Monoliths #3: Thorn

[Gurns]

I lift one foot, careful not to pull it out of the water. Slide it forward smoothly, hardly a ripple. Set it down carefully, test the footing. Shift the weight forward. Now the other foot.

I sigh, mentally, inaudibly. A bard should travel boldly, singing a bright song. This sneaking and hiding was tiresome. Especially in the cold and wet.

A quiet voice near my ear, barely heard above the wind, "East a bit more, then hide behind that bush."

I shiver, as quietly as I can, and move on.

I had been warm and comfortable. Sitting in an inn in Waterdeep, near the fire. Mulled cider at my hand. Mulling over the monoliths. I had seen already seen two of them, experienced their visions. But there were others, I'd heard. I even knew the general location of two others. But getting to them, that was going to be tricky.

Cirath had sat down across from me.

We'd exchanged greetings. Then he said, "I hear you've been searching out those strange monoliths."

Naturally, he had heard. My tales of my first encounters with the monoliths had, no doubt, spread far and wide. But why was he bringing it up?

"Indeed," I said. "I have seen two monoliths. I hear there are more, but exactly where they are, or how to get to them...." I shrugged.

"Oh, I know where they are," he said casually. "I can help you get there."

Odd. I couldn't think what might be in it for him.

"That'd be great!" I answered.

Cirath seemed to think. "Hmm, to charge you or not to charge you?"

With that, I was sure something was up. If this was a strictly business transaction, he wouldn't have sat down without having a fee in mind.

Cirath seemed to think for a moment, and then said, "I'll let you buy the next round, that'll do."

I waved for the serving maid, and he got his drink.

We had headed north. "How good are you at sneaking around?" Cirath asked.

Well, of course I wasn't all that good at it. A bard wants to be noticed. So we practiced sneaking around. And hiding, without being seen. Or rather, I practiced, while Cirath offered advice and criticism. After some days, and a large number of both excessively patient and overly sarcastic comments, he was satisfied I wouldn't get us both killed.

We had traveled into the Ice Mountains, and eventually into this lovely marsh. Flat, dark. A little rise in the ground becomes an island, a little dip becomes a stream or a lake, and at the water's edge, ice crusts along the shore.

I get to the bush Cirath pointed out, and wait. I look around carefully. This whole marsh, it all looks the same to me. We could be going in circles, for all I know.

A ghost of a breath at my side. "Ah ha. I was going the right way."

How reassuring.

"I suppose I should have told you that I'll be wandering around until I find it."

No, I didn't really want to know that. Stealthily moving past strange and ugly monsters isn't my favorite pastime, and I'm freezing my ass off!

But all I say is, "As long as you're wandering out in front, that's fine."

A ghost of a chuckle. "A bit more east, then south, and you're there. I'll wait here."

I move off. A few more monsters, dangerous beasts. And I'm past. And there's the monlith.

It's already night, so the runes are shimmering and flickering. I go forward eagerly, to embrace them, to have them embrace me.

       A marker graces the shoreline of the river of time
       His fallen memory forever remain in heart and mind and charred ruins
       His door was opened wide yet slammed shut and locked by those with the key
       Blackened wings and cruel heart fade
       The spoils to the victors go, the union of light and dark refuses to grow
       Troubled times will soon be seen and apart they must travel
       Some for good and some for greed, hope and promise sing unbroken

Runes and I, we separate. Regret, at the parting.

I look at the base of the monolith, and see the runes disappear behind thorn bushes. Long, sharp, thick thorns, glistening slightly in the moonlight. I grimace, and set my hand carefully between the thorns, pushing the bushes back gently.

Of course it doesn't work. The thorns move, and turn, and sink into my hand and arm. My eyes cloud, my mind spins, "Poison!", I am fall...

Bloodstone! The city burns, the last few buildings falling in flames, there, and there. Clouds of smoke rise from uncounted fires, roaring. Demons roam, and heroes pursue them. The heroes, I know them, there's...but my mind spins again.

I am lying on the ground. A charred...hand, I guess, lies before my eyes. Flies feast on the dead, but now flock to me. Fresh meat! Fresh blood! I swat at them, slap them.

I lust for blood, for meat, for the taste of souls dying. Around me, demons dive toward the ground. A tremendous army below, fighting some monster. A whisper, an echo in my mind, recognizes surface dwellers and those from beneath the surface, fighting together, and wonders at the sight. I see them all as mortals, my prey! I swoop, I land, a mortal staggers back in front of me, its helmet falling to the ground, I hop over the helmet, claws stabbing...

My feet are hot, hot, tired, blistered. I see Mt. Skelenak, shaking. An avalanche rolls down its flank, smashing trees, then disappearing among them. The ground still shakes, it rips, pulls apart in a dozen places. Black smoke, not smoke, black something rises from the cracks. We're too late.

I am grabbed, turned. The half-drow woman looks at me. "It must not come to be," she says. "Your world must not perish in the rage of the Vile One. It must not come to be." My eyes cloud, my mind spins, I am fall...

I am standing. Before the monolith. Free of thorns, free of wounds, except for the tiniest drop of blood, there.

I want to rant, I want to scream. Too late. The Vile One has already escaped. What use is a warning, after the fact?

I shiver, and move stealthily, quietly back the way I came. I find Cirath, and we make our way out of the marsh, out of the mountains, and back to the main road.