Previous Chapters: (1), (2), (3), (4)

Companion Image

Imrys and Crispin had returned to the Guildhouse, awash with revelations that provided no answers, only begged more questions. The Dungeon held its secrets close, hiding uncountable truths no one had yet fathomed in all the centuries since The Buried Kingdom had sunken beneath the earth. The Dungeoneers pushed on, and Imrys came to know them, the charming and the aloof, the quick-witted and the quick to anger. Crispin continued to be a guiding presence for Imrys, and they most often traveled together, even if their paths diverged once they were within the Dungeon’s depths. Crispin claimed he felt certain that Imrys was in some way destined for greatness, and aside from simply mentoring the younger Courser, Crispin teased that he wanted to be there to see Imrys meet his destiny. 

After a few weeks of light explorations, Imrys had failed to uncover any further clues to his own origins. The Dragonstar never left his neck, resting easily against chest, and the other Coursers had taken to calling him ‘Dragonstar’ after the amulet. When Crispin had explained that all Dungeoneers wore or carried a personal sigil as a means of identification in and out of the Dungeon, Imrys had taken the Dragonstar as his. It was a rather non-traditional Coat of Arms, but it served. In the annals of the Guild records, he officially became Imrys Dragonstar.

After a reasonable period of acclimatization, Crispin decided that they needed to go deeper. He gathered a handful of the Dungeoneers who were interested in exploring the deepest levels and prepared the Guild for a week-long journey. Ostensibly it was a Guild affair, but Crispin made it clear that it was as much to familiarize Imrys with some of the deeper levels as to travel as a Guild. Imrys had only begun to understand what Dungeoneering was about, and he and Crispin agreed that he still needed the guidance of a more experienced Courser. 

The Guild set out together, four unfamiliar Coursers, plus Crispin and Imrys, and they followed a well-established trail into the depths. They came to one of the deeper levels, and unlike the caves and stoneworks of the upper levels, spread out before them was a vast open plain, stretching as far as the eye could see. They were still deep underground, and the cavernous roof hung high above like stormclouds made of stone. A wan, amber light lit the impossibly vast space from faintly glowing crystals that grew in the ceiling and on rocky outcrops along the ground. It wasn’t perfect illumination, more like the last dim light of evening after the sun has sunk below the horizon but before the sky goes dark. 

Their party climbed down from a cleft in the cliff-like wall onto the open plain. Though the space was mostly open, it was not featureless. There were higher and lower elevations, sections that had seemingly fallen deeper, creating chasms and cliffs, plateaus and valleys. Where they entered the plain, the ground was in one of the lower, sunken spaces, and Imrys backpedaled quickly as his hooves sank deeply into the boggy soil. Ruddy liquid seeped up into the holes left by Imrys’ hooves as he backed up onto the stone.

One of the other Coursers snickered as they split up, the other four breaking off into two pairs and heading in disparate directions. Crispin turned, taking in Imrys’ reticence. The elder Gray’s legs were stained crimson halfway to his hocks and knees, the effect disconcerting in the extreme.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Crispin said calmly. “The water here is spoiled with rust and by some process of combination with what we believe to be byproducts of the mosses that grow here, the rust takes on a brighter hue.”

Imrys glowered and stepped hesitantly back out into the boggy channel. “It looks like it ought to be toxic.” He observed uneasily. 

“Enough of us have visited this place safely that we know the water, at least, isn’t dangerous to the touch. Don’t drink it though.” Crispin turned and led the way up a steep incline on the far side of the channel. Imrys eyed the water with consternation. Nothing could convince him to drink that sanguine slop even were he dying of thirst.

As they climbed, the ground swiftly became rocky once more, and strange, orange-brown grass grew despite the lack of sunlight. Everything seemed to be cast in reds and oranges, even the bleached bones that became visible littering the ground, half submerged  beneath roots and soil. 

Preternaturally large crows circled in ones and twos and whole flocks, sometimes alighting on the ground or on the bones. There wasn’t any scrap of flesh left on any of the remains, yet the crows tended to gather around them nonetheless. There was something uncanny about the creatures, in more than just their massive size. It was easy to become distracted by crows the size of harpy-eagles, but that wasn’t their most disconcerting feature. In lieu of a pair of small, dark eyes each crow had a single, large, pale eye. The Iris was milky as if it should be blind, but their gaze followed Crispin and Imrys, leaving no doubt that they could see well enough. 

“Don’t make eye contact.” Crispin warned, leading Imrys and somewhat shielding him when one of the large corvids landed in front of them. “There’s something about their eye that can fog the mind. Not all of these bones are ancient and I’d rather we not supplement their diet.

Imrys stared at the crows, but was careful to follow Crispin’s instruction not to look them directly in the eye. From this elevation, more of the plain became visible, and it’s topography became more apparent than had been visible from above as they’d entered. In the distance, they could see stoneworks, what might even be the remains of a castle or keep, but it was hard to discern. The quality of the light made the space seem simultaneously vast and yet close. It was easy to get an impression of an expansive space, but difficult to discern the details. Imrys hung slightly back, guarding their rear, or so he told himself, but the reality was Crispin had taken the lead and seemed content to keep it. 

“We’ll find a good place to set up camp and build a fire. That will keep away the crows and present a beacon for the others. The plan is to camp together and range separately in teams of two.” Crispin explained as they avoided skeletal remains of what appeared to be humans and Coursers.

“Works for me.” Imrys replied, as if Crispin had needed his input. 

They found a space that was mostly barren ground, large enough to build a fire and arrange sleeping spaces. Crispin had some small magic potion that dribbled over the logs would let the fire burn continually without consuming the fuel. Once in place, and carefully ringed with stones and scuffed dirt to prevent the fire’s spread he turned his attention outward. 

“So, my boy, where to?” Crispin asked, inviting Imrys to take the lead for once.

~ Continue the tale in Ch 6 ~