. “I found them on the street. They’re not easy to find, though there was a good amount concealed under a bush off the road.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “I managed to nick some things.” He spread out an assortment of items, including a necklace, a dangerous looking utensil, and a single block of emerald, glittering brightly off the candlelight.

Smiling slightly, Jonas said, “Sam, did you get anything?”

“Er- no, not really.”

“Well,” Jonas began dramatically, “this is the result of all my hard work.”

And he set a little glass bottle on the table.

Robin stared at it, transfixed. “Wha- where’d you get that?” he asked.

Pausing to see the astonished looks on everyone’s faces, Jonas replied. “Rich people aren’t that careful with how they handle their money.”

“Oh,” Julie said. “Somehow I could tell that.”

The bottle was very thick, and contained a miniscule quantity of a dense green liquid that seemed to move around as though a current was sweeping through the tiny glass container. They all stared at it intently for a while, and then Julie reached out and touched it.

“I haven’t held one of those since I was five years old,” she said.

Stretching his arm out, Jonas scooped up the bottle and stowed it away in the bag he had taken with him that morning. Looking around anxiously, he asked, “Doesn’t this mean we have enough money to actually get a decent home?”

“Come off it,” Robin said. “Our house cost nearly half this much. We’ll need a lot more to do much of anything.”

“Our house-” Jonas began. “You said that place was cheap garbage when you bought it! And now apparently our money is worthless?”

“Stop talking so loudly!” Robin hissed. “People are beginning to stare.”

And sure enough, the tables around them fell silent as their occupants slowly leaned over to listen. Even the waitress had stopped what she was doing and looked at them. “Let’s get out of here,” Julie whispered quickly, and they all stood up hastened out of the building.

The sun was already dipping under the horizon as they exited the restaurant. Breathing heavily, they all immediately began looking around for the scroll merchant. Robin glared back at the place with a look of deep dislike on his face.

“Honestly, that’s the most formal building I’ve ever walked into,” he said.

“Eh,” said Julie indifferently. “It makes for something different.”

Nobody argued with her statement as Jonas instinctively glanced around again for the person they were looking for. Not near the hourglass tower, he thought. I can’t see him anywhere….

And then, as though by cue, a short, brightly dressed figure emerged from around a corner. Scurrying towards the three, Jonas recognized him as the scroll merchant. He looked very stressed, Jonas noticed, and was fumbling with the huge bag of scrolls slung over his shoulder. Greeting them with a low bow that caused his red top hat to fall off his head to the cobbled ground, he asked the question they had all been awaiting.

“Hello!” the merchant said rapidly, his face looking paler and thinner than earlier as he scrambled to retrieve his hat. “I’d assume you’ll...want...was it, four Ragni scrolls? Lucky for you, that’s all I have left. Two emerald blocks, they’ll cost.”

Jonas handed the man two cubes of glittering green emerald, which he took hastily, digging through his bag and retrieving four dusty old scrolls and giving them to Jonas. Before he could say thank you, however, the merchant had turned around the corner and disappeared.

“I’d imagine we all take the scrolls and go to Ragni now?” Robin asked, his eyes not averting the pieces of rolled parchment in Jonas’s hand for even a second. Separating his own from the rest, Jonas handed out a scroll to Julie, who took it, then to Robin, and then to Sam, who reached out, but withdrew his hand as though burned. There was a pause.

“I- I don’t want to go to Ragni,” Sam said quietly.

Jonas stared at him. “Why?” he asked.

“Because-” Sam broke off. “Because...I don’t want to see my mother again.”

“Your mother lives in Ragni?”

The words had left Jonas’s mouth before he thought about it. Sam backed away a few steps, nodded, then stared at the ground intently.

“But then,” Robin said, “what are your plans?”

“I...I was thinking...Maybe I could go to Gavel...You know, see if I can find anything there…” Sam responded weakly.

“But-” Jonas began, but he was cut off by Robin.

“He can go if he wants,” Robin said. “We shouldn’t force him out of it.”

“T-Thanks…” said Sam, tears beginning to trickle down his face.

And so, after a moment’s silence, Sam slowly stood up, said goodbye, and walked away. Jonas watched him disappear into the distance as Robin stiffened. The night seemed to become eerily silent as they all stared at the last place Sam could be seen before he left their sights. A few villagers walked by quickly, discussing how many emeralds it would take to buy a home in Troms. Then, as the last few passersby faded into the distance, silence fell once more as the flickering light from a streetlamp cast a ghostly glow over their faces.

“Let’s go now,” Jonas said suddenly, causing the other two to jump a little.

Robin quickly glanced down at the scroll held tightly in his hand. “Very well,” he said. “But how do they work?”

“You just unroll them and read what it says, I think….”

As Jonas slowly held up the scroll in his hand, they watched curiously. He gripped the scroll rightly and unraveled it with unnecessary caution. In the infinitesimal moment he was able to glimpse the contents, he saw a thin, detailed sketch of a castle, a bow, a knight, and a very large spear….

The city of Detlas was swirling; the houses shrunk into nonexistence as Jonas felt a whirling sensation around him. He was thrown into the air and began blowing around as though inside a tornado. Every time he was tossed in a different direction, he saw something different through a sort of window that appeared momentarily around him each time. At first, he caught a look at a small, snowy village surrounded by tall spruce trees….Then, a crowded desert city with a massive building in the distance….Next, a large castle, banners over the streets, the streets of Ragni. He tried hard to reach out, to touch the image projected before him….

And then, with just as little warning as before, he was hurled away into blank nothingness, and everything went dark. His senses seemed to fail as the darkness consumed him. He could not smell, hear, see, or feel anything, but rather he could tell he was going somewhere; that his destination was just ahead. A second after that thought occurred, everything came back in one chilly breeze as he fell onto soft, damp grass.

It took several moments before he could finally tell that he was there. Though what ‘there’ was, he could not tell. Bugs were buzzing in the distance as he noticed how humid the air was. Before Jonas realized that he could open his eyes, he heard a thud very close by, accompanied by a soft gasp as Robin began breathing heavily, but the breathing stopped, and Jonas knew that Robin could tell this was not where they had intended to go. Someone else landed on the ground shortly after, and Jonas did not need to ask to know that it was Julie.

Opening his eyes, Jonas found himself surrounded by trees, with miniscule, dim rays of moonlight shining through the gaps in the dense thicket of leaves overhead. Patches of mushrooms grew at the bases of the trees, and the occasional silhouetted flower made feeble attempts to catch a breeze in the dark, stagnant air. Menacing clicking noises could be heard in the far distance.

“Wherever we are,” he said quietly, “this ain’t Ragni.”

 

Hehehe, nice April Fools. And sounds like Yahya does feature in this story after all... unless the mushrooms weren't a reference to him.

 

I was legit so scared until I opened the spoiler... and saw the date
XD

 

this is amazing

 

And I can thank @Devourer for submitting the only character app I've ever gotten.

Chapter XXXIV
Sage of the Woodland​

There was no mistaking it: They had definitely, however it had happened, arrived in Nivla woods. Bugs buzzed beneath the canopy of leaves as Robin hacked aside another branch in their way, under the light of a fire lit at the end of Jonas’s wand, which was flickering like a very bright candle. Of course, Jonas was holding a book open in his other hand, so every once in a while Robin resorted to complaining in whispers to keep the light steady, which Jonas upheld for within a minute each time. When Robin finally decided to look at what Jonas was reading, he saw the name The Geography and Legends of the Province of Wynn emblazoned on the front cover in fine gold-colored ink, where Jonas searched for whatever he could find on the Nivla forest:


A popular trade route between the cities of Detlas and Ragni endures many hardships, but none more than the notorious Nivla woods, where few make it to the other side unscathed. Residing on the western part of the province, this forest is home to many dark monsters, most notably the massive spiders that crawl on every surface they can reach.

-Geography-​

The landscape of Nivla is very monotone: Dark trees, primarily oak, create a thick roof of leaves that makes the place even more dangerous, especially at night. Few hills are found with the exception of the northern outskirts, and there can be seen the largest spider nest in the entire province. Mushrooms are abundant, though most cannot be used as a viable food source should one become trapped, and some are even poisonous. Be sure to pack your own food, and plenty of it, if you are to travel through these dangerous woodlands.

-Hazards-​

To the average adventurer, few places are less dangerous than the Nivla Forest. Sheer size alone guarantees half a day’s worth of traveling, and with the trees and other dangers, lost travelers may spend as long as a week wandering in circles through dense clumps of trees. Spiders are the most notorious of the living threats in Nivla, having been ranked the ninth most dangerous thing in all of Wynn by the Council of Troms. Their venom causes hallucinations that increase in strength over time unless cured, and will kill if it is not treated within a week. Should you stumble across a nest of spiders, do not attempt to combat.

Due to the difficulty of navigation, drink and especially food becomes a common problem. Basic necessities of survival are scarce in these woods, and increasingly so as you near the center. Small ponds are commonplace, though very few plants are suitable for consumption unless properly prepared. Diluted spider venom is often drunk by potion specialists when resources run low, but while it does alleviate thirst and satisfy hunger, it commonly causes a wide variety of diseases, most commonly stomach illness. Avoid staying for longer than a week without expansive knowledge of botany.

-Legends-​

Dangerous as it is, Nivla woods is famous for its myths and tales, which seem to never stop traveling through pubs across the province no matter what. Stories fly of lost treasure, legendary weapons, of roaming figures-


“Legendary weapons?” Jonas asked aloud to himself. “Could that mean-?”

Robin answered him. “I don’t want to search the forest up and down for something that is rumored to be here.” He cut through another thin branch and continued speaking. “Let’s just go to Ragni, we already know it’s there, and it was you who wanted to go on this ridiculous adventure, anyway.”

Nobody spoke again as they advanced slowly through the dense forest, meter by meter. Jonas kept on reading obsessively, and Julie had to warn him several times when he was about to walk straight into a tree. An hour crawled by, and then one more. There was a visible difference now at the rate Robin was cutting through branches and shrubs, slower and slower by the minute. Little change occurred in their surroundings; the trees were just as large and dark as ever. But as they passed a rather grubby tree, Robin collapsed onto the ground. It took a moment for anyone to realize that something had happened.

“I-I need w-water…” he moaned as he attempted to raise himself off the forest floor.

“Hold, on, I think I got some,” Jonas said urgently, as he slammed his book shut and dug out a small glass bottle from his bag. It was filled almost to the brim with water, though the bottle itself was not very large. He handed the bottle to Robin, who immediately snatched it out of his hand and swallowed half of it in one gulp. His gasping began to fade as he handed the bottle back to Jonas, who shook it around slightly to see how much was left before stashing it back in his bag.

Robin pocketed his knives, but still clenched his hands tightly regardless as though still holding them. They set off down another path that would not require cutting through shrubbery as something small and many-legged scurried through the grass nearby without their notice.

It took another twenty minutes before Jonas finally finished skimming through the thick tome, and with brief hesitation, shoved it into the bag. Still, he noticed, their surroundings looked little different than the ones they had first seen when they initially arrived in the forest. But now the thought came back to him once more: How did they end up here?

“Listen,” Jonas said aloud. “The only explanation is that someone threw us here on purpose. I just can’t see why, though….”

“Please,” Robin scoffed. “There’s no proof to show what did or didn’t happen. It was most likely an accident. Let’s drop this discussion and keep going.”

Before Jonas could argue, Julie pointed to a space in the distance and said, “Look! What’s that?”

Their heads turned immediately in the direction she was pointing. Far off in the distance past two gnarly trees, just barely discernible through the darkness of the night and forest combined, could be seen an odd shape that simply didn’t belong there. Jonas immediately began to dash forward, but Robin stopped him and took the lead, approaching catlike toward that strange object, whatever it was. The moment they crept between the two trees, they reached a clearing, and what was there gave them all looks of surprise.

Scattered around the open space were things that certainly weren’t made by any of the animals living there. A rotten old target was nailed roughly to an ancient tree using what seemed to be long fangs. Moldy training dummies made of straw and bark were scattered across the ground or tied to trees, slowly decomposing to look like the earth around them. If anyone were to guess what the place was, they would likely say it was a very, very old and long unused training ground.

Jonas’s head was racing with questions. Who made this? When? Why? Whatever it was then, now it was just a decayed old bit of forest. Just as they turned to leave, Jonas glanced back and stopped dead.

It took no time for Robin to notice. “What’s up?” he asked.

“I-” Jonas began, but he broke off. “There’s something wrong here.”

Sighing loudly and rolling his eyes, Robin followed Jonas back into the clearing, who was investigating a rancid old dummy and prodding it with his wand. The dummy began to transform, the moss and dirt siphoning away as it slowly stood up, its single, rough wooden leg digging itself into the ground. All at once, it stopped moving.

“And what was that supposed to do?” Robin asked dubiously.

“This is what it looked like a long time ago,” replied Jonas simply. “Things just aren’t adding up right.”

They watched it for a moment, though nothing happened at all. Julie gazed at it with no expression on her face while Robin grew bored quickly, and he began fiddling with a stick he pulled off a nearby tree. But then the dummy suddenly fell to the ground as though kicked and they all snapped back to attention.

Jonas stepped closer, and there he saw, on the side of the dummy, a long, deep gash mark that ripped straight through it like thin cloth. Though that wasn’t even the strangest part: The entire cut was softly radiating with an eerie blood-red glow that gradually faded away, leaving the dummy lying there, nearly split in two. Things seemed to begin fast-forwarding, and the dummy quickly broke down into what it was in the present.

“Wow, that was deep,” Julie said. “Speaking both ways.”

“I don’t care,” Robin said. “What does it mean?”

“I dunno,” said Jonas with little tone. “It just means that someone or something very powerful was here a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’d rather we find something that involved things a little more recent,” Robin said bluntly.

“Er-” Julie said. “Is this a little more recent for you?”

Robin turned on the spot, and the moment his gasp echoed through the clearing, so did Jonas. It was very surprising, Jonas thought, that those had been so quiet the entire time. Large spiders of a dozen sizes and colors poured out from every opening and crevice in the treeline around the clearing, all their eyes focused on the three teenagers standing alone, helpless-

In one swift motion, Jonas sent a magic bolt from his wand towards the nearest spider, which crumpled and ceased moving. This action aggravated the swarm further, though, and they began advancing quickly, the soft patter of hundreds and hundreds of feet all drawing nearer by the second. Jonas cast several more magical arrows from his wand tip, but the spiders were too numerous for it to have much effect.

“Hey,” Julie said as she fired an arrow into the crowd. “Brings back good memories of those mushroom cows, eh?”

Due to the fact that they were all battling for their lives, nobody had the time or energy to respond as a spider lunged at Robin, who took it down a split-second before it was able to sink its fangs into his arm. With some effort, Jonas was able to blast an entire cluster of spiders deep into the dense trees, but shortly after, two dozen more rose to take their place. Yet they still kept fighting, hoping for that one lucky chance that the spiders might go away, but they were retaining their onslaught to no visible end but one in which the three were all killed and eaten.

Five long, hard, weary minutes passed, and the army of spiders was finally beginning to dissipate. Where there may have been twigs and leaves there were now piles of dead arachnids, with more bent legs sticking in the air than they could count. But the other side had taken its toll, too; Julie was breathing very quickly and half-leaning on a tree trunk, Robin had collapsed onto the ground and Jonas nearly so. There was no time to prepare for what happened next.

Robin looked up quickly at the sight of movement, and yelled, “Julie, look out!” But it was too little, too late. The small spider hopped down from a branch overhead, landed on Julie’s shoulder, and sunk its fangs into the first bit of skin it could reach. She collapsed immediately, and so they rushed over, shooing the spider away and subsequently crushing it with their shoes.

“Quick!” Robin yelled to Jonas, who flinched. “Is she dead?”

Jonas replied immediately. “No, but she will be if we don’t get help within about a week. And until we find a cure, she’ll be a little strange….”

Robin glanced at her before saying, “I can deal with that, as long as we can find someone in under a day. Two at most.”

And right on queue, a silhouetted figure in dark forest-green robes came billowing into the clearing, brandishing a sleek wooden staff as his dark hair whipped past his face. “Am I late? Am I late?” he yelled, looking from Robin, to Jonas, and then to Julie. “Oh,” he said, crestfallen. “I am….”

Even with all the strange things he had come across on this adventure, Jonas found it odd to see someone so young in such a dangerous place, and apparently the other person was thinking the same thing. He looked to be a few years over twenty, though his face showed that he had endured far greater things than people decades older than he was. The man hastily ran to them, kneeling down and feeling Julie’s forehead. He looked up.

“She’ll be fine, as long as you get her to a town immediately,” he said.

“Hang on,” said Jonas. “That staff! You’re a mage! You can heal her!”

The man paused for a moment, then sighed. “If you really wish to know the whole story of why I can’t heal her now….I doubt I can convey the idea otherwise.”

“Go ahead,” said Robin. “Because it’s not like we have anything better to do.”

Pausing for a moment to gather breath, the man said, “It all started when I was young. You see, I come from a long line of witches and wizards, and...we’re not exactly the greatest. Oh, yes, we are powerful, but...I’ll get to that.” He paused to think. “I was accepted for training at Mage Island-” (“Mage Island!” Jonas whispered to Robin) “-and I proved to be more than capable of extraordinary magic. But, of course, when I was ready to go out, ready to become one of the greatest mages in the world, it all fell apart.

“They push quite a number of little tests on us towards the end, though I never found out at the time. Things like assisting wounded and killing powerful undead, the kind of things that seem like only ordinary mage work. It was that one day, I was told to heal an injured warrior, and...things did not work out. I was sent away, where I wandered for weeks until finding Nivla woods. Here I hid out, practicing my magical talents, and now….”

“But why exactly can’t you heal people?” Jonas asked.

“It’s…” he said. “It’s just not something I can do. Imagine trying to drown a fish, or suffocate a rock, or...I believe you can understand.”

“I’ll take that,” Robin said. “But you’d better help us, or I’ll see just how well I can use these….” He briefly flashed his daggers before stuffing them back in his pocket.

The mage looked like he was about to speak, but Jonas cut him off. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“My name?” he replied. “I have been given many names. The Wanderer, Nature Bringer and especially That Annoying Mage come to mind. But, if you want to hear my ‘real name’, then call me Trudar.”

 

Well, useless update, but I did something huge in one of the character's backstories that actually gives some reasoning to that person's decisions. It kinda reminds me of-
...
I'd rather not say anything yet.

EDIT: **** I just put it in the character sheet and it's so dark ;-;