A passing chance

[Jupiter]

Chapter 1 viewtopic.php?f=38&t=32588
Chapter 2 viewtopic.php?f=38&t=32638
Chapter 3 viewtopic.php?f=38&t=32833
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Chapter 5 viewtopic.php?f=38&t=33621

Chapter Four
A passing chance


… “Go, now!” the wizard commanded as he dissipated. “Obtain what you seek and return to the living and perhaps we too may leave this dreadful place and never return!”


Jupiter seized the book from the clutches of the expired lich and took flight into the caverns. Thick darkness enveloped Jupiter almost immediately as he pressed through the corridors. The light from his staff shone no further than a few steps ahead of him, and immediately closed around his light as soon as he past. He felt like he was pressing through a living creature, as though he was in an enormous esophagus leading towards the bowels of some force of evil too great for him to comprehend. He stole a few moments respite to glance at the runic book in his hand. He quickly flipped through the heavy pages. As best he could decipher it was a list of cycles, and a rune for each one. Perhaps he truly was in the throat of some beast? He wasn’t certain, and had no time to continue pondering. He had to reach the bridge before two more cycles passed and his best estimate gave him only a few minutes.

He stumbled onto the bridge, and as he did the rune embedded on the first page began to glow a deep red hue. He held the book out and searched desperately for some kind of opening. As he moved left the rune beamed brighter, he walked forward, and it burning brighter still. He took one more step forward and the light around him extinguished in an instant, darkness enveloped the space he just stood as though grasping at him. The darkness had just missed him and no living thing was present to taste just how displeased it was.

- - - - - - - - - - -


A slender man was slowly traveling the dirt path near Vesper. In a cursory glance, one might see frail old man, perhaps an easy target to increase the breadth of one’s money pouch. Many had made that fatal mistake of asking the old man, in less than polite tones, to spare some coins. Giving was something that this traveler, if asked other than at the point of a sword, often did gladly and in generous portions. There could have been no other traveler passing down the road on this particular day more fortuitous for Jupiter’s current plight, but not solely because of his charitable nature. Indeed he was possibly the only wizard that could bring Jupiter back from his dire state.

Zedicus was completing the last legs of his return journey from a distant land where he had been engaged in an epic battle opposing an ancient evil referred to in ancient scripts as “The Keeper.” He was looking forward to a long rest in the great libraries, which undeniably he had earned, when suddenly the earth trembled and brought him to an abrupt stop. An explosion off in the distant graveyard perked his interest and within an instant he had teleported to the source of the commotion. The earth trembled again, and suddenly a smoldering figure burst forth from one of the sepulchers. He could deduce by the magical aura alone that this was the work of one wizard. “You brazen old fool, Jupiter,” he thought to himself “Always choosing the path of most resistance.” The earth continued to tremble in timed intervals, with each pause increasing before the next, and each time a smoldering figure bursting forth. Once the next tremor began, Zedicus quickly shot his arm forward, passing straight into the wall, and reached out a hand. He held it there a moment and as surely as he had guessed he felt something grasp his hand tightly with a desperation he could hear by touch alone. As he pulled his arm back through, Jupiter’s ragged body stumbled out and collapsed on the ground. His hand fell to the ground and a small parchment dropped from his grasp. Zedicus reached for the discolored parchment, when suddenly Jupiter bolted up, grabbing Zedicus’ shoulder and exclaimed “The spire of the damned seeks to rise again!... Ra…venfel!” Quickly he collapsed back to the earth.

Zedicus read the cryptic prophecy and his hopes for rest vanished. He quickly removed a small vile from his robes. It was filled with a liquid that swirled with the most curious colors. He quickly opened it and poured it in Jupiter’s mouth. “I’m sorry old friend,” he said as poured “you’ll certainly feel the effects of this later, but we cannot risk losing the information you recovered thanks to your boorish excursion to our unworldly neighbors.”

Jupiter’s limbs began moving as though controlled by a puppeteer. Zedicus stood, and Jupiter followed. “Speak,” commanded Zedicus. “The prophecy that inspired the invasion of Minax,” Jupiter’s speech was as mechanical as his movement, “now inspires a greater evil. The dead seek Ravenfel… And Ravenfel seeks the dead...”

The resurrection of the blasphemous city of death would not just be a dreadful blow to the kingdom of Britannia; it would spell the final words of the ancient prophecy. Fulfilling the days when Darkness should rule, and all life and light extinguished!

They had no time to lose; THE MAGE TOWER must be restored! Zedicus turned to the woods and whistled a strong, but soft pitch. A magnificent stallion stepped out from behind the trees, as it if had been watching Zedicus during his entire journey - a loyal companion eagerly waiting the slightest opportunity to return some great favor.