Chapter 15: The Man in Black

         “Strange weather we’ve been having as of late.”

         “The booming thunder continues each night. It’s as if the gods are having some sort of quarrel.”

         “You two know nothing! It used to rain like this all the time! We’re just getting a few days of storms and nothing more. It’s nothing to worry about!”

         “I haven’t seen the sun in weeks! You say we shouldn’t worry?”

         The constant chattering of thirsty patrons floated through The Gryphon’s Roost, and Shenk sat at the end of the bar absorbing it all. A few days had passed since Isac’s death, and their next plan of action had yet to be decided. Even if they devised some plan, he had a feeling they wouldn’t want him along. What good had he brought to the group? Deep down he believed that he only complicated matters somehow. So he sat hunched over the bar with his hands wrapped around a mug of ale.

         “A round for me and my friend here,” came a voice beside him. Shenk turned his head and locked eyes with Grom. He returned to his drink without saying a word to his dwarven companion. The bartender passed two mugs over to them, leading Shenk to lift his old tankard and gulp down the rest of his drink. Slamming down the empty container, he burped so loud that it shook the very bar and made a few patrons near him fall silent and stare in his direction for a moment.

         “I figured I might find you here,” Grom said, sliding his fingers around the handle of his own mug. His labored words came out in almost a sigh of exhaustion. He ran his other hand along the side of his wearied face.

         Shenk did not respond, keeping his eyes on the mug resting between his hands.

         “This has been a hard time for all of us, Shenk. I just wanted to find you and let you know that you did as much as the rest of us back there. We couldn’t help what happened, and we all did our best to save Cloey. We have to move on now and keep Isac in our thoughts,” Grom said, watching Shenk for some sort of reaction.

         “I’d rather have Isac along with us than in our memories,” Shenk said, lifting up the fresh mug and taking a long swill. He slammed down his cup with his left hand and pressed his right over his face.

         “We all miss Isac,” Grom began, pausing a moment as the thoughts of his death entered his mind again, “He wouldn’t want us all sitting around here crying over his passing. He’d want us to go out and continue with what we were trying to do all this time. He would want us to go out and protect this land and the people that he cared about. We can’t do that by drowning our sorrows in some tavern.”

         Shenk lifted his mug again, pressing it to his lips. He hesitated and set the glass back down without taking a drink.

         “You know that’s the truth,” Grom said, placing a hand on Shenk’s shoulder.

         “You’re probably right,” Shenk began, turning his head toward Grom, “Even Isac would know that drinking at a time like this wouldn’t help. I just don’t know what to do. We lost the amulet, and that was the key to everything.”

         “I don’t think that’s everything,” Grom said, scratching his beard, “What about that ruby Renant wanted us to get? If only we knew exactly where to look, we could get to the gem before Mortillus does.”

         The front doors to the tavern burst open, and a man wearing a ragged cloak stumbled into the room, nearly tripping over the dragging material. The hood of the cloak shielded the young man’s face from view, but Grom caught a glimpse of his light brown eyes that darted back and forth with fear. The patrons gave him strange looks as he fell against the bar near Grom and Shenk, knocking a half-filled glass behind the bar. The shattering glass hushed the noisy establishment for a moment, but the laughter of a drunk bought the same from the rest of the paying customers.

         “What the hell’s the matter with you, boy?” the bartender asked, reaching for a rag to clean the mess.

         “I’m looking for a soldier or guard or someone that can help!” the young man cried, leaning heavily on the bar to keep him upright as he struggled to catch his breath.

         “What seems to be the trouble?” Grom asked. He turned away from his drink and companion and eyed the panicked kid with a mix of concern and confusion.

         “A troop of men passed near the city! They were clad in black armor and carried the most terrifying flag! There was a clawed hand on it with blood dripping through the fingers. I was traveling the road when they came by, and I hid in some bushes nearby. Among the men was a beautiful elf woman with skin the color of night and a pale man in the grandest armor that I have ever laid my eyes upon! The sword that hung by his side was covered, but the handle looked like it was made from some sort of black metal. There was a terrifying face of a demon or some sort of creature on the handle, and there was some sort of hole or socket where the mouth should be. I don’t know where they were heading, but they traveled north past here!” the young man sputtered out in a jumble of heaving breaths.

         “What did you just say?” Grom asked and snatched the quivering lad by his cloak. He pulled him in close and shook him until the kid answered.

         “Just what I said! They passed by here just the other day! I was making my way into town with a message for a young woman my master fancies. When I saw them, I knew I had to hurry here and tell someone. They moved with such speed! It was as if they had some ill purpose about them. I would not imagine such a group traveling without an ill purpose in mind,” the man sputtered, shaking even more now than when he first stumbled into the tavern.

         Grom grunted and loosened his hold on the cloak. The young man stumbled back through the crowd of people and began shouting for a guard as soon as he was out the door. Grom stood and searched his pockets, pulling out and dropping a small pile of copper coins on the bar top for the drinks. Motioning to Shenk, he stood and walked to the doors. Torn between curiosity and thirst, Shenk hesitated but pushed his drink away and followed Grom into the busy city. Dark clouds still loomed overhead, veiling the town with a foreboding feeling.

         “Do you think that the men he talked about are from Mortillus?” Shenk asked.

         “Without a doubt, and they’re on their way to that volcano to get that ruby,” Grom replied.

         Grom’s face twisted as many different feelings and emotions surfaced at the same moment. Part of him revealed a strong feeling of worry, which he did his best to try and subdue. The other part of him shone with a new resolve that he had lacked since Isac’s death. As if he were suddenly compelled to move, he rushed away from the town and toward the secluded temple. Shenk followed, lacking a definite path of his own; he trusted in the leadership skills that Grom displayed but didn’t realize he possessed. They marched through the garden and right up to the doors of the temple that were left open. Upon entering, they were met by the gentle smile of Ivalice, who was making his way to exit as they stepped in.

         “You both come in haste. Is something the matter?” Ivalice asked, bowing his head before them.

         “Where are Prescott and Cloey?” Grom asked.

*                    *                    *

         While Grom inquired on her whereabouts, Cloey stood under the dark sky and gazed down at Isac’s gravestone. She read his name over and over again, but she forced all emotion from her face.

         “You always were a real pain in my butt,” she spoke to the mound of earth and the etched stone as if he could actually hear her words. The corners of her lips curled upward ever so slightly as she thought about all the times they had fought back and forth like siblings. Siblings. That was something that she had never really thought about before. Her thoughts drifted back to her parents’ rundown house and how much she missed seeing them. Life as a common thief had been a lonely one, but that all changed on that fateful day in the streets of Oneria. She realized then that not only Isac, but the rest of the group were like brothers to her. She tried to push her feelings away, finding them too painful to withstand.

         “He was a pain in mine, too,” came the voice of Prescott. He stepped beside her, and his eyes kept watch on the same spot she stared at, as if he were expecting a hand would spring from the grave. “He may have been a pain, but I still miss him greatly.”

         “I never got to tell you how sorry I am. Losing a brother is hard, and I know that first hand. I have an older brother named Joseph. He left home when I was only a child. Mama told me he went to work as an apprentice in a leather shop. It turned out that he made too many mistakes and was fired. Joey turned to thievery in order to survive, until he was caught looting the purse of a noblewoman. He was hanged, and we didn’t find out until two months later. Mama was devastated by the news, and like now, I didn’t know how to cope with the loss,” Cloey said, turning her gaze away from the stone slab and up toward Prescott.

         “Always remember, Cloey,” Prescott began, looking down at her and offering a small smile, “You never truly lose a loved one to the grip of death. They still exist in your mind, heart, and soul. One day my brother and I will be rejoined in another life. When that day comes, I promise that I shall treat him like an equal–like a brother.”

         “Prescott! Cloey!” Grom shouted from the distance. They both turned away from the tombstone and watched Grom and Shenk race through the garden toward them. When they came to a stop, both Grom and Shenk knelt down and placed their hands on their knees to catch their breath.

         “What’s all the shouting about?” Cloey asked, eyebrows scrunching up.

         “We heard a rumor that a small group of soldiers passed near Anon heading north. Among them was a dark elf woman and a man wearing black armor,” Grom said between gasping breaths.

         “A dark elf woman,” Cloey repeated in a whisper. She could feel those uncaring eyes watching her; a chill ran up her spine.

         “They carried flags with the symbol from that island, Mortillus,” Shenk added.

         “How long ago was this,” Prescott asked.

         “About a day ago,” Grom answered, eagerness hanging on each word.

         “What are we waiting for?” Cloey squeaked, “Let’s go!”

         “What about the elders? Shouldn’t we say goodbye to them, especially your father?” Shenk asked, looking over at Prescott.

         Prescott thought a moment, but shook his head. “We don’t have the time. We should leave at once.”

         “Then we leave now,” Grom commanded with a booming, king-like voice. The others felt uplifted for a moment by his strong words, and they followed his lead away from the place of remorse and remembrance of their fallen friend. As they strode toward the bustle of the town, Vander watched from a window on the second floor of the temple. He let the white silk curtains fall back into place and turned his back on the gloom that shadowed the lands below.

         Clad in wet, tattered traveling cloaks, the four moved through the heavy crowds of Anon toward the front gates. They exited the city, each one eager to leave their troubled thoughts behind them. They traveled along the main road out of the city for some time. A chill wind blew at their backs the entire way, ushering them forward into the unknown. The gust of air sent a chill down Grom’s spine, and he rubbed at the back of his neck to calm himself. He turned his head toward the dark sky. Grom found the recent weather rather peculiar; he felt uneasy over the constant blanket that rested over the land. He longed for the shortest glimpse of a bright ray of light, but none came to dry the ground beneath their feet.

         “Why has the weather been so strange?” Cloey spoke up, searching for something to fill the silence.

         No one answered.

         “Prescott? You know about nature, right? Do you know why the sun hasn’t been out in weeks?” she asked, tugging at the back of his cloak.

         He looked down at Cloey with solemn eyes. His look troubled her, and she wrapped her own cloak tighter around her shoulders. Prescott turned back to the road ahead of him. “I do not know what is causing the drastic change with the weather. I have not seen this much rain come from such lingering storm clouds. The smell of the air has become thick like smoke. I distrust this weather. There is something unsettling about it.”

         “You can say that again,” Shenk muttered.

         “Follow close, now,” Prescott called back to his companions, “We must turn directly north from this road toward the great volcano.”

         Prescott led the way from the worn and traveled road across a field of tall grass. They pushed the towering vegetation aside, and Cloey was forced to keep hold of Shenk’s cloak so she wouldn’t accidentally get lost. They eventually found their way out of the grass and onto a path that appeared to have been traveled recently. Plants had been cut out of the way, creating a straight road with green leaves and stems as a barrier on either side.

         “This grass is taller than I am!” Cloey shouted, looking from side to side, “Hasn’t anyone heard of cultivation?”

         “There are many lands left unsettled, Cloey. Humanoids are not the only creatures in this vast world. The animals of the wild need a place to live as well,” Prescott explained.

         “C’mon, they could use some of this land to expand Anon’s borders a bit. Maybe then people could actually walk through the streets without running into one another,” Cloey said, itching for an argument. Had Prescott been more like his younger brother, he might have continued the fight, but he merely grumbled and continued onward, much to Cloey’s disappointment.

         The path seemed to stretch forward without end, leading them away from all signs of civilization. The only thing that they could see was the ground leading ahead and behind them and the gray clouds hanging above their heads. The sky shook with a rumble of thunder, and Cloey once again grabbed hold of Prescott’s cloak. Prescott did not seem to mind; however, he motioned for his companions to stop, and he stepped forward a few paces, kneeling down toward the ground. He pushed aside some of the vegetation and murmured in a low growl. “There are several tracks here, definitely left by a human . . . make that several humans. They hacked their way through, looking for the fastest way north.”

         No one said a word in response; they all knew not to question Prescott’s tracking ability. They continued on, Grom moving past Cloey and following behind Prescott. Before too long, the height of the grass and vegetation lowered considerably, leveling out into a flat field. To the east ran the edge of a forest, and to the north they could see a barren landscape. The lush green of plant life faded into the lifeless gray of rock.

         “Our destination lies a few days north. The travel will be easy at first, but it will not remain that way for long,” Prescott said.

         “There’s no time to waste,” Grom said, striding ahead of the rest of his companions. Prescott hurried after him.

         “Don’t get too far ahead, Grom. We need to pace ourselves,” Prescott said, grabbing Grom’s shoulder.

         “The longer we keep to this crawling pace, the farther behind we fall,” Grom said, swatting Prescott’s hand away, “Those bastards are going to pay for everything they’ve put me through!”

         “What they have put you through?” Prescott shouted. He grabbed Grom’s shoulder again and spun him around. Angered eyes shook the bones of Grom’s body. The half-elf pressed his fingers into his shoulder with an uncanny amount of force. “Do not forget that we have gone through the same ordeals. Until you lose the most important person in your life, I do not want to hear you complain about things being unfair. I am well aware of the pain that loss can bring. Now, we will continue our current pace because I do not wish to see those I have left die from carelessness.”

         Grom lowered his head to escape Prescott’s condemning eyes. Prescott released his hold and turned back toward the northern path.

         Cloey and Shenk stood back and watched the argument unfold. Shenk nudged Cloey with his massive hand and smiled down at her.

         “What good will smiles bring now, Shenk?” Cloey demand ignoring his warm gesture. Her expression reflected a complete emptiness that could not be filled by sunshine smiles or verdant laughter. Taking in a deep breath, she trudged forward, and Shenk slouched his shoulders and followed.

         The grass beneath their feet gave way to dried, cracked soil, and after a drawn-out journey, they decided it would be best to rest for the night. At least they thought it was night. The darkness that had followed them lingered, masking day as night. The unmistakable cold air and furthering darkness signaled the end of a trying day’s travel.

         Grom strayed away from his companions to gather wood for a fire as well as to clear his racing mind. He ventured to the forested area nearby and trod along its edge. Decaying gray limbs shook back and forth in the gusts of wind as if they served as a warning for Grom to turn back the way he came. He ignored the trees’ gesturing and the ghostly whistling of the wind through their swaying branches. He bent down and lifted one of the old hardwood’s heavy arms. He went to break the tall, sturdy stick over his knee, but he couldn’t bring himself to snap it in two. The branch stretched out like a gnarled, wooden staff. Corpselike fingers materialized and touched Grom’s hand, causing him to jump back and topple onto the ground. The broken piece of wood fell from his grasp, seized away by the fleeting specter.

         As he scrambled to his feet, a scurrying sound caught his attention. He tensed and closed his eyes, focusing on the rustling noises around him. For a moment the disturbance stopped and the only thing filling the eerie silence was the whistling winds. Before he could relax, he heard the strange sounds rise up once again and realized they came from the direction of the forest. A snap of a branch broke through the whirring winds and moaning trees.

         With a trembling hand, Grom grabbed the gnarled branch he had dropped and lobbed it like a javelin in the direction of the commotion. Something stirred and darted off deeper into the forest, and Grom moved without thought to chase after. Despite his stocky legs, he gained ground on the fleeing creature and dove at the scurrying thing. His hands groped for something to cling to, and he successfully grabbing hold of a scaly leg. The creature cried out and kicked its other foot to try and escape, but Grom kept a firm grasp. With a mighty tug, he pulled the thing close to him. Finally able to take a closer look, his eyes narrowed with disgust.

         “You again! Are you following us so that you might bring more harm upon me and my friends?” Grom growled down at the cowering figure. He pulled the quivering kobold from the ground and looked into its beady black eyes.

         “No hurt Kravitz!” the kobold screamed, no longer flailing his arms or legs. Fear took hold of his entire body, which trembled like the branches above their heads. “Kravitz mean you no harm!”

         “I’m sure Kravitz doesn’t!” Grom shouted back, “Just like when you left me with those orcs. I’m sure you meant me no harm then, too. How about when you and your buddies thought it would be funny to try and rob me while I slept? You were just doing that out of sheer kindness, right?”

         “Please, listen! Kravitz no mean to hurt you! Bad orcs kill me if I don’t help them. Kravitz had no choice! Kravitz very sorry!” the kobold cried out again, tears rolling down his scaled face.

         “You honestly expect me to believe a single word coming out of that long snout of yours?” Grom asked, smacking the end of his nose, “What are you doing snooping around these lands? And you better tell the truth because I’m not in the mood for anymore of your lies.”

         “Kravitz run very far away from land. I go back later to orc camp, but camp was filled with fire! I watched from distance. Few orcs manage to escape in forest. Dark elf man and others walk from big flame. They no see me, but I run anyway. I end up here, but no sooner I find place to rest, I hear voices. Man in black armor marched past here with men and horsies. More dark elves with him, too. I hid good so they no see me. Then you tackle me and here I am,” Kravitz explained. Grom studied the little wretch’s face as he told his story. He detected no lie in those deep-set eyes.

         “How long ago did they pass through here?” Grom questioned.

         “They head toward mountains past here earlier today when sun supposed to be high in sky,” Kravitz sputtered out.

         “You’re coming with me,” Grom decided aloud, grasping Kravitz’s arm and dragging him back toward the camp. Kravitz howled and tried to pull away, but found his attempts to escape Grom’s mighty grasp useless. The unlikely pairing returned to Grom’s companions, who sat huddled around a small campfire. The flames crackled and produced a faint, warm glow all around them.

         “Finally, some more firewood! Now we can really get this fire going!” Cloey exclaimed, jumping to her feet at the sound of footsteps. She stopped and stared as she realized that Grom wasn’t bringing wood of any sort. She gazed at the quivering creature Grom dragged behind him and blinked her eyes. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I don’t think kobolds make for good firewood.”

         “No cook Kravitz! Kravitz sorry! Fire bad!” Kravitz shrieked, his whole body shaking and convulsing. His eyes darted from the fire to the rest of the companions. When his gaze fell upon Shenk, he shrieked even louder.

         “Will you shut up! You’re going to wake all of Feldos!” Grom yelled, keeping a vicelike hold on his wrist.

         “Who do we have here? A spy?” Prescott asked. He did not bother rising to his feet; he remained seated next to the fire with his hands outstretched toward the flame.

         “Apparently he isn’t much of a spy if Grom managed to catch him,” Cloey said, stepping over toward them. She rubbed her chin and hummed. Kravitz stood at about her height, and he stared back at her. A grin spread across her face, and she snickered. “Can we feed him to Shenk?”

         Kravitz’s jaw dropped, and he let out a dry, wheezing gasp. The half-orc stepped up behind Cloey and grinned, teeth gleaming in the dancing fire.

         “I think I remember catching a certain thief with a big mouth trying to sneak purses in the streets of Oneria,” Grom said with a grin.

         Cloey stuck out her tongue as a response and crossed her arms over her chest.

         “This is Kravitz,” Grom continued. Kravitz began to thrash about again in an attempt to free himself. All the time his eyes remained focused on the monstrous Shenk. “He’s the one who led me to the orc encampment and left me for dead.”

         Cloey’s face twitched as if a nerve had been pinched. She growled and threw up her hands. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s cut him open and have some roasted kobold meat for dinner! I’m starving!”

         Kravitz shrieked again in a pitch so high that Prescott clapped both hands against his ears and cringed in pain. Having heard enough, Grom bonked the kobold on the noggin, smacking him hard enough to bring about silence. Kravitz whimpered and rubbed the top of his head, lowering his eyes away from Cloey and Shenk.

         “He told me that the soldiers we are looking for traveled past here earlier in the day. I think we can catch up with them if we move on tonight,” Grom said.

         Cloey groaned out in disapproval and shook her head. “Can you really trust that little snake? What if he’s lying to you again? He could be leading us right into another trap. The creepy lizard’s probably working for the dark elves. Why else would he be here? I think it’d be better to just tie him to a nice piece of wood and toss him in the fire.”

         “Kravitz not lie! Kravitz swear by the name of great sorcerer Edwin that he not lie! Please, you must believe words! Men and dark elves pass by here, head toward mountain!” Kravitz screamed, his legs buckling from under him. He landed on his backside, his arm still held up by Grom.

         “Either way, I do agree with Grom,” Prescott said, rising to his feet. Grom stared at him, surprised by his sudden shift in attitude. “We must not linger for too long. If we make haste, we might make our destination by the next nightfall.”

         “What about our new friend?” Shenk asked, motioning to the defeated Kravitz.

         “Well, we can’t leave him here. If he’s really a spy, then we can’t have him running back to whoever he’s working for,” Grom said, releasing hold of Kravitz’s wrist. Cloey gawked, puzzled by Grom’s choice to let him go. Grom knelt down in front of Kravitz and put his face only a hand-width away from his elongated nose. “You’re going to follow us, alright? You know more about this area than anyone, so we may need your help. As soon as we find the mountain, you’re free to leave. Do we have a deal?”

         Kravitz nodded.

         “Good,” Grom said, “We’ll rest here for a while longer and have a bite to eat. We’ll need our strength if we’re going to make it to the volcanic mountains without a full night’s sleep.”

         Grom could see Cloey’s disgust at the idea of going on without sleep. She plopped down near the fire and sighed. Shenk scooted closer to her and tried to cheer her up with a big, goofy smile, but she shied away from him. Shenk frowned and wiggled his hairy toes in front of the fire.

         Grom stepped away from Kravitz and over to his bag. He rummaged through it and tossed a bit of bundled cloth toward Kravitz. Lost in a daze, Kravitz failed to react in time to catch it. He stretched a clawed hand toward the now dusty cloth and unraveled it, revealing a bit of bread. He looked up to Grom, but he had walked toward the fire and sat down beside Prescott. Kravitz pulled off a small chunk of bread and nibbled on it. The thought of escaping into the woods crossed his mind, but something kept him there near the fire and all of these strangers.

         After they all had a bit to eat, Grom hoisted his bag over his shoulders and lifted his axe. He pulled himself upright and withdrew from the dying fire.

         “Let’s get moving.”

         Shenk and Cloey rose to their feet and reluctantly left the warmth and security of the fire. Prescott ran his hands along the ground and picked up a handful of dirt, tossing it on the smoldering flame, suffocating the last embers that strived to stay alive. They stepped beside Grom, who turned back and regarded Kravitz. The kobold crept to his feet and with slow steps followed them through the darkness.

ID: 955194   (Rated: 13+) Chapter 16: The Volcano  Grom and his companions travel into the depths of the volcano and find... by The Lemon