Chapter 6: The Dark Road

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And so they would venture onward with some divine guidance and some clarity of purpose, but still with countless unanswered questions. Their course would take them deeper underground to the Withered Road, a subterranean highway of sorts used mostly by the many Dark Elf colonies that survived in the bleak passages of the Fey Dark.

The party would ambush a patrol of Drow caravaners a few days into their journey and would be chased deeper into the tunnels by the caravan guards. It was then that they came to a great stone threshold complete with an enormous altar. The great gate was of ancient construction and despite lacking any knowledge of the construct, the Wizard, Carric knew it to be the entrance to "the tallest tower that no longer stands" that the Oracle mentioned to them some weeks earlier, and he was quick to examine the alter to decern its purpose. Of all things, the magical book from Iarno spoke to him then, demanding that it be placed on the altar with an inner voice that seemed to compel Carric to action.

He did so, whether of his own volition or not, and to everyone's astonishment the gate began to glow with arcane light and then disassemble itself. The party waited until the last possible second and then removed the book and rushed through the opening, allowing themselves to gain passage but blocking the way with a rain of boulders and magical stone. Thus they handily prevented any pursuit... and any escape.

It took several minutes of walking for the party to realize that the tower that they were searching for was in fact the very chamber that they walked through. How, on the other hand, a tower as apparently magnificent as this one managed to find itself buried deep in the Fey Dark was a mystery, but the wonders of its contents were indisputable.

Through the many chambers of the tower, chambers that were now tunnels, our heroes found countless treasures ripe for the taking and many enemies eager to defend them. They also found an unexpected ally in the form of a scruffy kobold rouge named Edoo who served as an unlikely guide to the party. Edoo took them through the many twisting and often perilous tunnels of the long ruined tower, and the group became fast friends with the curious little creature.

However, after several days of exploring the ruins, it appeared that there was one place in the Tower, or the "long-roundy-hole", as Edoo called it, that even the scrappy kobold was unwilling to go. A dark and foreboding place far at the end of the tower's length. A place where even the denizens that dwelled there seemed unwilling to go. Shadows flickered uneasily casting thin and wavering lines in the torchlight of the tunnel that led to the place.

When the rest of the party informed Edoo of the prophecy they had received and the "darkest place" it mentioned, Edoo resisted ferociously.

But after much argument and one effective ultimatum, the Kobold agreed to take them there if they promised to remain with him the whole time and through whatever took place afterward. The party, taken aback by the earnestness of the creature agreed, and so set off.

As the party started down the corridor in the direction of the cavern before them they couldn't have known what awaited them. The corridor wound back and forth for some minutes with the light receding until all that was left was that which they carried with them. Then after several more minutes, it seemed as if even those lights began to fade. The torches were still in use and their heat could certainly still be felt, but the light seemed lessened by the oppressive darkness until even the torches were snuffed out. They were immersed in it, true and utter darkness, and everyone stood unmoving for a long moment, unsure of what to do next.

Then it began, marked by the faint sound of lapping water far off in the distance. Something had acknowledged them and was beckoning for their approach. The entire space beyond was bathed in a deep otherworldly blackness, and the only thing notable was this far-off noise of water against... something. The air around them seemed to swirl in rhythm with the far-off tide, and it compelled them forward."

One by one they clumsily made their way, each seemingly farther away from the others with each successive step. Until it seemed as though each of their companion's splashing footfalls were but far off echos and each of them found themselves alone...

It is said that we can not truly know ourselves, not in the way that others can anyway. We are too close to gain a proper vantage point of our own being, so in order to catch a glimpse of who we are, we must view ourselves from a distance. And so we are able to catch these fleeting glimpses in the reflections of others. We come to know ourselves based on how we relate to those around us, and in so doing, they come to know themselves as well.

This is typically the truth of things, all of us acting as mirrors for each other, but there is also another way to know oneself. A more introspective way, where we become engrossed in who we believe ourselves to be, and so construct an image, however distorted, based on our own biases and presuppositions. The second method can be effective in its own way, forcing us to look critically at ourselves and picture what others might see, but it can be dangerous as well.

And so it is here in The Sunken Sea. a horrible and wretched place that also seemed to be both soothing and tranquil. In the waters of the sea all emotions are amplified, as with the gentle lapping of the waves so too would the presence of the place erode one's senses over time. It would make you one with the sea and draw out your innermost memories and most vulnerable truths. That is the way of Darkness.

Carric: The shadows cling to every corner of your vision, but for some reason, the darkness feels somewhat comfortable, it seems to obscure you as much as it obscures your surroundings. You feel Iarno's presence still but his consciousness has gone quiet. It is as though a weight has been lifted off your shoulders for the first time like a presence that has been looming over you for days has receded for the moment. This is just as unsettling though, as you soon start to wonder what it was that was looming over you in the first place.

Elxidor: Your surroundings are unfamiliar and dismal, and as you progress through the dark a kind of existential dread creeps up on you. You have been uncomfortable ever since you left the vast open plains of the lands above, but it is not until now that you think to truly consider that fact. It isn't just the claustrophobia that is closing in on you. You carry a host of other burdens as well, those of your loved ones and family on the surface, and the ruin that you apparently brought upon them. You trudge on, unwilling to show your discomfort, even if no one can see.

Edoo: You feel compelled forward almost against your will. While you have lived down here in the dark for your entire life you have always avoided places like this. Even the dimmest of corridors pose no concern for you, as long as there is some light you can find your way, but this is different, this is true darkness, and you rushed headlong into it feeling the sudden pang of fear as the small group of travelers stepped in and you thought, for the first time since being swept up with them, of the pain of being left behind. Now you clamber forward growing increasingly more panicked as the footsteps around you grow ever more dim.

Rori: Sweat drips down your brow as you trudge forward leading the pack. You are sure that this is what the oracle meant by "the darkest place" but what does it mean? What are you supposed to find here and how is it supposed to help you find your daughter? You feel anxious and uneasy, the weight that has been looming over you since you found yourself whisked away into this unfamiliar world is building to the point of hysteria. What is this place!? What are you doing here!?

Morrah: "The Darkness closes in and you feel frustration at first. This is just another delay on your journey to... to whatever this might all be for. You let out a long sigh as you consider the insanity of it all. Ever since you had been whisked away to this inexplicable place it has been one hardship after another. That was until that Oracle figure made its appearance anyway. And what was all that about Rori being the heart of the party anyway? Were they really so deserving of the Lady of Spring's praise, whoever that was? And did they really deserve that fabulous weapon when everyone else received mere trinkets? But it wasn't like you were jealous or anything, what would you have to be jealous of? You were the great and esteemed Morrah Moonshadow after all, heir to a fortune and head of one of the last great houses of the northlands.

All that remained of one of the last great houses anyway. To be honest you hadn't felt the same since the party was divided two tendays ago, but had been unable to understand why until now. You lost one of your closest friends during the tragedy at Stan's End. No, not Stan, you couldn't have cared less for that fool, and though you were fond enough of Thia and Lyra, the loss that really surprised you was Nizèl. The Dragonborn that you so detested when you had first met. In the time since he had grown into a good friend. You could hardly believe it, there were so few in your life that you could honestly call friend, but he was among them. And now he was gone, and you were unsure of what horrible fate he had been dealt.

What was the point of it all anyway? When everyone you ever cared about was gone. Why should you keep going? Why not just lay down here and let things be? The water was warm and comfortable enough, and you thought then that the sound of the waves on that distant shore sounded soothing, as you laid down to rest for a while.

In a darkened chamber far beneath the world a small stream lapped up to the edge of a rocky incline. The chamber was dark but not without light as there was a faint glow cast from further down a winding passage at one end. The other end, however, was host to an impenetrable shroud of darkness, and far beyond its veil, the faint sound of splashing footsteps could be heard.

The noise grew closer and closer to the boundary between the chamber and the veil until a figure suddenly burst forth from the blackness as if breaching the surface of a great ocean. The figure's horned furry head heaved up and down for several moments in clear exasperation, until they were finally able to wright themselves and turn to regard the shroud of darkness.

Slowly but surely the sound of other splashing footsteps approached until two more forms stumbled across the threshold, the forms of Carric and Elxedor, who, apparently, had been able to rejoin one another after the the party's initial separation.

There was a long pause after their arrival before finally the frantic form of Edoo joined them, with desperate gasps and mumbled words issuing from his shaken form. Then there was silence for many long minutes, and it was apparent that Morrah would not be joining them. There was no trace of the faint splashes that had accompanied the arrival of the others, and in the expansive waters beyond none could recall having encountered the half elf. After many more moments of hesitation, Rory stepped forward and beckoned that the others follow, offering an outstretched hand to the next closest of her companions. Carric took the offered hand and Elxedor continued the chain a few moments later, a resolute expression shared amongst the three of them. A hand was then offered to Edoo, but the skittish kobold recoiled reflexively, clearly not willing to relive the experience.

It was then that Rory regarded him and knelt down on one knee gesturing around the chamber as they did so. They said "Out here alone, or in there together" and with a set expression, they gave their scaley companion a somber yet warm smile.

Edoo still hesitated, but after many more moments of consideration, and liking the prospect of solitude even less than the hideous darkness, finally conceded and took the Firbolg's outstretched hand. They then all straightened lining up abreast of one another to regard the dark veil once more, and with one unanimous step, they walked back across the threshold.

For many moments thereafter there was quiet, with only the distant splashing of footsteps echoing in unison far off in the void, until even that was drowned out by the quiet lapping of water on stone. The chamber was calm once more, and for a long while this secluded place far beneath the world, one that had not seen the presence of others for over a millennia seemed as though it might remain quiet for a millennia more.

The shadows hung ominously about the room like drapes shredded to tatters by some unseen monster with great sweeping claws. Though it was likely just a trick of the light, perhaps a result of the many outstretched stalactites descending from the ceiling. It was likely that, but for some reason, the shadows still seemed a bit off, and a passive observer might suggest more readily that an unforeseen denizen had, in fact, created those tears in the shadows, leaving ribbons of darkness behind where there should be light.

Looking on impassively to the scene in the cavern the shadows were uncertain of their allegiance. Were they to be beholden to light, which gave them clear definition, contrast in fact? For without light, there can be no shadow. Or is it the dark that begets them, presuming that shadow is, in actuality an entity in itself that issues ever forth from dark places? Some pervasive substance that fills in the gaps that light leaves behind.

Never had this conflict seemed more prescient than in this place, in the darkest reaches of a land so mysterious. Where did shadows come from after all? Could it be that they issued forth from such a place as this? A darkened chamber far beneath the world.

Suddenly there was a distant echo of steel on stone and far-off voices could be heard echoing across the expanse. A great conflict appeared to be playing out and the shadows on the walls wavered uncertainly. There were shouts, screams, the sharp ring of weapons, and then nothing. Once again the quiet lapping of water resumed it's steady rhythm, and the shadows on the wall seemed somehow lessened, humbled perhaps. and after several long minutes, four figures emerged from the dark, with a fifth hanging limply between them. They had found their friend and they had rescued her from... something.

It took several more minutes to coax Morrah back to consciousness and it would take many tendays before she would recover completely, but she was alive, and thanks entirely to her valiant friends. She smiled nervously at all of them in turn, clearly shaken by the experience. Maybe her friends meant more to her than she was willing to admit, and maybe there was a point to it all after all, this existence of her's, though what that might be she still could not tell.