Nachtfuchstiefen I - Day Three

I awoke to the bone-shattering screech of a goose. It continued like a mad man on a rampage. I crawled out from under a stack of blankets (the nights had been uncomfortably cold despite the season), pulled on my breeches, shirt and shoes and hobble to the tent's entrance to stick my head out to see what was going on.

It wasn't a goose at all, it was the not-Knight being true to his name of Goose Knight. Apparently unable to talk, all he could do was cackle like a goose, loudly and unceasing. My head hurt from last night's mead and this was not helping.

I never found out what happened. Word was that he'd contracted some sort of curse doing who knows what— hunting geese, he said. It set the tone for the day— magic and miracles. I was skeptical, too, trust me.

Enter, the queen, I mean, the Priestess, wrapped in her divine, pristinely, white robes, same as the evening I met her in the tavern. A warm aura surrounded her like the comforting touch of an old friend. She offered to help the goose Knight, said she could restore his voice. The power of the All-Seeing Star heals all.

It was a bold claim to make, one I was sure she wouldn't be able to uphold. I don't know what she did. It didn't look like much to me when I snuck a peak into the order's tent. She laid her palms on his chest, closed her eyes and murmured words I didn't understand. Nothing happened at first and the not-Knight seemed unaffected. But then— normal words came out of his mouth. He was cured, talking like a human, and, wondrously described a feeling of warmth filling his chest. Like a light shining inside him. Much the same I'd felt the previous day, when the order guard healed my cut.

Back to important matters— the dungeon awaited us, stoic and mysterious as ever, many puzzle yet unsolved. I was starting to question whether the reward was worth the cost. I'd already gotten my five gold coins, how much would the mage be paying for our troubles? My curiosity though wanted to know what was behind it all. The treasure must be enormous. I just had to make sure I would get to it first.

More pattern had started to emerge. The dungeon's door opened every hour. All of them involved a puzzle or too. If you solved it, you received a stone.

Sixt and me braved the dungeon again around midday. I was eager to finally earn a stone to trade with the Mage. We'd borrowed a big Zweihänder to take on the little thing dangling from a net in the side chamber of one of the rooms. My arms were tired and started shaking when finally, I caught the little loop around the blade and manoeuvred it safely into our hands. It was an amulet. Cold to the touch. We were running out of time. We leapt it out the door just as it shut behind us. That was close.

We had no idea what to do with it.

Around midday, we heard screams coming from the dungeon. The northern woman stumbled out with an arrow bolt lodged deep in her back. She was bleeding. Lots. A wonder she had made it out at all. They ushered her into the Order's tent. I could hear her denying the Priestess' aid. She didn't trust her. "Anyone but her!", she wailed. "The order is a sham!"

I don't know what changed her mind in the end, lack of options, maybe and the prospect of certain death, or at leas debilitation. The Priestess laid her hands on her back and said some words I couldn't make out. I watched the whole time. Mesmerised. There was no grand magic blast or glowing light but where the bolt was removed, her wound was now closed with no trace of it. This was not a sham but a miracle! And the second on this day.

Later that day, I was at the fore of a dungeon group when I heard the rattle of chains and guttural growls rapidly growing louder. I drew my sword. It lunged forward. I was ready. The chain snapped just before it's enormous claws reached me.

That's what I'd like to to have written. The truth is that I was scared. I was scared to die without the light. To meet judgement so soon. All I had was a knife and I hid behind the others as they tried to get past or appease the beast.

It was the bard that finally did it. Or so I hear. Striding bravely into the dungeon, armed with just his lute and song, singing the beast into a slumber and earning one of the prized stones. Sounds a bit much like bardic tale, doesn't it? I never worked out what deals the bard might have made. Wether the mage, too had promised him gold or something more. Or if the adventurer's guild had a stake in affairs, too as he joined it later on.

The whole day, I couldn't stop thinking about the goblet and the knife and that damn card of judgement. It's like they were calling for me.

"It seems like we can't proceed without someone willing to sacrifice themselves." The city guard approached me.

"I know," I said, looking to the dungeon with guilt in my heart. We were stuck and not making progress. We all knew what needed to happen but no one wanted to do it. No one wants to die. I didn't want to die. I tried to get someone else to do it but convincing any but the most dimwitted fools to drain all of their life blood is a hard sell. And I don't need more enemies.

"The All-Seeing Star tells me that no one will truly die. Have you considered my offer to join the Order, yet?"

News travel fast in this make-shift village. Not long after I talked to the city guard, I was pulled aside by the mage.

"You're not really considering to join the order, are you?" She asked once we were along inside of her tent. My eyes strayed to the multitude of gem stones and cards strewn across the table, considering whether it was wise to tell her the truth.

"I guess I have," I answered reluctantly, unhappy to admit to these consideration just yet. And to her.

"Remember the deal we made. You get the stones for me and you get the money and if you betray me..." She didn't have to finish the sentence for me to know that there were things she could probably do that I was not even be able to imagine. Where I come from, magic is restricted to only those who were lucky to have been blessed by the Saint. I guess she worried that if I joined the order I'd no longer care about the money.

"Don't worry, you'll get your stones," I lied. The truth was that I didn't trust her. And this only confirmed my suspicions. Why did she want the stones so badly? What use were they to her?

Maybe it was a temporary streak of defiance or the mage's disapproval of the Order that made me say yes the next time the city guard asked me again.

A few other adventurers had come to me to encourage me to sacrifice myself in the meantime. Of course everyone was eager to find a fool to do it, lest it be themselves. And who would miss a scoundrel like me?

In the end, I decided to do it. I believed this to be my purpose. This is what I'd been brought back for, the price I had to pay for this second chance given to me. Before my noble sacrifice, however, I wanted to be fully initiated into the Order of the All-Seeing Star. Whatever may happen, I wanted it known that I was working towards leading a more honest life. Should I meet the Groundskeeper, I hoped that he'd take mercy on such a soul.

There was another initiate to the order— the scribe. We stood in front of the Priestess, two pious students eager to receive the All-Seeing Eye's blessing. I don't remember the words— something about this momentous moment, spreading the light and sharing it with others so that no one may be left in need. My eyes were fixated her. It felt like staring into the sun, except it didn't hurt and I felt no desire to avert or shield my eyes. I felt warmth, like a hug encompassing me. Her lips moved but her voice was far away.

"I, Ludvik, accept the All-Seeing Star into my heart," I heard myself say. My eyes were closed and her hand was over my heart. A burst of warmth spread through my limbs, into my fingertips and toes. I felt light-headed but I remember I was smiling. For the first time in a month I did not feel cold but alive. For a moment, I even thought I felt my heart beat against my ribcage in excitement.

I was re-invigorated and ready to face the goblet and fulfil my task. I was absolutely certain then that I would not die for good. I had done the first step in changing my life and gained the All-Seeing Star's blessing.

"Vik, there's something you should see," Sixt found me shortly after the initiation. He had not been there to watch, I knew he disapproved of my decision and had tried talking me out of it. Much like he tried to talk me out of my noble sacrifice.

"What is this?" I looked at the paper he was holding in his hands. He nodded towards our tent. I read the letter.

"The mage is a fraud?" I laughed. This was unbelievable. What Sixt had given me was a letter from the head of the mage's guild addressed to the mage. All this talk, trying to puff herself up and it was nothing but hot air.

"We can use this," I urged Sixt without questioning how he'd gotten his hands on the letter. Sixt wasn't a thief. So I believed it to be true. "She needs the stones or she gets kicked out. We can bargain for a better deal."

"We should confront her about it. See what she has to say to it." Sixt agreed— one of the few times. Though I could tell he was less keen on using this to his adventures than he was to learn the truth.

This was one last thing I needed to do before I could spill my lifeblood in some cup to get a stone to save the mage's hide.

"Double the gold and Sixt gets to learn magic from someone capable, I'm sure you have connections." I slammed the letter on the table between me and the mage. She gave me a rattled look before her eyes turned soft, almost demure.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because without the stones, you're screwed."

"Am I?" She asked ominously. A shudder ran down my back and no more words would come to me.

"I'll arrange for Sixt to join the Mages' Guild and... a little something." She pushed two talismans across the table. "If you throw them in front of you, they'll shield you temporarily."

I wasn't happy with the deal but it was something.

The next time we entered the dungeon, it was eerily quiet. Even as a most of the adventurers all at once poured into the dungeon. There we no traps, no monster. Just the room with the cups, waiting for me.

I peered down into the goblet and swallowed. The knife's blade was cool against my skin. All eyes must have been on me. I didn't look at anyone. The scribe caught my wrist just before I could cut into it. "Just making sure you'll finish it." I didn't like the satisfied smile on his lips.

My wrist stung as I dragged the blade over it. It bloomed into a throbbing ache. There it was, red and viscous, filling the cup at a steady rate. Being already dead, I wasn't sure my body still held blood. I didn't try question it.

Staring down into the cup, I felt like a stranger looking onto my own body, together with all the other bystanders. I felt my vision grew spotty. I remember stumbling and someone forcing me to remain upright where I was, arm twisted at an awkward angle now, the cups edge pressing into me. "I'm okay," I mumbled. I felt the heavy weight of a stone fall into my palm and then everything went black.

I woke up in a room tinged in dark green light. In front of me sat a man on a chair. The other adventurers were here with me. "Am I dead?" I searched for Sixt and found him among the group.

"I am the Groundskeeper. This place belongs to me," the sitting man spoke. "You're a curious young man, you'll have to stay and tell me everything about why you would do such a thing."

He went on to explain that he was the architect of the riddles, bound to the dungeon to collect and store the ghosts of those that died here. The scribe had spoken true, turns out. And all the kegs had already been filled to the brim— no more rooms for new souls. How lucky we were. He was just bored.

To the rest of the group, he demanded then to hear arguments. Why should they be allowed to leave, pray tell?

And just so, the logical reasoning was that if we all stayed, there'd be no one left to entertain him. He nodded sagely, before his gaze fell back on me. A shudder went down my spine. "And what about you? Why should I spare you?"

"Because his soul already belongs to me." Sixt stepped forward before I could open my mouth. I looked at him, torn between curiosity and the uncomfortable realisation his words brought with them. There was a thought I had not even considered before.

"How interesting." The Groundskeeper fell silent, looking me over. It felt like his eyes were seeing through me, peering into some hidden world.

"It's true," he said with surprise. "His soul already belongs to you. That means I cannot keep you here. But know this, whenever Sixt dies, I will be there to claim it."

I suppressed a grin. I felt like I'd cheated death once more and in this moment I was was too smug to ponder the implications of Sixt's hold on my soul. He was was a good bluff, that was all.

Remember the letter? I'd told myself I wouldn't tattle to the Priestess about it— or anyone. We'd made a deal after all but there was something foul afoot. Later that evening I found the scribe searching for some woman he'd been courting. He was angry, babbling something about the mage being behind her disappearance. I didn't know what to make of it. So I sought out the Priestess and told her everything about the stones, the letter and our deals. We laughed. The mage was a desperate creature.

We'd gotten the last stone we needed from my sacrifice and it had been given to the mage who, no doubt, had made more than just one deal in her desperate plea to remain a member of the Mage's Guild. I was worried she could use them to gain power for herself and so I had planned on keeping the gem from her but someone must have taken it as I passed out.

With the last gem in her hand, the mage finally enlightened us that they were the key to a hidden door within the dungeon, right in that first room with the starry sky that confounded us all for so long. If she siphoned any power from the stones, I could not tell. Whatever she did, something opened up.

There was nothing at first, just a gaping mouth of darkness. The moment stretched as anticipation built. Then the sound of heavy feet dragging over gravel. Weapons were drawn and the monster lunged forth.

The narrow tunnels made it impossible to fight. We were stumbling over each and there was no room to draw back and swing. In this chaos, the monster kept gaining ground until we were outside. We could not let it escape, lest the damage it might wreak on the surrounding villages.

Many swords stabbed forth, all trying to land a hit on the creature. Many grunts and shouts. A battle ensued. Sight was poor under the mantle of night. I had only a knife but made use of any openings I managed to spot. The creature roared and stomped and lashed out, swiping with its oversized claws which I just narrowly ducked as I whirled around to strike its leg before retreating. That was close.

It took all of us to defeat the creature and it hit the ground to a chorus of relieved sighs and victorious cheers. The Groundskeeper applauded us in our triumph. This had been his final challenge and he was pleased with the entertainment we'd provided for him.

"We have to do this again some time soon! But first, I'll need to make some changes. This will take a while so I'll see you in a few moons."

And with that, he was gone and the dungeon shut.

Celebrations ensued in the tavern after. Song and copious amounts of ale until every keg ran dry. I'd made a few gold and generously swiped a few more from within the dungeon so I was happy. What was next? Where would we go?

I was well underway to a state of drunken stupor when I learned from the bar maid that she was the mage's apprentice and that she'd paid the scribe to join the Order to spy on her behalf.