After Eschaton

Terin and the Strangeland Part II

The Last Blackblood: Volume IV Gettin Stranger

Argkh! We found ourselves standing before the large Iron doors. An unsettling feelin growin in mi belly. Somethin about this place, it do no seem right. The group seem to dismiss mi protests about followin an elf, a child at that, when underground. This was no the city. We were still too far under ground. The silly elf, “I feel a draft, it musta be this way.” Garh! She’s lead us straight to another one of those lights. Then the child wants to be climbing in the vents, and yet again, the fools are trying to follow a child. I do no know if there is a brain among the lot of them. I stepped through the thresh hold, muttering a pray in mi head to Kelemvor. It was nice. A warm breeze and the smell of wheat fields. I felt like I was being takin back. Back to my days as a wee lad, playing in the fields, but no, no memories came, just an oddly comfortable feelin. Ah, well, to keep it short, Ghorbash followed into the light and so did Brimstone. Everyone else must have as well, as we found ourselves together in the rear cart of the The Tinker’s carvan.

As far as the eye could see there were wheat fields. They stretched out until they met the blue sky on the horizon. It was a beautiful sight. Although there were no hills, the small waves in the earth were warming to mi soul. I relaxed a little, snugglin into the carts cargo. After a wee sip of ale, I went explorin through the load. I found a handy health potion, as well as some other concoctions that’d make a fine nights entertainment, but alas, I could no afford them, so I left them in the chest. I did however find what I believe to be The Dwarven Helm of Worth. The story of this helmet tickles in the back of mi brain. Garh! Why can I no remember anything? But I do know it’s better to be on mi head than in some Tinkers treasure hold. It may be no good idea to steal from a Tinker, but this here Helm, belongs on a Dwarf’s head. Until I find a more worthy Dwarf, I shall be keeping it safe. Perhaps I will even wearing it into legend, if my party do no hold me down.

I went to see what the others were doing at the front of the carvan. The boy from the town was here, learning somethin from the Tinker. He held a burning wheat shaft, I do no know what happened, but I do know that the wheat caused Fire elementals to rise from the fields after it exploded sending fire into the wheat growths.

Aye, I was hot on Ghorbash’s heals to the first elemental, I managed to deflect a blow meant for Ghorbash and he crushed the elemental with his great axe. Twas a sight. He really is a warrior. We made haste to the other Fire elemental on this side of the road. I cut at it with a hand axe then Ghorbash finished it. I saw Be’loth Muril lying in the field on the other side of the road. He was down with Brimstone trying to help him. I charge across as fast as I could, thankfully the bard used a healing spell on him. The other fire elementals were destroyed on this side, so I patch Be’Loth up and we carried on our way.

Ghorbash was no fun to talk to after the fight. So I went to climb in the cart and took a turn for the worst Gah! I fell face first in the dung of the draw horse. I’ll never live it down. Thankfully Kallista, the kind lass, saved me from further embarrassment helping me in the cart.

Then it happened again, the encroaching darkness. We managed to find another metal plate. It seemed to only glow when the people on it burnt wheat shafts. I decided to tie miself to the plate and jump into the darkness to swing onto the underside of the metal plate. Gorbash grabbed me from behind to come with. So I told him to pick me up and jump in and away went. Swingin back and forth, back and forth. Then finally we attuned with those above in burning the wheat and managed to stay on long enough to return to the Iron doors.

Now the door were different. They were more aged, buckled and rusted. Through a gap we could see it was barred. It did no feel right. Same place, but now the doors were strange. Strange? Now that is a funny thing to say. If everything is strange, does that make it normal? Are we what is strange here. Foreigners that do no hold the values and traditions of this place. Are we what is odd?

There were people on the other side of the door, the first we had encountered. They muttered on about Minotuars and Guilds and Unknowins and other ramblings. They claimed us to be mad, but made no fight to prove their own sanity. They talked of enemies and fighting. All this nonsense. I asked for hospitality and they refused. All I know now, is I do no, and will no trust those so eager to throw us away. They have made themselves unfriendly and I hope they do no push that further or I will make vengeance on their actions.

Terin will Return in Terin in The Unknowing Warren



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