Scribe 266
The pitch blackness seemed to blot out every corner of reality. As though to suck said reality into some horribly vile void for which, surely, there was no escape! Or so the Scribe of Nightsong, Oliver, thought, as his eyes seemed to become lost in the nothingness. He searched for some wisp of light, some rare reflection– anything to give him some sort of anchor! Alas, all to no avail! It was as though his eyes were swimming in darkness.
Moments before, he had been studying the impressively massive ‘Frostgate’, which would, at last, lead him, and his entire party, down into the bowels of the mountain; into the very city of the Mountain Dwarves, a city known as Dath’ryn’vale.
He vaguely remembered the impetuous demon, an imp by the name of Fazhalby, suddenly force himself into the forefront. Had the demon somehow betrayed the small fellowship of adventurers? – Dragged them from their rightful quest? Sunk them into the darkest depths of the Vale? The creepy tingling up the scribe’s arms and hollow, icy pit in his stomach, assured– these were not delightful thoughts!
The voice came from his right, “Iloomyn’naut’aye!” And with the magical word, came a sudden luminescent ball of magical light.
“There. That should do it!” Bartello announced as the ball lit up, not only his heavily mustached face- gleaming off his oversized spectacles, but the entire corridor.
Oliver recognized the spell as a small cantrip. One he probably should have thought to use himself… he felt he probably would have gotten around to it. You know, once he realized how silly he was acting.
Oliver blinked away the sparkles as his eye’s were forced to adjust. He found finely carved brickwork, masterfully done, made up the structure that surrounded him. He recognized it immediately as dwarven in make… which at the very least, reassured him, he was not sucked into the Vale… yet, where was the imp? Where were his other companions?
Before him stood only Bartello. Although upon closer inspection, he found the dog, Agro, whimpering behind the old librarian. Apparently, the brave animal had qualms with the level of darkness they had suddenly found themselves within as well. Where could everyone else have gotten off to? Was one of many questions he struggled with.
“So, wait,” Oliver said, then asked the most pressing aloud, “we need light now?”
“Of course we need light!” Bartello answered as he guided the mystical bauble, levitating before him, in each direction of the newfound corridor. Clearly, pondering what way was the best way, before cocking his head and asking, “Why wouldn’t we need light?”
“Well, I mean, we just came from a place called ‘the Labyrinth of Darkness’”, Oliver set up, before knocking down, “We didn’t need a light there!”
“Of course not,” Bartello explained, “the Archmage Kaldain Lyanth has cast a spell of illumination upon the Library of Nightsong! It creates a constant guiding light spell, wherever one may need it. And, in point of fact, turns itself off whenever one doesn’t. The spell is active for anyone, anywhere on the grounds… that includes under it,” Bartello said pointedly, before adding, “Which would include the Labyrinth of Darkness!”
“Huh! That is convenient!” Oliver exclaimed. “I guess I never realized… I HAVE spent most of my days there.”
“Yes, well,” Bartello nodded as he adjusted his spectacles “Wizards really don’t have the same problems, other people have. The more time you spend away, the more… little quibbles… you’ll notice when compared with the ‘common folk’. If you get my meaning.”
“Hey!” another voice carried from the shadows. “You guys coming or what?”
Oliver recognized the voice immediately, “Aticus? Is that you?”
“Of course it is!” Aticus returned from somewhere before them, “Who else would it be?”
“We can’t see you…” Oliver called back.
“Oh right!” Aticus said apologetically, “I forgot– you lot can’t see in the dark, like the rest of us!”
“I guess everyone’s got a different take on ‘problems’,” Oliver muttered to Bartello as he followed the librarian down the Corridor, on their way to meet up with their missing party members… somewhere in the darkness ahead. The dog, Agro, charged forward, seemed a bit more at ease now that the light had revealed their surroundings. “Anyone know how we got here?” Oliver asked as the mystical light enveloped the entire group. A group which now included the dwarven warrior Aticus, the imp Fazhalby, and the increasingly grumpy dwarven lass known as Mila.
“Oh, well, that’d be my doing,” the small demon, Faz, confessed, “I realized I could just ‘narrate’ us further along! So, I brought us here!”
“Well, where is here?” Bartello asked.
“Um, just ‘deep inside the dwarven City of Dath’ryn’vale’ was all I said… so…” the imp shrugged and seemed to ponder, “Yeah, I guess I should have been more specific!”
“Things really don’t feel right,” Oliver noted.
“I know,” Fazhalby nodded, “I think I must have broken something- things don’t really feel the same…”
“Yeah, it’s a lot ‘wordier’,” Oliver tried, unsure what to call the strange brokenness they were all experiencing, “…or something!”
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