How long has it been? since he had run like this? years at least. His breath, slow and raspy. Sweat which dripped from his forehead. And even then with all that effort he could barely keep up with the hound in front of him.
They were chasing a beast. Who had stolen their friend. Through the winding green corridors of stone and bush. Over broken gaps in the floor. low staircases of one or two steps that made Jakurk trip and fall. Yet it was a chase they could not afford to lose. Tristin was a member of their party, and also the one with the map, and most of their belongings.
"Come on!" Opip was exhausted. Hounds lacked stamina for long distance runs. Even then she moved at a far greater pace then the old mage. He was slowly getting further and further behind her. While the Noem was slowly getting farther and farther away.
They rounded a corner and suddenly the path became wider and more clear. With both less debris and plants. Even then the chase continued. The Noem knew the land, the adventurers did not. It activated a trap on purpose. A pitfall, fifteen metres deep, spikes at the bottom. With its speed it made it across as the floor gave away. Once on the other side safe and sound it turned back for a glans. Hoping to see its pursuers fall or stop at their paths end. But they did not.
Opip jumped, no she leapt from the end of the gap, the distance to the other side was eight metres, Opip made it almost half before her momentum seized. Even then her eyes did not turn away from her target.
"/o/-o" It seemed she had placed her thrust in the right place. Within a moment she was on the other side above the Beast. She landed atop it and bore her sword right into its back and out through its stomach on the other side. Sweet victory.
"Everything okay?" A shout came from the other side of the pitfall. The tired mage had taken a moment to breath and sit down.
"I want a larger salary" The answer caused both of them to laugh. It was a good joke, it wasn't intended to be more than that, just a joke to lighten the mood.
"Done" Jakurk had come to understand one thing over the course of the past few days. He was no longer in his youth. It was something he had wished to ignore something he did not want to come to terms with. Something he still was not ready to face. But at least for now he could do well to recognise the need he had for others. Or his goal to claim a smouldering soul wouldn't come to fruition. Paying an honest wage was the first step. "Is Tristin alive?"
"Hes out cold, but alive" The hill folk looked as if he was sleeping. Although it sort of locked like he was having a nightmare. Opip gently scooped him up from the floor and placed him over her shoulder. "Easy to carry"
"Good, it would cost a fortune to pay for his resurrection, and even harder to find someone on the island who could do it" Three lives. Three lives for each creature on this land of white mountain peaks, green valleys, rainy seas and deep caverns. A person can come back from death three times although with each time they lose a little of themselves. Memories, feelings, thoughts, identity, intellect and so on. If you were to bring someone back a fourth time, it would be something else. Neither Opip nor Tristin had ever felt death's cold embrace Jakurk had.
"Tristin has a map in his backpack, Can you take a look and see where we are?" Jakurk asked. The pitfall made itself a very big hassle. It was a path none of them could cross. And with how old the fortress was it could be days before it returned to its previous shape. They would need to find a different path to meet up and reorganise.
Opip fished up a wrinkly stained map from the bowls of Tristins backpack. Lines, squares, circles and other symbols and words were jumbled together in different colours and formations to a point where every inch of the paper was overtaken by pattern and linework. It was no understatement that it was well used and home made. "Of course… we are.. we are… we… this map is broken"
"Okay.. There are a few passages to the right, two on your side and one on mine, perhaps they meet somewhere?" Jakurk stared into the empty winding corridors of green and lush bush and vines. A silent laughter of animal, the squeal of some kind of bird and the buzzing of insects. And a lonely path. "Lets do it like this, il shout apple and when you hear it you shout party, if we cant hear each other well go back to where we came"
"Good plan" And so they both stood in front of a path of their own, unsure of how far they'd travel alone. Or at least in Opip's case she had someone on her shoulder. Opip's path was lush with greenery on its right side, and drenched in water on its left. Jakurks path was cold and damp, it seemed dark and cold.
"Apple" Jakurk began to shout the second he stepped into his path. He heard the first letters from his companion "Pa" Then the path behind him closed as the wall itself shot down and darkness enveloped his path. He was alone in the dark.
"Party" no reply. Opip continued for a minute or so into her tunnel but when no apple came she returned back to the room. As luck would have it the floor of the pitfall had returned but the mage was nowhere to be seen. And neither was his path.
"These tracks are new" An unknown voice. Five grass folk, an earthfolk and a few hill folk or other hidden in the dark. They came from the corridors in which Opip and Jakurk had recently run a marathon though. Fellow adventurers what a blessing, perhaps they had a map of the area or at least had someone who could take a look at Tristin. "HEY! Over here!" She waved a friendly hand in the air. But then she slowly stopped. She shouldn't have returned to this room.
The cloaks and leather armour they adorned was rough. Bloody and covered by dirt. Even though they had weapons and armour for hunting they had neither caught nor shot any game. If they had come from the same area as Opip they would have seen the other dead Noems, skinned them and taken anything valuable but they had no such skins with them nor of any animal at all.
"I guess we found them, a pair, same as the prints" Opip felt the temperature of the room sink or perhaps it was just her own. These people were not adventurers. They were bandits.
"Go" Three of the grassfolk charged forth. Across the wide cobblestone room. The others readied their crossbows. And Opip waited. The earthfolk, seemingly the leader of the group, fired first an iron bolt which flew past his companions straight towards the hounds head. A tired slightly wounded adventurer with either a corpse or a wounded companion on her shoulder should be an easy prey.
Opip saw it, the bolt. Even at its speed far greater than an arrow. She could see it, she could catch it. With just one hand and in one swift moment she did and threw it not towards the bandits but towards the stone in the floor which triggered the trap. Easy. Three grass folk ran, three grass folk fell down.
"DAMNIT" Enraged the earthfolk, ordered the rest of his band to fire. A swift volley of bolts. Opip ducked although not fast enough as one ripped open Tristins back pack. Causing both their supplies and coins to fall out across the floor. But that was not important right now. Opip saw her chance and dashed right into the passage she should have taken from the start. And so it became a game of cat and mouse. Who would win only time could tell.