Session 16 - Part Three
Ask and you shall recieve
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Return from the Dead
Rowan stirred restlessly, then started awake. He had been dreaming of mutton and potato stew and baked peach pie; one served by Drusilla Cassuvius and the other served by Maxima Scipio. Both were wearing smiles and little else. A
hoot echoed through the cavern and the ranger drove the dreams from his head and focused his thoughts.
Lew and Quintus slept soundly in the small depression. His sword whispered from its sheath when he realized no one was on watch. He peered over the rim of the stone bowl, straining to see into the faint whitish-green haze. “We’re lucky we’re still alive,” he grumped as he woke the others with his toe. It took his conscious companions several moments to orient themselves, and then the familiar routine settled in.
Lew checked the prone forms of Sextus and Rosë, opened his prayer book and began his morning duties to
Osirian. Quintus checked the perimeter, then sat and closed his eyes in meditation. Rowan prepared some trail rations and kept watch.
Within half a turn of the hourglass, a series of bluish-white auroras flared atop the stone and the companions huddled close as a somber Rosë related his near-death experience
(DM’s Note: See Rose at Deathsgate for an explanation). Amazed silence followed for several grains, then Lew said, “Truly
Osirian has smiled upon you my friend. Perhaps now you will find time to learn more of the Lightbringer!”
Rosë nodded in agreement, although he couldn’t recall seeing anything of
Osirian in his vision! The others clapped the Brigante on his shoulder and back, welcoming him home with heartfelt words and broad grins. Their celebration was disturbed by the sound of a rock clattering down the cliffside a spear’s throw away. Hooting followed the fading echoes of the loose stone.
“Something is out there,” said Rowan, fingering his hilt nervously. “I think we’d best be away as soon as possible. Lew’s favors from
Osirian have only gone so far and we shouldn’t risk fight if we can avoid it!”
Their gear was stowed in record time and they resumed their journey towards the dim structure they had seen before. A dozen hoots floated down from the sheer walls of the cavern before they had gone a hundred paces. Lew caught a glimpse of silvery fur to his left and Rosë called a warning from behind a grain or two later. “They are behind us!”
“And in front!” Rowan called through gritted teeth as a quartet of shapes loped across their line of advance, hopping from rock to rock with practiced ease. The ranger exchanged his gladius for his Sythian horse bow and nocked an arrow.
“Hold for a moment,” Quintus said softly. The others halted and spared a glance at him. “Can we make the building?”
While his brother was speaking, Sextus noted the creatures stopped and cocked their heads as if listening. A slightly wet snuffling sound issued from one, as it tasted the air. The younger Scipio filed that information away.
“I don’t want to get caught in the open…I say we make a break for it,” replied Rowan.
Rapid agreement was followed by rapid action. With Rowan in the lead and Rosë trailing, the party clambered over the rocks as quickly as they dared. Weapon hilts and armor buckles scrapped against rock, ringing like tiny metallic bells. A dozen heads snapped in their direction and a low roar of hoots flooded the cavern, echoing of wall and water.
Several of the creatures dashed in closer, and then sprang away from the party again, hooting furiously. Rowan saw they were covered in coarse silver fur and bore black and red markings on elongated snouts. Small, milky-white eyes, large tufted ears and formidable ivory fangs graced their heads. Their limbs were knotted with muscles, although back legs were shorter than the front. A reddish-colored tail trailed behind and they stopped from time to time, standing erect to reveal taloned forepaws.
The hooting sounds were almost deafening as more of the creatures streamed down from the rock cliffs and bounded towards the party. Sextus counted at least a score flitting back and forth among the rocks, pressing closer. “We are going to have to run for it!” Quintus’s call rose above the din.
The others needed no urging.
Rowan angled toward the rapidly approaching structure, now revealed as a domed edifice on a small peninsula jutting out into the lake. A small outbuilding was closest to the party and they broke into a run as they exited the rocks onto a narrow sandy swale. A chilling roar erupted behind them.
Quintus threw a glance over his shoulder as he raced for the outbuilding, which was taking shape as a small gatehouse. A huge form, easily twice the size of the other creatures, emerged from the shadows. It stood erect and repeated its challenge, pounding on its massive chest with clawed fists. The other creatures took up the call and hopped onto the swale, forming a rough, concave line. On the third roar, the silvery mass charged.
“
Osirian’s light,” breathed Lew, “there must be two score of them!”
Rowan reached the outbuilding and hurled himself against the large door. His shoulder crunched into solid stone, but he felt the portal give slightly. “Rosë!” He called desperately, “I need your help!”
The young barbarian leapt forward to add his strength to Rowan’s. Quintus, Sextus and Lew clustered in a tight knot before the door, weapons and spells ready. Quintus, his mind strangely detached from his pounding heart, compared the pace of the rapidly closing creatures with the agonizingly slow progress of Rowan and Rosë.
“We aren’t going to make it…”
To Be Continued…
Next: An Ancient Mystery
~ Old One
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