Songs of the Dark and the Dead

There was an attempt to make a "Midwel Album". It might happen in some manner, if the some of the songs get recorded (a couple were, sort of, played). I wrote a bunch of lyrics (below) and made the image above as a tentative 'cover'. I seem to remember that most of the lyrics were awful, but I'm going to stick them all below anyway (with a brief check for strange comments that I tend to make).

These were written (and the image made) in late 2010. I don't actually remember if I wrote all of these, but since they're for my silly project I don't think anyone will mind. Madam T. is technically meant to be Miranda.

---

Ghoul Rapper the Rapper - GHOUL'S DELIGHT (Rapcore)
I'm hunting you down,
and you turn to fight,
afraid of the dark,
yet fighting tonight.

You're armed, I'm not,
it seems pretty fair,
'course I'm a monster,
ready to rend and tear.

CHORUS:
We hunt you down, all through the night,
of your sweet flesh, we crave a bite,
So run real fast, and travel light,
or someday soon you'll be a ghoul's delight!

Machete high,
you raise my ire,
I'm gunna dodge you,
until you tire.

I dodge each swing,
and twist and bend.
But one lucky swipe,
my neck you rend.

(chorus)

You cut off my head,
watch as it falls,
yet the body keeps moving,
your stupid mind stalls.

See I ain't the brain,
least not any more,
I am the magic that drives,
the body's encore.

(chorus x2)

Hahahahahahahaaaaa...

Ghoul Rapper the Rapper - Bad Time Story (Blues)
I was borne four-fifty years ago,
Give or take a bit, y'know,
Those like me who've been 'round this long,
Tend to get half of the bloody dates wrong.
In the time I've lived I've seen a lot,
And likely more that I forgot,
But I'm here today to speak of ill,
The good ol' times when blood did spill.

So, alright. This one time, I killed a man.
Killed his family, too.
Then I killed, well, I killed some other people.
Doesn't really sound too bad, right?
You've seen worse on the TV box.
But think about it. Honestly. Something that you stab - fight - kill; it doesn't stop.
Just kills you all. Eats you. Imagine you were there.
Not exactly the sort of experience you really want, is it?
I do that on a fucking good Sunday night out.
Doesn't make me tough - being an old ghoul makes me tough.
No; it just makes me a monster. Ain't that fucking grand.

So, think about what I spout,
Is it good when you think it out?
Honestly I kill and murder and maim,
Only a psycho would see it as a game.
Now I'm not here to teach a lesson,
But maybe just to make you question,
The truths you think you know inside,
The times later that you wished you cried.

(musical interlude)

Okay, so maybe you've had time to think,
Mind a tickin' and face flushed pink,
Hopefully not sad, just a little embarassed,
'bout what you said this night or last.
Life ain't a joke - and some things, man,
Just don't make fun of them if you can,
The horror some see, or experience,
Is the least joking matter in existence.

Blood Blood And More Blood - From the Shadows Rise (Death Metal)
We emerge from the night, the unknown doom,
Covering this world in dark and gloom,
No hope, and no-one to save the day,
We'll gunna kill you all, and so we say,

We, are, the, dead.
All of our blood is already bled.
Unkillable, unstoppable, and ready to kill,
We're out for murder and we'll take our fill.

Slowly, slowly, the shadow expands,
Crossing and covering all the lands,
Everywhere that mankind once was,
There will only be death, and why? Because,

We, are, the, dead.
All of our blood is already bled.
Unkillable, unstoppable, and ready to kill,
We're out for murder and we'll take our fill.

Carve them all up, leave no survivors,
Kill all those wannabe McGyvers,
A trail of blood behind us follows,
And as we march screamed between swallows,

We, are, the, dead.
All of our blood is already bled.
Unkillable, unstoppable, and ready to kill,
We're out for murder and we'll take our fill.

We, are, the, dead.
All of our blood is already bled.
Unkillable, unstoppable, and ready to kill,
We're out for murder and we'll take our fill.

??? - ??? (???)
Bleeding, eating, delicious flesh.

Madam T. - Storytime (Pop)
... I'm not actually dead, but whatever.

So let me tell you a story children, of the monsters in the dark,
of those who are not living, of a contrast with you stark,
You will not notice as we come, emerging from your fears,
And as you die we shall not care, consuming despite your tears.

Darkness, Blackness, It's all that we are,
You might not agree but you've seen so far,
Ghouls and vampires [aside] (of many a type!),
Necromancers and zombies (that are quite ripe!),
Blackwings and abominations,
Spiritual communications,
Evisceration, desecration,
And all without an explanation!

To tell you why may be to go too far,
But I guess I can - though minds will scar,
The entire world we'll bring to a stop,
Build a new one up - with us on top!

Now let me just say children - this is not nice of us,
But unfortunately, there is not much to discuss,
We can eliminate you all, with time to spare,
For us to all hide, from the sun's bright glare!

So from here on in, you should all fear,
As the end for you all, is so very near!
'Cause the entire world we'll bring to a stop,
Build a new one up - with us on top!

Yeah the entire world we'll bring to a stop,
Build a new one up - with us on top!

Madam T. - History Lesson (Hip Hop)
I was at work the other day -
stop, I'll start earlier, anyway,
Something terrible was done to me,
Quite obvious if you'd look and see,
Hidable, in public, but that won't do it,
Get too close and they'll see through it.

But that's in the past, they paid me off,
The moral amongst you may now scoff,
I got a good deal, and it's better than death.
(pause). Alright.

So I was at work the other day,
Minding my own business, as they say,
Something big went down, and I was in,
Consequence of the terrible thing,
So someone wandered down real scared,
Gun at the ready, his anger flared,
I revealed my weapons worried at the sound,
He shot first and I spun around.

I said "don't worry, I don't like to kill",
But he aimed his gun as I stood still,
It jammed and that saved my life,
Pierced him through, remembered his wife.

I didn't care anymore.
Monster he cried, and so he died.
For a while to myself I lied.
Said "I was just angry" "I was just pissed",
But right then I choose how I'd exist.
I chose the fell side of the divide,
And since that day I've never cried.

Blood Blood And More Blood - Shadowburst (Death Metal)
And up bubbles the darkness from inside,
oh but if you hadn't lied,
if the truth you had not denied,
that you were infected with what you despised,
if perhaps you had just realised...

But no! You're dead! Heart just stopped!
Now, no more alive, your mind, within the hive,
Overrun, overwhelmed, and overpowered,
Serve the great mind, grand and true,
A mindless servant only, no more you.

Slaughter for years, servants of fear,
Take their ears, bring ends near,
Cut them all, and make them bleed,
See them fall, it's what we need.

This mind of ours that we all share,
Is the fellest of the foul without a care,
They hope and plead for just a scare,
But we drag them back unto our lair,
Then more of us - no longer rare.

Our black winged army takes to the sky,
And before our force all shall soon die,
We take to the air and all do fly,
A large black cloud the fearful spy,
They hug their families and say goodbye.

Slaughter for years, servants of fear,
Take their ears, bring ends near,
Cut them all, and make them bleed,
See them fall, it's what we need.

Really Bad Sounds - Mm-mm (Techno)
Ping, pop, ping, pop, blood, drop, blood, drop.
Kill, kill, kill. Kill, kill, kill.
Spill, spill, spill. Spill, spill, spill.
[[then probably loop for a while...]]

Dead Kiddie Chorus - Doom for Man (Ominous Latin Chanting)
Let them flee before us,,
and die at our feet,,
heads torn from shoulders,
limbs rent and bloodied.

And we shall not cease,
nor shall we stop,
until all lay dead,
and none still move.

The children who once lived,,
but now are dead,
yet move still,
bring your doom to you.

For we are the demons,
the undead,, the horrors,
that you fear and flee,,
and we shall end you all.

No man shall live,,
where we have went forth,,
and all will be empty,
and dark will fall..

[or the worst latin ever, heh]

Fugiant ante nos,
et mori pedibus,
rapta caput scapulis,
discissos artus cruentatus.

Et non desinam,
nos non desinis,
donec omnis iacet,
et non adhuc moveri.

Liberis habitastis,
nunc defuncti,
tamen moventur etiam,
fata fer vobis.

Nam daemones,
immortuos, exempla,
quod timeas fugite,
et desinet omnibus vobis.

Nemo vivet,
in quibus exiit,
et omnes et vacua,
obscuraque cadent.

Rage in our Thoughts - Adrenaline Howls (??? Metal)
(some sort of screaming roar)
With the cursed blood pumping in our veins,
Fur all over and long haired manes.
We run and howl all through the night,
Slaughtering all whether they run or fight.

An awful swarm under the moon's light,
Rampaging terror, a terrible blight,
We sweep over the land and leave death behind,
None remain where we go except our kind.

Howling and rending,
Ripping and tearing,
Bringing an ending,
And insides baring.

(loud howl)
Bloody remains in a trail behind us,
Those who find them may make a fuss,
But soon enough they'll be dead too,
And after that, we'll come for you.

No hope at all when you're our prey,
Though you hide at night and run by day,
We'll catch you and carve you up,
Blood on walls and mercy? Nup.

Howling and rending,
Ripping and tearing,
Bringing an ending,
And insides baring.

Ghoul Rapper the Rapper - Dealt With  (??? something slower)
Like angels from the sky they came,
Spiraling down on pitch black wings.
Obscuring the sky they came,
A force to end our lives.

They carried weapons of all sorts,
And forced us to surrender,
Though prisoner my only thoughts,
Were of my hidden knives.

They kept guards watching carefully,
Eyes on our every move.
They infected all eventually,
It's funny how man strives.

When sick and dying in such pain,
Each still fought to live,
But in the end too much a drain,
And so ended many lives.

What hope was held was then no more,
For all the minds were one,
No more free will, that awful flaw,
Their minds were joined in hives.

For my part, of course, I live,
More or less, I guess,
For me there was no life to give,
The already dead, survives.

I made a deal with all of them,
To keep my fell existence,
I would help them to condemn,
Scores more to undead lives.

Spooky Story 3

Written: Mid-Late 2010.
This story was written for Prosh week in 2010.

----

    A soft light illuminated the room that I lay in. Above me, high above, was a roof half obscured by cobwebs. I looked to the side, and saw light streaming in from the windows. That’s odd, I thought, isn’t it nighttime?
    I stood up and checked my alarm clock. It read eleven forty-three p.m. so it was definitely night time. Which begged the question, why was sunlight streaming through the windows? I started to make my way towards the window, when a voice came from behind me.
    “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
    I spun around, and saw nothing. But as I stared, I noticed some faint patches of darkness that made up a faint outline of a man. My heart started to race, and I said to the voice, “What’s going on? Why shouldn’t I go take a look?”
    “Something terrible. But please, please, stay away from the light. It takes things – whatever it touches – away forever,” the voice said, sadness within it. As I listened, I noticed that similar light was coming from the door behind the faint figure – and even from the old pinholes beside the door.
    “What the hell are you talking about?” I replied, with false bravado.
    “Everything outside of this room is gone, and if you touch the light, you will be gone to. I don’t want to be all alone,” it said.
    I stared at the space the spirit didn’t seem to fully occupy, thinking. What’s going on? I wondered. My mind slowly, slowly crunched through the facts as I tried to figure out what the spirit’s words meant. A ghost, a light, it makes no sense unless-

It suddenly hit me. “I- I’m dead, aren’t I?” I said, stuttering fearfully.

    There was a long pause, and I got the impression that the spirit was staring at me, sadly. “No,” it replied, “Everyone else is.”
    As I looked at him, the blood draining from my face, the light stopped shining from the window. Standing there, I heard a deep, loud hum as the ships of the alien ghost-kings left our world. They had come to kill us all, by dragging away our souls. I still do not know why, or how. But I was the only one that did not die that day; and one of only two who were not taken.

Spooky Story 2 - 'House'

Written: Early 2011.
This was the 'Successful' story. I.e., the one that was the gift.
----

House

    “I don’t think you should go in there,” Germaine said.

Her boyfriend winked at her, and said, “It’s been abandoned for years, Germ. Nobody cares if we go in there anyway. S’not like the cops are gunna catch us.”

“Victor,” she replied, emphasising the second syllable, “… Fine.”

Victor grinned and grabbed Germaine’s hand, dragging her along as he went for the front door. “We’re so cool!” he said, a little over excited about sneaking into an abandoned house. The door, or rather the entire house, was rather ordinary. The last people to live there had moved out a few years ago, though, so there were a few cobwebs here and there. No-one knew why it had stood empty; although there were the usual guesses about demolition and infestations.

Victor turned the knob and pushed the door open. He’d discovered that the front door was unlocked a few days back when bored, although he had saved up exploring the house until he could impress his girlfriend.

Victor turned on the torch he had brought, and shone it around the entrance. It all looked… Normal. Empty, but normal. There was a hat stand in one corner, apparently left behind when the previous occupants had moved out.

Germaine came through the door behind Victor, and looked around. “I see you planned this properly for once,” she said, noting the torch.

“Yeah,” he replied, “Of course!” He shut the door behind Germaine, and the pair of them walked around the room. “Let’s check out the rest of the joint!”

It only took them about fifteen minutes take a peek in every room in the house – as well as a few cupboards and the oven. The last room they had to look at had an old desk in it – it was worn, and seemed to have had its legs broken and repaired several times.

Victor rifled through the desk drawers as Germaine paced around the room, scuffing her feet on the carpet. Suddenly her foot caught on it, and she stumbled and fell. “Ow!” she yelped, landing with a thud. Victor spun around and rushed to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. She sat up, and brushed off her legs. “My foot caught on the carpet some how.”

Victor shone the torch at Germaine’s feet, and saw that a chunk of carpet had bunched up. He looked closer, and then lifted up a large flap of carpet. Underneath it lay a trapdoor.

“Germ check it out!” he said, excited.

“What is i – oh my god, that’s awesome!” she replied.

“Hidden trapdoor, here we go!” said Victor, unable to contain his excitement.

“Wait, maybe we should,” started Germaine, as Victor pulled open the trapdoor.

“Come on!” he said, heading down immediately.

Germaine thought about it for a couple of seconds, before following cautiously.

The trapdoor’s ladder led down into a small corridor, that in turn led into a larger room. Victor and Germaine walked into the room, Victor shining the torch around. There were tables with random containers on them, filled with strange fluids, bizarre contraptions with no apparent use, what looked like torture devices, animal skulls, what might have been a human skull, and more.

“Holy crap,” said Victor, shining the torch around to uncover more and more strange things. There were no electronic lights in the room, but there were candles set on some of the tables.

“Is that a – eww,” said Germaine, pointing at an animal that was pickled in a jar. “We should tell the police about this, it might have been used to make drugs or something.”

“Probably, but then we’d have to say we snuck in here,” said Victor.

“We could just leave the trapdoor open and anonymously call them in,” said Germaine.

“I guess,” replied Victor. They walked around the room for a while, looking at all the strange stuff lying around, wondering what the devices were for or what the liquids were.

After about ten minutes of wandering, a voice came from behind them. “What are you doing here?”

Germaine gasped in shock, and Victor whirled around, shining the torch at an old, kind looking man. The man moved his arm to block the glare from the torch.

“I, um, we were, uh,” said Victor, his heart racing.

“You snuck into the old abandoned house and found your way down here?” asked the old man, speaking slowly and precisely.

“Ye-yeah,” stammered Victor.

The old man clicked his fingers; in the distance, Victor heard the trapdoor slamming shut. “How’d you do that?” asked Victor.

The old man clicked with both hands at once. Something under the tables grabbed their ankles, and dragged them to the ground. “I’ll teach you both a little lesson about trespassing,” said the old man.

With another click of his fingers, they were both knocked unconscious.

Victor awoke groggily some time later. He stared up at the ceiling, lit by flickering candles, before looking down to see a skeleton sitting in a chair opposite him.

“What the hell!” he said, standing up and knocking his chair over.

“Huh,” said the skeleton, some how. “What’s going – was that you Victor?” The skeleton’s voice sounded just like Germaine, somehow.

“Germ? Is that you?” Victor said, staring at the skeleton.

It turned its skull towards him, and said “Vict – AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Victor instinctively moved his hands towards his ears to block out the noise, but as they moved into his eyesight he noticed that they were skeletal. “What the – AAAAAH!”

They both screamed for several minutes. When they finished screaming, Victor looked down at his empty ribcage and said, “Wait, how are we talking?”

Spooky Story 1

Written: Early 2011.
This was a (failed) attempt at a birthday gift.
----
    There’s a place tales are told of. Where the plains meet the forest; far to the north, beyond the furthest trails and roads; a small cluster of houses sits.
    Within each house lives an outcast; an individual driven from their home who has only found a place to belong here, so far from the rest of civilisation.
    The first house is the abode of a witch; a caster of curses and hexes. The magic her words carry caused her, and others, grief. When it was discovered that she was the source of the many ills plaguing her town, they cast her out. Angered, she cursed them all – and all that remains of the once proud town are ruins.
    The second house stands empty to mortal eye, but is truly the domain of a silent ghost. Trapped, and unable to ever complete his business in this realm, he eventually came to the one place others could see him, to find companions in his eternal wait.
    The third house consists only of a single large room. In the centre of this room, amidst a mess of gadgetry, tesla coils, wires and steel, lies a body. It speaks through the machinery that surrounds it, maintaining its long, unnatural life. The machine, and the one kept alive by it, are the end result of a life spent pushing the boundaries of science without regard to morality or sanity.
    The fourth house, the final house, is the home of a revenant. She died in a tragedy, and was dragged back from death by her husband. For many years she stood by him, unchanging. Rumours abounded, but her husband was powerful, and kept them in check. But when he died, many years later, she was driven into the woods by a mob ready to destroy her out of fear.

    All four know much of things no others know; the witch is the eldest of her ilk, sought out for her knowledge of curses and hexes. The ghost knew of many things it had seen in its wandering, and would tell it to those who could ask. The body in the machine knew much of strange technology and science. The revenant kept her husbands books, within which lay many secrets of necromancy that she shared.
    Many sought them out over the years, but none would stay for long. All feared them, and the knowledge they gave more often was a curse than a blessing (occasionally literally).

Big Fantasy World Basis

Written: Early 2009. This is the 'introduction' summary of what happened to get the 'Big Fantasy World' into the state it's in. Needs a little update (too much emphasis on other worlds, which are completely inaccessible in the setting).

---

In times long past, all mankind lived as one; fellows, friends, family. They built great cities, and magnificent artifacts. They used magics and technologies, and even other, stranger things. In time, they came to realise that they could peer into other worlds; worlds friendly, and worlds foul. Many experimented with windows, and one day, they decided to open one, to create a portal to the fairest of worlds.

This action broke the balance of the worlds, and the worlds corrected it. More portals appeared; and not just to the fair worlds. Fell men and foul beasts came forth; the weather became chaotic and strange; and the cities were broken to dust. In time, the portals shrank and faded, and the remnants of mankind were left with their ruins, and dead. But they were no longer the men of old; they were those from other places, those who would fight for life, and less.

So although the first nations to form were long at peace, as the shattered world was pieced together, it was not long before one became jealous of another. Wars were fought, nations rose, and nations fell. And now we are in the present.

Listen

Listen

    "-'ve brought you hear to talk about a couple of your reports."
    "Yes sir, which reports?"
    "Firstly, the secretary girl. Her tentacles - this report tells me that they are integrating with her further, not slowly killing her."
    "That is... almost true. They are slowly killing her, but they won't outright kill her - she'll end up quite similar to the tainted, eventually. I suspect she may be capable of using necromancy, although her growth in power would likely be severely retarded. And the risks associated with the process... Mean that no-one is going to use her as a model to produce superior tainted."
    "Are you going to tell her that she is slowly becoming - well - more monstrous? That her blood is going to be completely black sooner or later, and her body, for all intents and purposes, dead?"
    "Not until I'm sure she won't seriously harm me in a fit of rage. I have an idea that might ensure that it goes well, however."
    "What?"
    "Attachment of four additional tentacles. I know she'll survive the attempt, and it's likely that it will be a success."
    "What?! Not only will she stab you for suggesting it, won't that accelerate the process?"
    "She hasn't hated the tentacles for a few months, you know, and after the incident with the rogue employee and the one with the civilians she seems more worried about her personal safety. It'll work. Hell, I'm not even sure she'd hate the idea of becoming like the tainted any more - especially since she will be better off than they are."
    "... Fine. And about your report on-"
    The sound of the two men talking faded as Miranda walked away. She was deep in thought - but smiling.

Reflect

Reflect

    The sway of trees in the wind reminds me of what happened. It's not the only thing, but it is the strangest. It's because of a hallucination I had, half dead, while it all went down. The world was being flooded by darkness, and I was fool enough to try to fight it.
    It was in the early days, well, the early days after what remained of humanity figured out what was going on. Remnants of a few militaries - those that had only partially compromised command structures, or went rogue - worked together to try and fight back. I joined the fight, and was assigned guard duty on a base outside of Melbourne.
    I've been told that Australia was the worst. It all began here, so it's not really surprising. The 'military' was a couple of rogue units from the Australian army, and some U.S. forces that had been stationed in Australia early on to contain some 'riots'. They mostly ran operations to find and rescue civilians from towns, as well as recon for the planned nuclear targets.
    I was one of the few who escaped from Melbourne when what was going on was discovered and spread widely. Most who were still human were caught, caged up. We know now that they abandoned the cities, and hauled 'em out to the country to farm and breed; the monsters either went with them or travelled overseas.
    That's why things went fairly well, for a while. The organised groups of monsters were all setting up their bases, and ignoring the smaller towns in areas poor for agriculture. So we only ran into a few of them, small groups that were scouts or that had split off the larger groups. A couple of towns were bad news, but mostly the military rolled into a town, killed a couple of nasties, and brought everyone back to safety.
    One day, all three groups went out and didn't come back. We kept radio silence (in fact, we avoided all communication to keep ourselves beneath the notice of larger groups), so we didn't know what had happened. In fact, I still don't know what happened. They just didn't come back one day.
    That night, we were attacked. About four hundred of the brute vampires hit the camp, coming at us from all directions. We didn't stand a chance - there were maybe sixty of us armed, acting as guards while the military were out and about, and few walking wounded. The civilians - about two thousand people - put up a good fight, but we had no real chance.
    I was injured by friendly fire, which luckily also got the brute about to tear me to pieces. I crawled off into the dark, fell down a hole, and passed out. I was woken by the midday sun, which shone down into the hole. I couldn't move, I could barely see... I could barely feel anything. After a little, I found I could move a tiny, tiny bit, and slowly, so slowly, I put bandages over my wounds. I decided to try to move after that was done, but the pain (I think from cracking all the clotting) knocked me out.
    I spent two days in that hole; my canteen helped me make it through, but I was delirious from the blood loss. I had nightmares - terrible nightmares - of what had happened, and what might have happened after I fled; but I knew I couldn't scream in case they were still nearby.
    And then, there was the hallucinations. I don't remember them now; there were too many and they made no sense, but in one of them I saw a forest. The trees started to sway, at first a tiny bit, but then more, and more, and more, until they were being violently flung back and forth in the wind.
    This made me think, I wonder if this is a metaphor?, which made the hallucination change. The trees started to snap, and the snapped trees stood up, dark and rotten and terrible. They moved to the other trees, and started shaking them until they snapped. This went on until it wasn't the wind making the trees sway at all, it was the dead trees. The hallucination moved, and all of a sudden I was looking at other forests, around the first, dead trees streaming into them and repeating the horrible process.
    I woke up feeling cold, despite the warmth of the hole, and decided that I'd never wonder if a hallucination was a metaphor ever again. At least, not a metaphor for something horrible.
    After two days, I was found by one of the IPCR crews that had been investigating the site. Apparently, the entire camp was slated for integration about a week after the attack took place. That's something worth keeping in mind, by the way - we live in a dangerous world, never expect people to stay safe until you're ready to welcome them in.

Necromancy

This is an attempt at a scene setting excerpt, to be honest, I should probably just do them all as IPC files. Also, undated == done on the day uploaded from here on out.

----

Excerpt from the introductory series of lectures written by the Lich.
    "What is our power? This is not an easy question, and not a particularly important one. We know how to use it, and studying its effects and properties is far more effective at advancing our craft than any other approach.
    "But this question has, in part, been answered. From the mages of other disciplines, we know that this power originates from a dimension, universe, or similar that is 'near' to ours, although along an axis of 'distance' one would not normally expect.
    "Thus, the question becomes, why is our power, that we call 'necromancy', so much different? No other power integrates itself so differently with living matter, nor does any other magic possess the ability to propagate itself.
    "The answer is simple. In its native realm, the magic we define as necromantic is, in essence, that of souls. In our world, the soul is an imprint within matter that has held life; some of it remains when the body is dead, some of it leaves for places unknown, or dissipates.
    "When necromantic energy comes into contact with the soul, or remnants of it, it consumes and replaces it. This is the core of our art; this is the reason it acts like none of the other magics. This is the reason creatures of curse - which is, as we know, a different kind of 'magic' altogether than that from the adjoining realm - are so resistant to direct effects of necromancy, as their curses protect and surround their souls.
    "This... Consumption of souls also means that entities like myself, the tainted, blackwings and ghouls are all 'soulless', so to speak; our souls have been replaced by the necromantic energy that sustains us. Practically, this has no true effect, as we still possess a 'soul', merely one that would be more at home in another reality.
    "It has been theorised, however, that this warped, 'false' soul is the reason we usually possess no conscience."

The Plight of Two Crags - Epilogue

Epilogue

    The party received a large amount of gold coins (roughly eleven hundred) for their efforts, and for the orb. They had their equipment repaired for free - and immediately - by the local blacksmith, and they also received a pair of powerful war horses, an additional pack animal (a second was offered but refused), and complete restocking of all their supplies. They then stayed in Two Crags for two more days, assisting in further hunting of the creatures (a few continued to emerge over the following days, though nowhere near as many).
    After this, they headed for Lost Raven, aiming to be in time for the tournament. They arrived with a couple of days to spare, but were quickly disappointed.
    "What?!" said Graeme, causing the innkeeper to express a small amount of shock.
    "I - I thought it was common knowledge that the tournament was canceled after almost every knight in the area announced they were heading to Two Crags!" the man replied, still startled.
    Sparrow laughed, and said, "At least we know why Rassette smiled a little when we said why we were going!"
    "Next time I see him, we're having a duel," muttered Graeme. "I was wondering why no other knights were heading out this way after everything was over. And we've already missed all seven days of celebration in honour of everyone who helped! Seven days of free food and a small tournament!" Graeme banged his fist on the counter, and breathed deeply.
    "Argh, can't be helped now," he grumpily said.
    "So," said Annette, getting the attention of the innkeeper, "Is there a monster around or something disrupting the local peace?"
    "Actually," said the innkeeper, leaning on the bench, "There is something strange going on with the mayor of the next town over..."

The Plight of Two Crags - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - A Battle

    "The fungus and muck they depend on has a very short lifespan without light, and it is likely they know that a no light means no food," Graeme said. "We need to return to town and speak to the mayor, and we should, thankfully, have time enough to do that. The orb will help us get through to her, despite how busy she is."
    "I'll go by air," said Sparrow. "No point dawdling. I'll wait for you both at the inn, though, since you'll be able to handle the formalities better, Graeme."
    Graeme nodded. Sparrow took off, and Graeme and Annette mounted their horses. "This will be valuable rough riding experience for you, Annette!" said Graeme as they got their horses moving, "Good luck!"
    Despite the somewhat risky pace the pair set through the forest, Sparrow reached the inn long before them. She even had time for a meal, a quick clean, and to stash away most of the loot (she kept the orb with her, however) in their room. Graeme and Annette eventually arrived, their tired horses taken by the inn's overworked stable boy.
    The party headed to the mayor's home, a large house near the centre of town - in fact, it was directly opposite the town hall. They approached the guard out front, who looked at them inquisitively.
    "If you're new in town, no need to pay your respects to the mayor, even if you're famous," he said. "She's got too much to do with organising various logistical needs for the town already! Unless your merchants hawking food or tents or other useful things, though from the look of it you're not."
    Graeme smiled. "We're not famous, but I am a knight. Annette here is my squire, and Sparrow is a mercenary who is working with us," Graeme said. The guard was looking at Sparrow's wings in interest.
    "It's rare to see a winged one around here, and far rarer to meet one," he said. "I hope you don't have some long story of adventure or dispute to be settled; her ladyship the mayor instructed that such matters be put off no matter how serious for at least two days."
    "We bring this," said Graeme, indicating to Sparrow. She pulled out the orb, and it lit the entire square brightly. A few people - passing through the square - turned and stared.
    The guard had thrown up his arms when the orb lit itself, and through them he mumbled, "I see. Or, rather, I would if it were not so damn bright! Can you turn the bloody thing off for a minute?"
    Sparrow obliged, tossing and catching the orb, causing it to extinguish. "Thank you," said the guard. "Where'd that come from?"
    "From a lair of the creatures accessible only through an entrance high up a cliff," said Sparrow. "In a ruin of long gone visitors to this world."
    The guard's demeanour changed slightly, as he realised the good news. "So the creatures will now starve? Wait," he said, pausing as he realised the bad news. "They will be defeated finally when we kill them this time, or at least, there will be far fewer. This is good news, but perhaps also a worry. Please, follow. I'll see you in."
    The guard unlocked and opened the door, letting the group in. He locked the door behind him, and said, "This way."
    He led them up a stair case - and past a couple of servants - and knocked upon a door on the second floor. "Ma'am, I bring adventurers with very important tidings about the creatures!" he called out.
    A faint sigh came through the door, followed by, "Alright, let them in."
    The party was let in, and the guard closed the door and marched off, back to his post. The mayor sat at a desk, scribbled numbers covering a piece of paper in front of her. She was the second cousin of the baron - her grandfather had been given the town to run by his brother - and there was a surprisingly strong family resemblance. She shared the baron's hooked nose and large, broad stature, and his brown hair (though she wore it long and over her shoulders, rather than short).
    "Please tell me you have done something that ends this - or will end it soon," she said. "Organising food for so many people - not only knights and adventurers, but many of the surrounding farmsteads are currently abandoned - is becoming a nightmare. And shelter, that too is becoming... uncertain."
    The party approached the desk, and Sparrow carefully rolled the orb out of her sack onto the mayor's desk. "This orb lit a cave deep in the moutains, accessible only by air," said Graeme.
    The mayor reached out and touched the orb. She shrieked when it lit, but Sparrow (expecting such a move) had been ready to tap it out. "It lights when it is touched," Sparrow said.
    The mayor stared at the orb thoughtfully, and said, "Alright. Introduce yourselves, and describe what you found."
    After Sparrow finished retelling her adventure, and Graeme his concerns, the mayor - Lady Rhiona Laudian, which Graeme had unfortunately forgotten prior to the introductions - sat back in her chair, and hmm'd deeply. "It seems a simple matter to resolve this," she said, "Although forgive me for suspecting that there might be other caves, or other ways for the creatures to survive and continue to plague us. The good baron will keep his reward in hold for you until we are sure they are all - or mostly - dead."
    "I suppose that is wise," said Graeme. Annette quickly hid her annoyance, and Sparrow chuckled softly.
    "Thank you for this report, however. There are two more matters: please leave the orb here, to be passed on to the baron, who will pass it on to the duke. Secondly, please attend the muster I shall call tomorrow morning, as I will find something to reward you with, in exchange for this orb and your efforts. And feel free to keep the other things you found in the ruin, whatever they may be; this is quite likely the reason the creatures have for so long plagued this town, not those." The mayor smiled pleasantly. "Is there anything particular you would like? I can easily provide coin - the treasury here is only slowly depleting (though I suspect tomorrow will be another matter)."
    "Coin, or the aid of a good blacksmith in fixing up our gear," said Graeme.
    "Expensive booze for me," said Sparrow. "Do you have a bottle of aged Souduchy whiskey, by any chance?"
    The party sat at the inn, eating. They were surrounded by interested folks - Rassette and Evan included - who were occasionall asking questions, and listening as the tale was retold. Sparrow was carefully drinking in moderation (unusual, for her) to ensure she was able to help in the next day's effort. She had, however, been unable to resist sampling a little from one of the three bottles of Souduchy's finest fifteen or so year old whiskey she had been given.
    Lady Rhiona had called a muster the next morning, and was organising for everyone in town - knight, adventurer, guard, and as many villagers as were willing - to sweep through the forest and wipe out the creatures as the emerged. It was well known that the creatures were mostly inactive at night, with dark everywhere (and not just in their tunnels). All were to assemble by half an hour before dawn, so most were planning an early night.
    This did not, however, stop them from pestering the party with questions for hours on end. Rassette was overly pleased that he had helped, however slightly, in the adventure, and seemed exceptionally enthusiastic about a larger scale expedition. Time past quickly, and soon the party - with excuses - made their way to bed.
    The muster was done just outside of town, in an abandoned field. In all, there were about a hundred and fifty knights, with roughly an equal number of squires; about a hundred mercenaries and adventurers (mostly the latter) wielding a variety of weapons; a hundred local guards and soldiers sent by the baron; and eighty odd villagers (mostly wielding bows).
    Rhiona stood in front of the crowd, on a table that had been brought out from the town. "Everyone, please split into groups of about fifteen; and people of Two Crags, please spread yourselves out between the groups and do as the knights say!" she said.
    The party joined up with Rassette and Evan, Paul, Nelson and his remaining squire Lily, a pair of villagers (cousins who were local hunters), and a trio of knights who were in the employ of the barony, along with their three squires (shared between them). Other groups quickly formed. A few knights who had heard of the party's adventure seemed disappointed they could not join with them, but quickly formed a second group of their own.
    Lady Rhiona waited until the groups had all formed, and then spoke. "Today, we are going to fight a never before seen number of the beasts that have plagued this town for years. We do this because, thanks to the actions of a brave trio of heroes, the device that sustained the creatures deep in the caves has been removed. Now, they will emerge in large numbers - hundreds, maybe thousands. But they will not come as an army; and they will be spread over the forest. Take care, and no-one need die today, as we wipe out this scourge once and for all!"
    Applause, and a few cheers, came from the muster; and also from the crowd of villagers that had gathered nearby to see them off. Rhiona waited for them to calm, and then said, "Good luck to you all. Can someone from each group please come up for area assignments so we cover all entrances and the entire forest? Thank you."
    The party's group was assigned to a section of a small, but deep, river that ran from underground. On occasion, a few of the creatures were known to emerge from it; many suspected the river was accessible from somewhere inside the caves. No-one had ever managed to find it, despite several attempts (including swimming against the current where the river emerged).
    As the river's depth provided an easy means for the creatures to hide and sneak along the river, it was necessary to guard it all the way until it flowed into a small nearby lake (which was, in turn, also under watch). The group split in two, with a few standing guard on either side of the river (the current was, at this time, not particularly strong as the lake was nigh overflowing).
    Dawn had passed about half an hour for the party arrived, and it was an entire hour before they saw anything of note. At first, it was just one of the creatures, unusually high in the river as it swam past speedily. The first was followed a little later by another; and then several more at once. Soon the river was full of them, often just barely below the surface, rushing along.
    "Why aren't they getting out?" wondered one of the knights, aloud, as the group watched them.
    "The rain has stopped for now," said one of the hunters, "and this river washes them clean long before it emerges. Without their muck, they're not able to get out without the rain. We should've brought spears - I've never seen so many, and the lake crew will not fare well when the rain picks up again."
    "Perhaps some of us should head down there?" said Paul. "Surely there can't be many more to come this way."
     "I agree," said Graeme. "Although... Sparrow, could you fly up and check the rest of the river, and the lake, quickly?"
    Sparrow nodded, and took to the air.
    When she returned, the entire group looked at her expectantly. "The creatures are starting to come down in smaller numbers," she said, "but the lake has a couple of hundred in it already. They've killed a couple but it looks like, despite their hissing anger, they're not willing to leap out and try to kill someone before they die. It's not surprising, considering it would basically be suicide."
    "Aye, it's one of the only ways to stop them blindly charging," said one of the hunters.
    "I also have some really bad news: the rain has started up again to the west, and seems to be advancing this way with some moving clouds," Sparrow said.
    "Then we should head down to help by the lake," said Rassette, "but who will stay?"
    Nelson, Lily, the two hunters and the three squires of the baron's knights stayed behind, with Nelson taking charge. The rest headed down the river, adding a more to their group as they passed the others tasked with guarding sections of the river. The group swelled in size to thirty-two before they reached the lake, which had two groups assigned. They were relieved to see the help; they had sent off a runner to ask for some of the reserve groups but he had yet to return.
    In total, nearly sixty people stood together, watching the creatures hiss, and spit, and screech. They paddled around the lake's deeper parts, ducking underwater whenever an arrow was sent at them. The group stuck together, knowing that the creatures would come at them without even a thought of sneaking off into the woods, their hatred driving them to stupidity.
    After a tense fifteen minutes, the rain started. At first, it was a fine mist - almost, but not quite, enough for the creatures. Then it began to rain lightly, and the creatures started to swim speedily towards them. As Sparrow sent her first arrow arching towards the creatures (as they were no longer interested in ducking) the rain began to pelt down, drenching everyone before the creatures even reached the shore.
    Battlecries rang out, variously "For Two Crags!" and "For the barony!", with Graeme adding his preferred "For those who cannot save themselves!". Sparrow remained silent, picking off a couple of the creatures before flying up a nearby tree, and continuing her barrage.
    Graeme was in the front of two lines the group had drawn up in, which consisted primarily of knights and their squires. From behind, some villagers with spears, and less well-trained squires assisted, with the archers (excluding Sparrow) standing on a rock to gain a vantage from which to pick off stragglers.
    As the creatures came out of the water, they lost much of their charging speed and a few stumbled. Those that stumbled were used by the rest as launching platforms - the creatures leapt forwards, ramming into the shields of the knights. Graeme set his sword against his shield as one leapt towards him, impaling it when it struck.
    He kept his shield up as he pulled his sword out, and cut the creature's throat. A second creature smashed into his shield, and a third landed on the one he had just slain. Swearing and cajoling was coming from all around, the line backing up slowly as its members attempted to gain some small range to fight the creatures adequately.
    Graeme quickly beheaded the creature on the ground (one of smaller than usual size), and realised that the creature that had hit his shield had gripped it. He shook his shield, barely able to keep his arm up. The creature, distracted, tried to gain a better hold, giving Graeme the time he needed to stick it like a stuck pig with his sword. The creature died instantly, and fell from his shield. Graeme looked up in time to see yet another of the creatures hurtling towards him, and barely got his shield up in time to block it.
    Annette watched Graeme get bowled over by the creature, his footing not well placed enough to withstand the impact. She had been doing alright, herself, having only needed to dispatch one of the creatures so far - most had gone for Graeme on her left. She slashed the creature's spine with her sword, killing it. "Rassette!" she called out, ensuring he would keep an eye out for her as she helped Graeme to his feet.
    Graeme rolled the dead creature of quickly, and took Annette's offered hand. "Thanks," he said, quickly readying his shield so he could face the rest of the creatures. Annette turned back as well, her eyes darting about to get an idea of how things were going.
    The creatures were, of course, fairly outmatched by a large group of heavily armoured knights; and many of them had died already. As they had bunched up while charging mindlessly, they had not encroached around the edges of the line much, although most of the second line had moved to form a semi-circle around the creatures that had emerged. It appeared as if the vast majority had been dispatched soon after jumping at the line, with only a few actively engaged in dodging and attempting to attack back.
    Annette gracefully stepped back as one of the creatures leapt at her, shattering its skull and killing it with a strong blow to the head. She stepped back forwards afterwards, in time to spot one of the creatures still emerging from the water tumble over, several arrows sticking out from it.
    She suddenly noticed a pair of the creatures scrabbling towards her, they had gotten close without leaping while she had been distracted. The further one leapt over the other at her, while the closer one starting scrambling as fast as it could on the ground. Annette dropped to one knee and placed her shield between her and the running creature, and let the airborne one impale itself neatly on her upraised sword.
    The running creature attemped to jump her shield, but Annette had begun standing up, letting the slain creature drop off her sword and raising her shield up with her. It slammed into her shield with minimal force (it seemed the creature's legs were damaged), and Annette quickly dispatched it.
    Sparrow had been picking off stragglers and latecomers for most of the battle, and had nearly exhausted her arrows. At least I know mine are fletched with my feathers, she thought to herself. She sent an arrow flying, piercing the heart of a creature that had paused, as if picking a target to attack. It's pretty easy to kill them this close.
    She looked down at the defenders, only eight metres away from the tree she had flown up. They seemed to be doing well, to her - only four seemed to have any serious injuries, and most no injuries at all. This is certainly better than the caravan in Molefield, she thought.
    A few arrows later, and the battle was more or less over. The bulk of the creatures were slain, and although they still seemed to be constantly emerging from the water, they were emerging in far lesser numbers.
    There was only one death - a hunting dog brought by one of the locals. Two knights and a squire that had been bowled over by the creatures had serious injuries, but would likely survive (their armour having prevented most real damage). Quite a few of the knights had some kind of scrape or cut of varying severity, but nothing that was dangerous.
    Most of the group backed off from the water, leaving picking off the remaining creatures to a few of the more vigorous knights.
    "A good battle!" said Rassette. "I did not expect one of any real size."
    Graeme grinned, and said, "Though not much of a challenge. Many of the creatures seemed undersized or slow; likely their old and young that normall had no need of leaving."
    "I'm going to start recovering my arrows," said Sparrow. "I don't particularly want one of the villagers making off with one as a souvenir."
    "We should mostly head back up to our assigned areas," said one of the barony knights, "to ensure that the rest of the groups are alright."
    "Agreed," said most of the knights, after looking at each other.
    Annette and Graeme headed back up the river, but Sparrow stayed behind to pull her arrows out of the dead creatures. There were still a few of the creatures around, but she was completely ignored as they rushed hissing and screaming at their preferred targets. She had to cut a few of the arrows free with her knife, and many had broken, leaving her digging out arrow heads from the creatures. Some of the arrow heads were of local make and thus not hers, she kept these seperate.
    After collecting all she could find, she handed the local arrows over to the other archers, and took off. A short while later she had reached the area the group had been assigned, and dropped down behind them.
    The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. Four of the creatures emerged from the river over the course of the day, but by early afternoon the creatures seemed completely absent from the river. The rain was still pouring down at dusk, when the group headed back to Two Crags.
    Upon arrival, they joined in the celebrations - between all the groups, thousands of the creatures had been killed, and most were convince the scourge had ended (or at least been nearly wiped out). Of those who went out, nine had died and sixty-two had serious injuries; with many scrapes, cuts and bites amongst the rest. But the mood was good, the food plentiful, and the alcohol free.
    Sparrow, strangely, avoided the alcohol and soon left to spend the evening fixing her arrows, and fletching new ones. Graeme and Annette drank heavily, but managed to make it back to the room safely (though in such a state that Sparrow made sure Graeme took one of the beds). Sparrow took a final sip from her glass (that had been filled to the brim with expensive whiskey) and thought, This is the best way to celebrate: not having to share the best whiskey in the Duchies.

The Plight of Two Crags - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Into the Lair

    "Looks like the seer was right," said Sparrow, looking out the window of the room. Dawn had just broken, though the party had been awake for about an hour waiting for the light. The rain still pattered down, but it was not heavy, and the strong winds of the past few days had receded to a light breeze, at most. "It's still not very good weather for scouting, though," she added.
    "Well, today our best chance at becoming local heroes," said Graeme, "So let's give it our all."
    "After breakfast," said Annette, standing and walking for the door. "I only feel up to giving eating something my all right now."
    The party left town shortly after breakfasting, and headed more or less straight north, where the greatest concentration of creatures was. The area had quite a few craggy, tall outcrops that made it hard to navigate, and made the land mostly worthless for anything but hunting (which was, of course, one of the main sources of Two Crags' relative wealth - the rather large areas of mostly untouched woodland).
    After reaching the edge of the crags (through about two hours of moderate forest), the party stopped. Sparrow took off alone, leaving behind Annette and Graeme to watch over the pack horses. She quickly reached a considerable height, and then started gliding, checking out the crags in the light rain. They stretched over an area of a few miles, varying widely in shape.
    Sparrow flew over them, spotting those that seemed most inaccessible or tall (in line with what the seer had said). After an hour or so getting a feel for the area, she began to land upon them, one by one. Most had no caves, merely being solid rock. A few had holes she doubted anyone could fit through - and she also suspected many might be dead ends.
    Eventually, however, she found herself upon a crag that was unusual. It seemed almost completely impossible to climb - the faces were sheer, or even inclined over any potential climber - but the top had a strange symbol carved into it. It was obviously made by intelligent hands, not nature, as the symbol was detailed beautifully and cleanly.
    There was also what looked like the beginnings of a tunnel atop the crag. It was definitely unnatural, but Sparrow could not tell how it had been dug - there were no marks from pickaxes, nor any animals. It was either the work of a great artisan, who had worked on smoothing the tunnel and shaping it just so, or some kind of magic.
    Sparrow brushed her hand across the symbol. It, too, could be a product of either, though Sparrow hoped someone capable of creating such a magnificent carving had once lived. It seemed to be writing, perhaps, next to a carved image of a strange, in human face. The face had a single centrally placed eye, and a broad, slightly open mouth, but no nose, or hair. What looked like a collar was placed where the creature's neck would be.
    Some sort of instruction, maybe? Or a greeting? wondered Sparrow. Out of the way places in the world frequently had evidence of strange civilisations, or creatures, in them, and Sparrow had seen a few in her travels. I wonder, thought Sparrow, I wonder if this has anything to do with the creatures, or if there are other traces of these people around here. Or, even better, artifacts of some kind. Sparrow smiled to herself with greed, and took off.
    Sparrow travelled back to Annette and Graeme, who were still busy keeping lookout. She related her findings, and the party ate a quick lunch, before Sparrow took to the air again.
    She landed on crag after crag, but found nothig strange. She found two small cave entrances, but quick expeditions inside (using the ordinary torches she carried) found only dead ends. Almost ready to give up, as she turned around from the fartherst reaches of the crags, she spotted a cave in a very unusual place.
    It sat on an almost vertical cliff face, far above the ground. The opposite side of the crag wasn't too steep, but it also appeared to be almost completely unstable; the damage from mudslides and other collapses was obvious. It also looked as if, from the ground, it would be impossible to see the cave entrance - Sparrow had barely managed to spot it from the air.
    She carefully circled down, and landed on the entrance. Just like the partial tunnel she had spotted earlier, the path ahead seemed to be a work of master craftmanship. She walked in a little, and lit one of the (ordinary) torches she carried. The flickering light illuminated a tunnel stretching into the cliff, a delicate pattern carved into the walls. Sparrow looked down the cliff face, and into the smooth walled cave. There's no way I'm getting Annette and Graeme up here, she thought, there's nothing to tie the rope onto!
    Sparrow moved into the tunnel a little to get out of the rain. I guess I'll have a look around, she thought. She took a look at the ground, and noticed that the rain that was dripping in from outside was cunningly draining into a small holl in the tunnels floor. The tunnel was about two and a half metres tall, and about the same width. The corners were all curved, but the tunnel was almost square apart from that. The pattern in the walls seemed to be decorative, although Sparrow guessed that it might indicate some kind of zoning.
    Gently, she stepped along the passage, wary for some kind of trap. There did not seem to be any kinds of triggers present, but it paid to be careful. Nothing sprang out suddenly, covered in spikes, so Sparrow began to move a little faster. The tunnel went into the cliff for about twenty metres, before turning to the left and beginning a downwards spiral. Sparrow went followed it down for about fifteen minutes before it stopped descending.
    A sharp turn lead to the entrance to an incredible chamber - ten metres tall, and thirty metres long and wide. The walls were covered in a similar pattern, and there were several archways indicating doors leading to other areas.
    The room itself, however, was bare. That's kind of weird, she thought. All this space, and nothing done with it. She walked out into the room. The floor, walls and roof were all tiled - the pattern seemed to be engraved into the tiles in the same way it had been into the walls of the tunnel. Near the centre of the room, a circle of tiles were stained, deeply in the centre and less so radially.
    Sparrow poked, then sniffed the stain. It had no odour, but her deliberate sniff did give her a waft of something foul. Something's rotten, or maybe the creature's lair, she thought. I should have remembered to get a whiff of them before I came down here. Next up, oh, the furthest left path.
    Walking towards her choice, Sparrow spent some time admiring the ceiling. it arched upwards to the full ten metre height over a metre along the edges, and the tile appeared to have been crafted to give it a perfectly smooth curve. I hope that someone, or something, that can tell the tale of this place survives, she thought.
    Sparrow quickly discovered a few staircases, but stayed on the first level until she had explored it all. There were quite a few chambers, but all were bare. She guessed that most were either dormitories or laboratories, with occasional eating halls, due to the sizes and placings of the rooms. Some areas reminded her strongly of barracks she had seen in castles (sometimes part of the lord's tour given to tournament winners on occasion).
    As she explored the second level, she discovered that the layout was quite different. There were many medium sized rooms, and a second large room with a stained floor. Once again, however, they were all empty. I wonder if these rooms were even used? They seem perfectly clean, barely even any dust, she thought.
    The third floor, however, was a mess. It seemed to have been vacated in a hurry, with some objects apparently dropped and left behind as the owner ran to the centre of one of a third large room, this one with a far larger (and darker) stain than the rest. Some kind of portal room, then, with a portal of variable size, Sparrow thought to herself, satisfied that she had figured it out.
    The objects seemed to have rotted almost completely away in the intervening years. Sparrow suspected that most of the rotten smears and piles might have been paper, once, or clothing. It was hard to tell; all that really remained was outlines and indeterminate stains (or rust) where anything that could rot or breakdown had been. Some items, however, remained. Small metal clips, made of an alloy that did not rust; some sort of glove device (the fingers ends and joining components remained, but the glove itself seemed to have rotted); a pile of tiles that lay spilled, half broken, as they must have for millenia.
    Sparrow put the glove device in a sack she had brought for just such a purpose, and set about looting the entire level. This level had a mix of the rooms found on the other two, and there were other signs of a quick evacuation - plates in some sort of cafeteria covered in mess, sometimes shoved aside, knocked over chairs, sleeping quarters in complete disarray (many of the chairs, cabinets and other pieces of furniture seemed to be made of similar ceramics to the tiles; although the plates were just piles of rusted metal). Sparrow found a couple of other artifacts while she searched; a pair of metal belts in what seemed to be a store room, quite a few small bits of metal that had seemingly once been part of larger objects, and a small ceramic chest full of jewels and completely blank coins of various metals (she suspected these were for trade, as there was rust indicating iron, and other, coins).
    After finishing her visit to each room, Sparrow gloated over her haul. Many of the objects would hold little value to any except a historian, but the coins and jewels were probably worth a small fortune. Certainly enough, when split, to get Graeme and Annette out of the near trouble they were in, financially. Sparrow was, admittedly, mostly pleased because she would not have to lend them money to continue her adventuring.
    Sparrow tied the sack to herself, and continued down the stairs.
    The fourth level was different again. The staircase terminated on this level, and a tunnel led straight for a little bit before opening up into a small room.The ceramic benches on this level had been smashed - quite obviously deliberately - and seemed to be made up of a large number of (mostly rotted) components inside. There was also a doorway (the first Sparrow had seen in the ruins) at the far side of the room.
    After inspecting (and looting) the benches, Sparrow wandered up to the door. It opened after she gave it a gentle push, and as it swung open, she was half blinded by the bright light shining from the other side.
    It only took her a few moments to adjust (and to stop staring at the source of the light directly) but Sparrow was amazed. The room was circular, with an internal second circle of windows pointing into what seemed to be another room. In the centre of this room, about level with the middle of the windows, was some kind of orb. This orb shone brightly - very, very brightly - despite the fact that the windows seemed to be made of a heavily tinted glass.
    The room was also very warm, in comparison to the relative cool Sparrow had been walking through. Sparrow walked up to the glass carefully, and peered around. Above the device, there was only a simple rock ceiling, but down below the device was a large pool of water that was crawling with a mass of the creatures; and seemingly coated completely with their muck. Well, that solves everything neatly, she thought.
    Sparrow sat down in front of one of the windows, and stared at the orb. I want it, if I can grab it, she thought. I probably won't be able to keep it, or sell it, but it looks like just the way to ingratiate myself with the nobility. Sparrow grinned. Worst case, I smash it and we're still the heroes.
    Sparrow tapped the glass. Seems thin enough to smash, although it might not be safe to be this close to the device with it on. I wonder if it can even be turned off? One would expect it to have been turned off, or taken, when the owners of this place left. Perhaps... Perhaps the counters in the previous room were constructions that controlled it, and without them it can't be controlled? That would be unfortunate.
    I'll smash the glass and see what happens, she decided. Sparrow walked back to the smaller room, and grabbed a piece of heavy junk from inside one of the counters. Returning to the orb room, she moved around to a window that did not face the entrance, and threw the object at the window. The piece of junk shattered the glass easily, and noisily, before plummeting alongside the shards into the water below.
    The light was brighter, without the window, but the heat did not seem to have increased. In truth, it was perhaps not much warmer than outside would be - Sparrow wondered if the heat was even related to the orb, as she drew closer to it. More importantly, though, should I just shoot it and hope it stops working? Or perhaps go grab it? She held her hand in front of her face, blocking the light from the orb.
    A small rope seemed to be attaching the orb to the ceiling - it looked like some kind of rope to Sparrow, anyway. That might be a better choice to shoot, she thought. Perhaps it pipes in the orb's power? Seems likely... She notched her bow, and sent an arrow flying at the cord. At such close range her aim was perfect, the arrow slicing through the cord and sending the orb plummeting down, still lit.
    Shit, thought Sparrow.
    Far down below, where the orb had landed with a splash, the creatures swarmed. Sparrow looked down from high above, trying to figure out her next move. The orb was under the water, although she had waited a short time, just in case, it had not dimmed. I should have checked if it was hot, flown close, and cut the cord with my knife, she thought. Now my only real choice is to scare the creatures of and try to steal it quickly, before they decide to move it.
    Forty-nine arrows, and an awful lot of those creatures, she thought to herself. Good luck, Sparrow. She the first arrow to her bow, and let it fly. With expert precision it slammed into one of the creatures, piercing its heart and killing it instantly. She leapt from the room, and began spiralling down, arrows flying again and again into the creatures.
    At first, they responded by screeching at her, but unable to reach her they soon decided to rush for cover, leaving the orb behind. Sparrow picked off several of them on her way down, and injured quite a few. When only ten metres remained, she fired one last arrow and pulled in her wings, diving directly towards the orb; swapping her bow for a sack as she rapidly descended.
    Her wings spread to their full extent right before she landed, and gigantic shadow cast upon the walls of the pit where they blocked the light of the orb. Up close, she could finally tell that it was roughly half a metre in diameter. Her sack open and ready, she grabbed it. As soon as she touched the orb, however, it went dark. Fuck, thought Sparrow. She dumped the orb - which was surprisingly light - into the sack and looped the sack on her shoulder before launching herself upwards, completely blind.
    Fumbling in her pocket, she found one of Rassette's sticks and pulled it out. Holding it in her teeth, she struck a flint on it. The light it cast seemed dull, compared to the orb, but it was enough to light the walls and show her the creatures below. They had come out from cover and, now that she had lit up the area around her, they were staring upwards. They seemed... Defeated, some how. They were not hissing, or screeching, nor even hiding.
    It was almost as if something unthinkable had happened, something impossible. Like the sun not rising when it should.
    Back up in the observation room, Sparrow rolled the orb from her sack. Without light shining from it, she could see that it was silvery, and - as with pretty much everything in the ruin - intricately, beautifully carved. The cord seemed to contain metal, rather than being some kind of pipe as she had guessed. It also seemed to have been shoved into the orb, and Sparrow went to pull it out.
    As soon as she touched the orb, it relit itself, startling her. She fell backwards, surprised, but quickly recovered and grabbed it. It, once more, went dark. This is a strange device, she thought. She pulled the cord from the orb, making sure to keep a hand on the orb at all times. It came out easily, and she tossed it into her sack of junk. And, once again, an easier way of doing things has presented itself, she thought, sarcastically. This has not been an adventure that highlights how clever and resourceful I am.
    Sparrow returned the orb to the sack, and stood up. Time to head back.
    Leaving the ruin was uneventful. Outside, rain still fell, though only lightly. Sparrow launched herself from the entrance, and set off to meet back up with Annette and Graeme. She guessed she had been gone for three or four hours, which was pretty good for looting an entire ruin.
    "There she is!" said Annette, pointing at the sky. Graeme and Annette had had an uneventful afternoon - a solitary creature had come across them, but its screeching had brought no reinforcements; Annette had dispatched it with a single swing.
    Grame stared up at the small dot. Far larger than a bird, and shaped like a winged one. "Looks like her," he said. "Or another winged one, though I doubt any others are about." He stretched, and rose to his feet.
    Annette busied herself packing up gear - the pair had set up a small tarp to keep the rain off - as Graeme kept a watchful eye out. It only took a few minutes for Sparrow to reach them, and she landed gracefully.
    "Check this out," she said excitedly, and pulled the orb from the sack. Startled grunts came from Annette and Graeme, and Sparrow tossed the orb slightly up and easily caught it, extinguishing its light.
    Grame slowly lowered his arms from where he had thrown them to cover his eyes. "What, in the all of the world, is that?" he asked.
    "Some kind of lighting device," Sparrow replied. "I found it in a ruin high up one of the sheerest cliff faces."
    "Really," said Graeme thoughtfully.
    "Yep," said Sparrow, before launching into an excited description of her adventure.
    After Sparrow had finished telling her tale, Graeme sat down, deep in thought. Annette, however, said, "Well done! I wish I could see the ruin, an untouched ruin! We should organise a proper expedition with enough rope to get others up and down.!"
    Sparrow grinned at the idea, but before she could speak, Graeme interrupted. "There's something else we'll need to do first, which is get all of Two Crags up in arms," he said grimly.
    "Huh?" said Annette, as Sparrow said, "Why?"
    "Do you realise what the creatures are going to do without their light source?" asked Graeme.
    "Oh," said Sparrow. "Shit."