Together they lowered Jamison into the ground. No one said much.
Dartan stood looking down on the casket of his last childhood friend. Long ago, when Jamison had turned evil, Dartan had had a hard night coping with everything that had happened. He was the last Knight in the party. Now, with Kryn, Tenchi, Bree and Dekker long dead, Gorgoldand imprisoned in a mirror, and the only newly reformed Jamison cut down, Dartan was truly the last remnant of the age… barring Snooky, who was sitting on the ground looking at the grave with him. The past had been happy, and Dartan missed the old times terribly.
Even the others, that came later- Mallick, Erasmus, Myramus and Menerous, Hannah, Angelique, and so forth- all gone. Only Dartan remained. I’m not even a Knight, now, he thought to himself. I’m a member of the Order of Valor. There are none left. It’s all new blood. He wiped a tear from his cheek.
When Jamison Crow was buried at last, the Knights and Dartan walked away. “Tradition around here was to have a drink at the Foamy Head when someone died,” Dartan said.
“We really should be going back soon,” Vek replied.
“Well, uh…” Dartan seemed to be feeling uncomfortable. “May I... I mean... The thing is, I had a fight with my companions. A disagreement, rather. They didn’t approve of coming to Jamison’s funeral. I may have said some harsh things, and they may have said more in turn. In the end, I may have said I’d rather spend a day in the company of my dead friend than in the earshot of a group of preaching, pompous zealots.” The Knights stared at him. They’re going to make me ask, he thought. Well, so be it. “May I stay at the Keep for a few days? I’m in no mood to go back to my group.”
“Of course,” Kizzlorn said with a smile.
On the way back, Grumbar couldn’t stop weeping. “He was so nice,” he’d sometimes say between sobs. “I don’t like that people die. It happens all the time, but I really don’t think it should happen.”
Vek spoke. “Soon, Grumbar, I will learn how to bring a body back from the dead with no weaknesses. Soon, none of us will have to fear death any longer.”
“Maybe. I’ve just been gotten to thinking, lately. With all this death going on, why am I not doing what I want? Life’s too short. I have a calling.”
Kizz asked “What is that calling?”
“I’m going to be a CHEF!!”
The sensitive half-orc had been inconsolable for much of the trip home, and it was good for the others to see him perk up. They encouraged him. It brightened his mood, though no one really had much faith in Grumbar’s culinary abilities.
Kizzlorn’s enthusiasm for Grumbar’s choice made him smile, so she kept it up. “Grumbar, I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”
“I don’t,” he said. “Well, I can roast a mean piece of meat on the end of a stick, but that’s not cooking.”
“Well- how are you going to be a chef, if you don’t know how to cook, dear?”
“Horacio’s gonna teach me!”
Kizzlorn said yes, that was a very good idea while the others did their best to hide the fact that they were laughing... all except Dartan. He sat there wondering what was so damned funny.
Later that day, when Horacio’s shouting had turned to dull moans, and Kizzlorn had threatened unemployment if he didn’t take Grumbar on as an apprentice, the Knights got to work.
Edge had stolen from The Cathezar’s abode a few pages of notes that seemed to be pieces of a journal. They read:
Aameul learned of the mysterious Bastion of Unborn Souls, a name older than time immemorial, even though no one knows what it is or where it might be found. Aameul has learned the truth: The Bastion of Unborn Souls is a source of virgin souls, souls yet unsullied by physical incarnation, possibly one of many disparate “soul fonts” in the multiverse. Aameul learned that if he could obtain a “soul-charged” demonic heart that is then grafted into a great wyrm’s chest, he could slay Hethradiah with impunity, graft the stolen demon heart (and soul) into his life essence, and so direct the soul’s growth and maturation as a mind in accordance with his own desires. Demogorgon seeks to remake himself at the expense of himself. Might I do the same?
Aameul learned of the Bastion of Unborn Souls after demon-hearted Ashardalon, a great wyrm red dragon, breached it. The Church of the Elements has more information about Ashardalon and his ancient enemy, a woman named Dydd. Once I have time, I propose to find and visit the temple. Presumably, the descendant of Dydd offers some power over the dragon. I must go to the Church and see what they can tell me.
Aameul’s dual nature is the reason for infrequent contact. I wonder if any possibility exists of blackmailing the demon prince against revealing his true dual and warring natures to selected enemies? Demogorgon is a power to be reckoned with- perhaps I’d better wait.
“Why is this whole Bastion thing coming up, when we only just found out about the Orb being in Ashardalon’s horde?” Edge asked. “I mean, we discover that the Orb is there, and then soon afterward this Nurn fellow and The Cathezar come out of the woodwork. Is it a coincidence?”
“Perhaps,” Vek said. “Stranger things have happened. Me, for instance.” He laughed.
Oaken said “The Church of the Elements is a sacred location. Nature’s influence there is nigh absolute, and many things can be known and told. It is very well-guarded. I doubt even The Cathezar could easily get in and find what she wanted.”
“What’s there?”
There is a ring of obelisks. Inside is a creature known as Semphelon, who has mystical abilities to see what can not otherwise be known. It might be good to have a visit.”
“Let’s go, then,” Vek said as he stood from the table. The preparations were made and the Knights left for Celadon forest.
Dartan walked through the castle, later, wondering where everyone had gone. Grumbar jumped out at him from the kitchen with something in his hands. Dartan’s hand went to his sword hilt, and then he smelled what was underneath his nose. It looked like it was supposed to be bread, but it certainly didn’t smell like it.
“Try some!” Grumbar said with a big grin.
MORE TO COME…
