Bleak and miserable darkness. Grey skies and grey fields yet it felt comforting. A place to rest her head on the warm soil. As a white sun danced in an open sky. "Opip, why don't you come join us?"
"Ekasa?!" Opip sprung up from the dirt and grey grass. Frantically she looked around the empty plains and there upon a hill were a few tents and a fire. A clan she knew. A place she called home.
And upon that hill in the grey grass was a long table set for a feast. A hundred clay plates, a hundred cups and enough meat and need to last a week. Yet no guests at the table except for one. A hound in luxurious white silk, missing an ear and half her body burnt to sinder. Ekasa.
"So are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to take a seat?" It was strange to hear her voice again after such a long time. But comforting like experiencing an old memory you'd thought forgotten.
"Where are we?" Opip said as she sat down on the opposite side of the table. Her friend only grinned.
"Your home, after a long long journey" Ekassa said as she filled her plate with meat and boiled vegetables. "Tell me did you find the edge of the world?" she said as she filled her goblet with wine.
"No not yet" She had indeed tried. The world was just a bit larger than she had thought. And its edge or end was nowhere to be found, or perhaps she hadn't searched far enough.
"Did you find true love?" Love is overrated. Battle and glory are far better alternatives to fill up one's time. "No not really"
"Did you find out what it means to be a warrior?" The question lingered in the air for a moment. As a howling wind echoed past.
"Of course a warrior is someone who fights and wins no matter the odds!" Glory and death at the end of her journey. A final stand befitting of the heroics in the defence of a frail maiden.. Frail hill folk… A Glorious cause either way.
"Then did you win?" Ekassa chuckled and grinned as she poured up wine in her friend's goblet.
"Of course!" She beat them, she won, she did it, even when there was no hope in surviving she won.
"Then why are you here?" The cynical way the question was formed the way the hideous face of her friend stared blankly at her pride and revolve. The way she wondered what it was she won?
But she did not get much time to wonder. The world stopped. Each and every thing around her disappeared into darkness. And it felt as if she was floating in an aimless black abyss. Then a light tiny and picturesque far far below. Towards it the world moved. And she fell. Down down down at a pace which quickly quickened into a free fall. She slammed back into her mortal shell and awoke to a candle lit corridor.
"I cant believe it worked" Tristin said as he looked over to Latto. The poor healer hadn't had time to flee the drop before the darkness came. Neither had most of the weary adventurers who now set up a final bastion in this doomed corridor. "Of course it worked, now just remember you owe me for life, literary"
The huddled camp was filled with adventurers mushed together leaning against the stone walls. Eyes empty with despair. Odd sounds, clicking noises and the crunching of bones could be heard from outside the tunnel's small palisade haphazardly built with boxes, crates and whatever the people of the hamlet could find to make a sort of last ditch defence.
"What happened" Opip struggled to fully regain her senses. It felt like waking up in the middle of the night to uncomfortable noises. What poor stragglers remained of August's drop were wounded, bruised and quite frankly hopeless people. And a few who seemed only a bit bothered at the predicament.
"You died, some kind of fantastical creature tore the dungeon upside down, and half of August's drop is dead, and the exit is gone, also the dark march is everywhere as far as we can tell.." Tristin was quick to summarise the events of the last few hours. The situation he spoke of was dire. And it felt even more so when Opip realised both her weapon and armour was gone, leaving her with a bloodsoaked once white tunic, and a few daggers for defence.
And don't forget you owe me! Both of you" Latto did not want them to forget his sacrifice. One out of three pale rocks had been used to bring Opip back to life. One of the rarest materials in the world which could bring back the dead almost on its own. Latto had acquired three from his trade with the knife guild. Who may or may not have stolen it from the house of coin. "For life"
"If we live long enough to get out of here, I'll be sure to repay you" Tristin calmly responded. This was a deep debt to be put in but he'd rather be knee deep in debt with a living Opip by his side, then debt free without his friend.
"More importantly how are you feeling, Returning from death is a unique experience or so we heard" Tristin looked worriedly to Opip. Her eyes were slightly diluted gazing out in different directions, and a small stream of saliva had formed at the base of her mouth which slowly dripped towards the floor.
"I feel fine" She held a thumbs up. And quite casually got up on her feet. It almost seemed like she was about to fall but she steadied herself easily against the stone wall. Her injuries were gone. And so were any and all feelings of pain or fatigue.
"Actually I feel greater than ever!" She jumped a little. Her limbs had never felt so weightless. Although that might be due to her lack of armour. And her mind had never felt so rested. She was in her peak condition. "More importantly where is my sword?"
"Your sword… It should be around here somewhere…" What belongings they had left should be here by the fireplace. But Tristin was mortified to see the sword was missing, even though he'd gone through the trouble of bringing it with him. Has someone at camp stolen it? Or had it been lost when the monsters attacked. Either way, how was he supposed to tell Opip? "I think it might be out there somewhere," Tristin pointed beyond the barrier. "Well find it later, i promise"
"Great to see someone's still got some energy. We could really use another hand at the barricade" A new voice, one she did not recognise. An elf not a half elf or merely someone with odd ears. An actual bonafide elf in the flesh.
"Whos this?" Opip looked to Tristin for help. An odd sense of stranger danger came from this unwelcomed elf. It was clear he was a warrior of some sort judging by his armour and his halberd but even more so by his presence that seemed all too big for such a timid looking man.
"This is Hapara.. He's taken charge of things around here now that the darkness is consuming all life" Tristin seemed to find the elf's presence reassuring. Which put Opip in an odd mood.
"It is good to meet you, alive, that is, I have heard you are a warrior, and warriors are what we need right now" Hapara gestured towards the barricade at the end of the hall. "If your feeling up to it we could really use your help in getting out of this place"
"I dont know, i just woke up, i think id like to get my bearings first" Opip wanted to regroup. Go over with Tristin more thoroughly of what had happened.
"As you wish, I'll be over by the barricade with my party and a few others intending to break out of this place" And so Haparanda left the pair and returned to his party by the barricade. Each of them were elves, each of them with expensive armour and weapons.
"What's their deal?" Opip looked to Tristin.
"I don't really know, but they helped me out in a rough spot" When the dark march had come the drop the elves had taken charge. Without them many many more would have died, Tristin likely included.
"Do you think they're trustworthy?" Elves were in general elitists. Their religion believed them to be a chosen race, their culture and way of life reflected this. Their cities were the largest in the world and most of the world's dynasties had been founded and governed by elves much like the last Orrain dynasty and the old fourth dynasty who built this fortress. The fact that these elves were here in the first place was suspicious and the fact that they were both glad and ready to help other races even stranger.
"No, not at all, they may have good intentions, but you can't trust their kind, however they may be our best shot at getting out of here alive" The hill folk of the aspen coast are no more. In that place lives only elves now. Words of warning that have been passed down for more than twelve generations in Tristins homeland. Words of wisdom to not allow repetition.
"Then shall we go to hear them out?" If they were the best option for survival they should take it. Or so she thought.
"It's either that or we wait for Jakurk who may or may not come, where is he by the way?" Tristin did not know what exactly had happened. The last time he saw the old mage was in the green tunnels. He hadn't been among the bodies in the water, so it was likely they had become separated somewhere in the dungeon.
"I don't know." Opip did not really remember that many details from the last twenty four hours, it was all quite foggy. But she remembers parting ways with the mage somewhere on the second floor… but that doesn't mean he's still around there.
"Well I hope he's not dead, I have a lot of questions for him" Tristin said as he scratched his neck. Something in his eyes told Opip she shouldn't ask. "That is if we get out of this place alive"