8 replies to this topic

[September]

I was exhausted. I have no idea how, but I somehow managed to keep a near run for most of my journey. Perhaps my body has made some strange adjustment since the fire, but ever since Malbe's atrocities I've found myself running, and not just casually, either. It's like my body has decided to put all of the strength that would have gone to my arms (the Rito are generally rather strong--while our bones are hollow, there's still a considerable weight to lift when flying) has been put into leg muscles instead. Perhaps I'm no longer a crow and now I'm a... keese, I'm too tired for all of this thinking. A whatchamacallit. Os... os... something.

Blearily turning my thoughts from introspective to extrospective, I examine the mass of stone before me. I had done a fair amount of reading about my race's traditional home, but I hadn't expected it to be so tall. Or so steep. There was no way one could climb that without some sort of equipment... or wings. I knew there was a path somewhere for visiting foot travelers (merchants, for the most part. While the Rito's main business was as couriers, they also handled their fair share of trade as well), but I had no idea where the path began. Sighing, I began jogging closer to the monolith, talons so numb they hardly noticed the exertion.

[September]

After what seemed to be hours, and what felt like half way around the rock, I found the path. Completely spent, I gazed blearily at the sharp pass, switch-backing up the steep mountain face. While it was easier than climbing the whole cursed thing, it was not going to be an easy trip. And I was definitely not fit for such a trip in my condition. Wiping perspiration and hair from my face, I numbly looked for a suitable resting place. I needed sleep before I did anything else. Finding a convenient copse of stone near the path's beginning, I limped my way to it.

Exhaustedly leaning against the lee of one of the boulders, I welcomed the cool of the shadow. Drawing Malbe's dagger, I griped it in my remaining hand and brought my knees to my chin. I had scarcely closed my eyes before I was asleep, the cool shadows of mid-afternoon enveloping me.

[September]

It was probably a stupid idea, but I decided to make my way up the trail in twilight. I had woken just before the sun started its decent, and my body was surprisingly rested. Being a city boy, I really didn't know what to expect on the trail. Let's just say it was far more arduous and dangerous than I thought.

It was now almost perfect darkness. I was who-knows-how-high on the trail, and fumbling blindly. My talons were bleeding in several places, my shins were banged up, and I was aching all over. Gasping in frustration and pain as I slipped on yet another loose rock to land with a fwump, I'm reminded my lovely misadventure with Malbe and his scheme. It's odd. It concluded only a week ago, yet it feels like it's been years. I hate him for what he did to me... yet I wouldn't be where I am with out him. Nor would I have this uncontrollable power.

Allowing these interesting thoughts to percolate, I made my stumbling journey closer to my ancestor's home. Suddenly, that all familiar, gut-wrenching, falling sensation hit me. I had (once again) slipped on a loose piece of shale. Quite suddenly, I was flying again. Flying to the ground, who knows how far below, that is. Unless I hit the path again. Would that be more pleasant, or less? I might survive then... But probably only 'till morning. A Rito falling to his death. The irony.

[September]

I woke up in pitch black darkness. Though not entirely sure why, I instinctively knew I was inside... something. I was lying on some sort of rocky surface, and the air was quite still. Sitting up, it suddenly hit me--both literally and figuratively. I smashed my head on the apparently low ceiling and realized that I was still alive. Grunting in pain and returning to my reclined position, I rubbed my head ruefully. While it was nice to know I was alive, that was a rather painful awakening.

Rolling over, I began crawling blindly, body aching. I've no idea how far that fall was, or how I was still alive... but apparently I was in some sort of tunnel. Hoping it took me up and out and not deeper into the mountain, I numbly crawled along in the sinister blackness.

I've no idea how long I crawled for, but eventually I met some light. Spurred by the orange warmth, I sped up. Soon I could crouch. Then stand. I found myself in a smallish, circular cave, rocky floor lightly dusted in sand. Against the far wall was a pair standing torches, their bright light illuminating the chest standing between them.

[September]

Things just kept getting better and better. I somehow managed to survive a fall from who-knows-how-high to who-knows-how-low with hardly a scratch and a few aches and pains that were all ready slowly fading, and now I had found myself in some sort of odd treasure room. Brushing my dirty hair from my face, I carefully stalked forward, my talons making nary the sound on the sand-frosted floor. Feeling... oddly confident, I pressed onward, my grungy hand longing to lift the clasp on the old, wooden chest. Avian heart fluttering fluttering madly in my chest, I stood--after what seemed like ages, but was merely moments--in front of the chest.

Triumphant, anticipatory, and inaudible music filled my pointed ears as I placed my lonely hand on the chest's worn and tarnished clasp. Heaving the heavy lid up with scarcely a squeak, I squinted as an odd light shone from the chest. Reaching blindly inside, and hoping madly that this wasn't some sort of horrible trap, I let out a huge sigh of relief (realizing I had been holding my breath) as my hand clasped not on some dangerous device or hissing snake, but a warm wooden handle. Hauling what ever it was out of the chest, a triumphant fanfare seemed to erupt from the still air around me.

I got a... a... bat? Hardly noticing the sound of the exit barring itself, I examined the strange object grasped by my dust-ridden hand. It was basically a dark, wooden cylinder, about 30 centimeters long. On one end there was a slightly wider cap topped with a round bauble of a lighter wood; on the other end was similar cap, this one bearing a handle a little longer than my hand, ending in another bauble of wood. To make it even odder, the cylinder had a long, spiraling line scored into it, wrapping its way around the main body of the item. Wrapped around the center was a deep mauve ribbon sealed with a white blob of wax, complete with an odd coat of arms. What was this thing?

[September]

After another few minutes, I could not contain my curiosity. The seal was a pair of heavily stylized skulls orbiting around each other, leaving trails of smoke behind them, spinning in an endless circle. To make things even more curious, the wax seemed slightly phosphorescent. The worst was the tag tied around the handle, though. On a thin piece of mauve thread there was a thick parchment tag that bore, in faded calligraphy, this inscription:

CAUTION:
Monster Inside

If that wasn't terrifying enough, on the other side of the paper another hand had scrawled, "Open it. Trust me, you won't regret it." I couldn't decide what was worse--the fact that there was somehow a monster inside of this club, or the fact that I desperately wanted to open the thing. My mind raged, deep in tumultuous conflict. I had no desire to face any monster inside of this small space, but I was dying to know how any monster could fit inside such a thin tube--It couldn't be more than 7 cm in diameter. Finally, I decided to figure out how to leave this cave, then I'd open it in a wider area. Standing, I turned toward the doorway I entered from... Only to discover it was barred by cold, grey steel. Keese! How was I going to get out? I couldn't see any other doors anywhere...

I searched the walls for any hidden doors or switches, but to no avail. I was beginning to get the sneaking suspicion that in order to leave I'd have to open the bat. Sighing, I examined the rotten thing to see if there was any instructions on how to open it. Finally, I discovered a pair of arrows rotating around the base that had the handle attached to it. The arrows were vaguely reminiscent of the skulls in the seal, and were pointing in a counter-clockwise direction. I guess you have to turn the handle that way. Well, if I'm going to open the thing, I oughta be prepared. Setting the wooden tube on the sandy floor, I pulled Malbe's knife from my belt. Stabilizing the tube with one claw, I gripped the handle in the other. Raising my dagger, I got ready to twist the handle.

[September]

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but that just leaves the bird free, right?

With a sharp flick of my ankle, I cracked the canister open. With a fwoosh, the thing opened along the spiral seam, disintegrating the ribbon and bursting the wax seal. Smoke poured out of the spiraling crevasse, dark, purple, and ominous. Quicker than my mind could process, the smoke condensed into a long, green serpent--A rope. Startled, not by the monster--I was expecting something--but by the fact that I magically knew what it was, I gasped as it bulled into my chest, knocking me backwards. Deciding slaying the rope would be smarter than sitting around trying to figure out how I knew it was called a rope I backed off as it reared back for another charge. Undulating vertically, it made a second dash towards me.

I'm not going to lie; I panicked. What was I doing? I'd never fought anything before! Heh; the only thing I knew how to do was run away! Instinctively jumping away from the charging creature, I heard an odd clang behind me. Turning, I found myself looking at an interesting spectacle: the rope had pounced straight into the gate, wedging his fat head in between two bars of the grille. Carefully stepping to the gate, I stood with my dagger posed, hesitantly ready to strike. Scaring me half to death, the snake suddenly whipped its tail in an angry spasm. Acting more out of shock than anything, I stabbed my dagger into the monster's smooth skin.

A moment later, the monster burst into purple smoke, leaving behind a slip of paper:

"IT'S A SECRET TO EVERYBODY."

[September]

I'm beginning to feel a whole lot more feline, now. What did this slip of paper have to do with all of this? What is a secret? The room? The tube? Could I put another monster into the bat? Who put this thing here? Who fed a slip of paper to a rope? How in the world do I know it's a rope? I haven't read any bestiaries... They never really caught my interest. Not as much as stories and history, anyways...

Still clutching the odd piece of parchment, I sheathed my dagger absently and picked up the now burst cylinder. Dananana... I got a chunk of wood. As if in a trance, I wandered through the now unbarred doorway. The torchlight was long invisible by the time I realized I was still walking upright. Shouldn't the tunnel be going downward, as well? I faintly recall the crawl being vaguely slanted up... Urgh. Yet more questions. Trying hard not to dwell on them (I knew it would turn me keesish... disgusting wannabe birds), I continued my upward journey 'till I found myself in a well lit--no, sunlit--room. It was a fairly spacious, round cave with a wide opening out onto the grassy plain. The sun's kiss was a welcome sight. I almost rushed outside, but something in the center of cave caught my attention. A book. An old book. Creeping up to the pedestal it rested on, I found a familiar slip of paper resting on the cover:

"IT'S DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE! TAKE THIS."

Same block letters. Same bizzare style. Huh. Somehow I feel like this was orchestrated. The fall, the cave, the book... It felt... personalized. And yet, at the same time, ancient. Somehow I knew this book had the answers I was looking for, though. Grabbing the dusty tome, I made my way outside. As soon as my talons touched the grassy earth, the cave disappeared, leaving nothing but the craggy surface of Dragon Roost behind.

[September]

Not real. This entire thing simply cannot be real. It's ridiculous. Bizarre. Uncanny. Odd. Keesey. Crazy. Ridiculous. Everything was so wrong, and yet so right. I hated and loved the whole situation. The book wasn't helping either. If you can call it a book, at any rate. It's not like any book I've read, at any rate. Oh--it looks normal enough, all right, but the contents are ridiculous. The first few pages were complete balderdash. The hand-written sentences were insanity in written form. I don't even know why I kept flipping through. The cold stone touching my back was a constant reminder of the odd situation--moments ago the wall was a cave.

Turning one last page, I prepared to throw the book in disgust. Gazing at the blank pages spread before me, I almost chucked it then and there. I would have, too, if I hadn't been interrupted by the book writing itself--in a completely different hand, mind you.

Dear Reader:
My, you are a tenacious one. Well, I suppose I can suppose that since you have triggered this spell you are either the one supposed to receive this, a raving lunatic, or a curious thief. Seeing that Mimvun put a curse on this to prevent thievery, and Jugn placed a tricky incantation to distract loons, however, I can only suppose you are supposed to get this.

I couldn't believe my eyes. To make matters worse, the next paragraph was in yet another hand:

Congratulations! Did you enjoy our game? (I do hope the last owner prepared something as fun as I did)

What you are holding in your hands is a tome of knowledge. Not just any knowledge, however. This is a moste esoteric knowledge. Frowned on by some, loved by others, hated by a number. The best part? You get to choose which. Choose carefully, however. Some things, once done, cannot be changed. A reputation is a hard thing to reverse.

Game? What kind of knowledge? What is he (they?) talking about? Questions boiled in my mind, but I ignored them, hoping that the strange book would answer them. I continued reading, completely blind to the outside world. Twice I tried to flip back to reread something, only to be met with a page with this scrawled on it:

Nice try, but no dice. The knowledge you need is ahead, not behind.

I soon realized whoever wrote that message was right. The book explained so much. It made my magic make sense. It explained in a way that almost seemed targeted to me. I got the impression it had other knowledge hidden away--several times I thought I saw a page change as I was turning it, almost as if it were hiding things I wasn't ready for. The handwriting changed often. The author(s) often referred to what magicians with odd names did to the book--a spell here, a passage written there... The whole thing was so bizarre. It was like reading an entire library devoted to a single subject, complete with librarian to choose the best book for your level of knowledge, all condensed into a single volume. Needless to say, I was engrossed.