View Full Version : Into the Magic
((SOLO))
Somewhere along the timeline of Althanas, many wizards have come and gone. But none that had such knowledge like Glim. He was a gnome, well known for the invention of many machines. But he was also known for his extensive knowledge of magic. He was a gnome wizard of sorts, and also the greatest mechanic to his kind. Sometime before his death, he created a large building made out of unbreakable glass, which he placed into a swamp. The mysterious building used much of his magic and mechanical skills to build and maintain. Some kind of machine kept it afloat the massive swamp surface, until a few days ago, when it started sinking.
Aramil sat alone, studying his notes over and over, trying to find a way to better his skills. His armor and weapons was left alone in his room that he had gained earlier that day. A flick of his foot sent a mouse flying as it ran over his foot. His mind was glued to his notes on parchment. From here, he could see all the trials and errors that had occurred testing his theories of imbuing weapons and magic. Long and hard he had tried, until on day he finally got it right.
He needed something, stronger then what he had. A power source that would never run dry and only increase in power, making him the strongest of all warriors. A loud bang sent everyone to stare at the door as a few gnomes ran in, crying, and pleading for help. “It’s horrible! Horrible I tell you! Glim’s magic temple, it’s sinking! Right into the swamp!” a few of them blurted out all at the same time, making it hard to understand.
Aramil suddenly snapped out of it, and ran to them. “Where is it? Where’s the temple?” he screamed, shaking one of the gnome’s violently. This was the call he needed, the power source of magic!
“To the north…Oh, it’s so terrible!” another gnome said, trying to stop Aramil’s arms from shaking his friend to death.
Aramil let go, dropping the gnome to the ground, and ran to the stairs. Flying up them as fast as he could, he donned his armor in a matter of minutes, flung his great sword over his back, knocking over a few of the decorations, and stomped down the stairs. His armor so heavy, it creaked with every stepped. On the way out, he managed to grab his parchment pieces, and hurried past the gnomes.
It was rare, but he was running as fast as he could in this hunk of tin. It had only added at least thirty pounds to his original weight. The gnomes stumbled out of his way, some falling, and other losing their balance with the behemoth running by them. “You can’t just walk there..!” one called after him, but he was much to excited to listen to their heeds of warning.
He stopped a few minutes later, to peer over his shoulders at the town. He was heading in the right direction. Aramil was standing at the top of a hill, possibly fifty or so feet above the town. Turning his head back towards the swamp, he could see the faint outline of black liquid, which just had to be the swamp in front of him.
He continued quickly, his face, and body sweating quiet heavily in the suit of armor. But this would no slow him. His armor clanked with every step, but he was used to this, and he could almost find a beat in the sounds. This is what kept him going. Slowly he hummed, and the time flew by until he was finally face to face with where he had to go.
There he was, now facing the swamp in which the ultimate treasure lay dormant. But the problem was just getting to it. The large triangular building was about in the middle of the swamp, slowly slipping beneath the surface of the thick swamp water. Filled with who knows what, over time, the surface began to thicken, which made getting there so much harder.
The swamp water bubbled, somehow. The bubbles would expand on the surface until they became too big and popped. Aramil thought that, somehow, he should be able to make it there, just by walking on it, since the top seemed to support other heavy item scattered about the surface.
And so, Aramil took a step forward, placing his foot on the top of the swamp water. It seemed to stay, until he took another step. Quickly, his foot was swallowed up, covered in muck, and still sinking. He fell over, landing on his back, and quickly pulled his foot out of the water. It was covered in mud, leafs, bark, and other items from under the surface. Finding this wasn’t a good way to go about getting to the temple, he looked around for another way.
A path between trees caught his attention, it seemed to follow around the swamp, but never go into it. This was his best bet. Quickly, he kicked off whatever guck he could, he walked towards the tree line. A rumble through the ground caught him off guard; he looked around quickly, placing a hand over his shoulder to grab the hilt of his sword. Looking out over the swamp again, he could see the temple being swallowed up, It seemed to move down into the swamp, then after a few seconds, it would stop again.
“Dammit, I better hurry then,” he said lightly to himself, running towards the forest again. It was only a matter of hours before the temple would be completely gone, under the swamp forever, without anyone ever to see what wonders it held.
The path was hard to follow, littered with dead leaves, and branches from the trees. The whole forest was dead, something that just recently happened, since leaves were still on the ground, and not yet decaying. It seemed like something out of a nightmare. The bare trees moved with the wind, but seemed like they were going to attack you. The wind whispered throughout the whole forest, almost seeming like it was talking to you. But if it were, it was only telling you to go back, since that’s the only feeling a person would get in a place like this. The horror and tragedy that befell every poor person to wonder into such a place like this. But the horror only got worse the deeper you went. Following the path deeper into the forest gave way to more trees, which in turn, gave less light. Luckily for Aramil, his elven eyes worked just as good in this kind of light, as it would if it were bright day light.
Crackling laughter and flickers of light made it way over the trees, like shadows on walls. Aramil was almost scared for a second when he realized laughter could only be made by people. A smile spread across his face, realizing he could get help here. So he continued forward towards the noise. The lights only got brighter and the laughter only got louder, until he was finally able to see the small village that lay ahead of him.
The small village was made out of wood and mud. It was the obvious resources for what surrounded them. In the middle of the wooden houses was a large fire cooking a variety of beasts. All the laughter had stopped as Aramil walked closer and closer. It was pretty run down, showing that they had very little, and had nothing to do with the outside world. It was simple here, since they had enough for everyone to live comfortably.
The only thing that was now obvious was the flickering light was coming from the fire. But the laughter was now gone. And the forest had never seemed so creepy then it did now. But somehow, he managed to push himself forward, and keep taking step after step towards the center of the village.
By now, he was standing by the fire. Wild pigs and animals were slowly cooking, a feast of large proportions. A few clicking sounds came, and slowly, the people of the village walked slowly towards him. They seemed to be some sort of small humanoid, Aramil though they were gnomes, but wild. All of their hair was matted, covered in dirt, and long. Bathing was something that wasn’t done often, or done at all. Teeth were rotting, some of them didn’t have any teeth at all, and other only had a few. They wore very little, and their skin was a gruesome green color. They spoke with clicking of the tongue, and grunts, and had no other way of communications.
Aramil almost felt sick as they came closer. Their smell was over whelming, and would probably make anything near them faint with disgust. But he held on, to the hope that they knew something that he didn’t about the swamp area. They had him completely surrounded, and were only closing in around him. He was ready; his hand had been placed on the hilt of his great sword again, just like when the temple had sunk more.
An opening appeared in the crowd, and an elder of sorts walked through them. He wore more then the rest, and had a staff with him. On top of it laid a small blue gem which started to glow when he made sounds form his mouth. Though nothing was actually heard from him, inside Aramil’s mind, a voice rang out.
“What is it you need? What have we done to anger others this time?” it called out. Echoing over and over in his head, almost driving him to madness.
“Well, I need to get to the temple. I was hoping you would know something about it.” Aramil said aloud. The small wild gnome only laughed, and the crystal started to glow again.
“Why do you need to get to the Devil’s Bed?” the voice rang out again.
“I need to see it for myself. And to find the treasure within. The magic source, I need to experience it for myself,” Aramil replied. Before any sounds came, the crystal was glowing, this time, a bright red.
The trees around the swamp moved, twisting into one another, and formed a hole in which lead to the swamp. A small, rickety bridge led from two wood poles in the ground, to the tip of the temple. It bended now though, since the temple was sinking.
“That’s the only way?” Aramil asked, but was being pushed aggressively towards the bridge. The wild gnomes tossed him into the bridge, and it creaked with his weight. It bent and twisted wildly, and finally slowed as he regained his balance. By the time he turned around, the trees had gone back to the way they were before.
Slowly stepping forward, a few planks were missing, and a missed step sent the bridge into another wild shake. Pulling himself along, Aramil had to watch everything he did on the bridge. Watching every step, and slowly made his way, step by step to the tip of the temple.
It was a start drop ten feet or so, but there was something soft down there for him to land on. With a sigh, he jumped down, bounced on the soft thing a few times, and stopped. He was now just in front of the alter.
It was obvious this place was used for more then just a church. The alter was about ten feet long, raised about five feet off the ground, and was flat. The whole flat side of the alter was covered in dark stains, which Aramil thought was blood. It dripped down the sides of it, and some parts had left trails along the floor.
“What is this?” Aramil thought to himself. “This isn’t a church! This is a place of sacrifice! What really did go on in here?” he thought looking around at the large area.
The place where the alter was, was also raised. It was about ten feet from the other area, with stairs leading down. The other area had long stone benches on either side of the room, leaving a ten-foot gab in the middle, which the sacrifices must have been led down. Aramil walked slowly down the aisle, making his way to other side, were a faint light had made its way under the wooden doors.
Pushing with all his might, Aramil heard something metal hit the ground, and then the door slowly creaked open. It took all of his might to get the door moving, but after that, it almost opened by itself. Upon the floor was what seemed like a lock, was that the metal object hitting the floor?
The hall way here only went one way. The whole corridor itself was lit with torches, which never seemed to go out, which is why there was light from under the door. So, he followed it. On the walls, were more gruesome sites then that of the alter. Bloodstains were splattered across the wall, in no sort of pattern, and claws marks, dug into stone. It looked like some sort of fight had happened here, but what was it between. Did beast also in habit this place, or was it just gnomes, like Glim himself?
From somewhere, a quiet, shuffling sound was heard. It was really quiet in the halls, so even the slightest noise echoed. Aramil stopped, and grabbed his great sword. Flinging it off his back, and in front of him, he wondered closer to the end of the corridor. The torches here though, were out.
The door was locked just as the other one, but this one had many more locks. With a great heave, Aramil lifted his sword, and straight down at the door. With luck, he shattered every one of the rusted locks. The door was built, on some kind of angle, since once the locks were off they slowly opened towards him.
More shuffling sounds came, and then stepped out. The room was pitch black, and their eyes let them see. They were all bright red in color. Plenty of eyes stared at him; at least twelve things were there, just staring at him. A few moved forward, and finally Aramil could see what were there with him.
It was those wild gnomes from before. They had all the same appearance. The wild and grossly crusted hair, that gangly green skin, and the little bits of clothe clothing. But this time, instead of their regular colored eyes, they were a blood red color. As they stepped even closer to him, his eyes picked up even more the details they carried. They all had these beasts like teeth. Sharpened and enlarged, hanging out of their mouths, and wild claws, also sharpened and enlarged. They all seemed like rabid animals, but they were gnomes.
Though they didn’t seem very hostile, Aramil was still unsure of what they were able to do, and what they would do to him. He moved forward, in a single step, and they didn’t do anything. He moved forward again, and they didn’t do anything. Starting to walk step after step, and wondered into their room. It was dark, but he could at least some things from the little light left from the hallway.
The room was covered with blood. It still even had the stench of it. The same claw marks were all over the walls and floor. And cages lined every side of the room but one, which had a door on it. Cages were piled one on top of another, and the door has been pulled off, and the bars broken, to let the wild gnomes free. Others still had dead gnomes in it, ones that couldn’t get out on their own. Their own dead had just lain there to rot, while others wondered this room, for who knows how long.
Aramil wondered over to the other door in the room, and tried to open it. But it didn’t. There were no locks. Nothing holding this door shut. Aramil sighed, Glim must have locked it before his death, but used magic to due so. He turned around, to attempt in asking the small gnomes, but they were gone, every last one of them.
It was odd to have just over a dozen people just disappear on you, but luckily there was only one way they could go. Straight back towards the sacrificial chamber. The door in front of him was the way forward, but he couldn’t get in. It was locked magically somehow, and there was no way he would have enough power to even start to dispel it.
So, with his great sword in front of him, he headed back down the corridor. With great horror, every one of the torches was now out, leaving it pitch black. Even with his elven vision to help him, he couldn’t see in this low of light. So he continued with caution. Every step made an echoing sound of metal on stone, which made it obvious he was there.
There was a moment of silence, followed by minutes of screaming. Red eyes slowly filled the hallway, some where by the door of where the sacrificial chamber would be. They all were staring right at him, or so it seemed. With a horrifying high-pitched squeal, they all ran towards him.
He didn’t know what was going on, stunned and shocked; he stood frozen to the spot. They all ran at him, stopped, and slowly started to circle him. They were all speaking in an odd whispered language, one he didn’t understand. Suddenly a few of the gnomes jumped at him. Now in danger, he managed to swing his sword, cutting on short, but the other managed to land on his back.
It scratched, bit and spit all over him. The sound of nails on a blackboard echoed throughout the hallways, as well as their squeals and cries. Slowly, one after another piled on top of Aramil, and he fell to his knees. The small gnomes were going wild on him, plunging their vicious nails into his arms and legs were ever there was a thinning in his armor.
Managing to fight his way to stand up again, he needed to quickly get these things off of him. Crashing against all the halls, bones snapping, and more of their cries filled the hall. The few that were still alive and able to fight did, Aramil had pointed his hands towards the few that were left, and went haywire on his magic abilities.
Flashes of blue and red filled the hallways until all his magic abilities were drained. The gnomes twitched, and then died, doing so quietly and quickly. Tired, Aramil made sure he was still able to move, and headed back into the room with the door.
Falling into the door, and opened. Locked by the will of the gnomes. Since all of them were dead now, no will power was left here, and so the door could no longer be locked. He dragged himself inside, and placed seated himself against the door. Looking around inside the room he realized what those gnomes really were.
Inside the room was littered with table of all sizes, but smaller ones surrounded the bigger ones. The big ones were covered with blood, while the smaller ones held utensils used for experiments. Those experiments were on the gnomes that he had just seen.
This room was pretty empty except for the room labeled Glim. So, this was were Aramil headed to next. He was still tired from the massive amount of magic he had used so quickly, so he used his great sword as a walking stick to get to the door.
Finally, slowly dragging himself forward, Aramil made it to the door. It was a simple single wooden door. It was easily worn out from massive amounts of usage, but still it hung, by itself, on a single hinge. It seemed to be easily moved, since it creaked when Aramil neared.
Aramil pushed the door open, it creaked and bent some more, but it at least let him past. Walking into the room it was dark, with no source of lights except for extinguished torches. Using a small fire ball, and draining more of his power, Aramil managed to get one lit, and walked around slowly, lighting all the others.
Finally, once he had lit them all, the room was bright enough to see. The walls were covered in pictures of experiments, or at least what he was planning on doing with them, while the center of the room was where a desk sat. Parchments, quills and ink, and other utensils needed to take notes were scattered across the floor and desk. One thing that was most obvious was the large diary that sat opened on the desk.
Sitting in the chair the whole floor creaked, and moved. The building was obviously sinking some more. He needed time, and a lot of it. Glim had given him nothing, not a thing. Something had to be here. Aramil ripped open desk drawers, and ripped apart the room. All the posters came down, until one of them appeared to be stuck. It wouldn’t move, stuck in place, but it appeared to be a regular painting.
“Dammit, why me!?” Aramil yelled, only to be answered by echoes in the empty place. Heading back to the desk, he put his head down. He was about to die, since there was no way out. This whole area was just a trap. Lifting his head, he punched the desk.
The diary that was left out flipped a few pages, since the weight was uneven. Aramil just closed the book. The front cover was titled “Glim Treasure” which quickly caught his attention. Quickly he opened the book, but looked out the glass windows to see how much time he had left. There was only about fifteen feet left until the whole building was sucked under. Opening the book, he started reading the journals entries, most of them were crunched close together making it hard to read.
Aramil would often look up from the book, just to check outside, but then be drawn back into the book. Something in here had to give him a hint to where Glim kept everything hidden. He needed the information, he needed a hint, and he needed something to get his greedy little hands on the treasure.
He read quickly, paying attention to every last word that came up. Until the chapter of the gnomes came up, where his reading pace slowed down, he really got into the entries.
”It started off a month ago, when a few of them decided to check out this place. They really thought I had something to do with this temple. I merely took it for myself….There back again, this time, they won’t be leaving..”
The first journal entry ended. Aramil didn’t care about death now. He was about to find out the answer to a great mystery. His nose was pretty much touching the pages now as he read. He seemed so drawn in, that he could almost picture himself there, as the journal entries went on.
It was like one of those near death experiences that most say they’ve had. Where they can look down upon their bodies, and watch their loved ones cry for them. Except for him, it was the fact that he could watch everything that was mentioned happen…
He wondered the glass corridors, his robes touching the ground, bouncing along behind him. It was sometime since the last encounter, and no others had been found. They were lucky to have gotten out of his home before anything happened to them. But he walked those lonely halls looking for some to be his pets.
He still remembered, the first time they saw him and ran. A few of the wild children had suddenly ‘dropped’ in on him. They annoyed him so much, and so, for that they were going to pay dearly. They had seen some of the works of art he did on other creatures, and ran when he stepped back out of his office. He chased after them, but they were long gone before he was able to catch back up with them.
Glim wanted a piece of them, to try his experiments on humanoid creatures. So the small children that wondered into his home would be ever so perfect for his needs. Reaching the sacrificial chambers, he opened the doors and looked around, no one was around. Turning back around, he headed towards his office again.
Sitting along, and reading over some of his notes, Glim heard some crashing sounds from outside his door. “Finally!” he thought wildly in his head. They were here, something was at least. He quietly walked to his door, and stood there, waiting for the perfect time.
“Where do you think he is?” a male voice asked someone.
“Well, I don’t know!” a cocky female voice replied to him. “But he’s here somewhere. Let’s just do this and get out...” her voice went from cocky to scared.
“Fine then,” a second male voice called out. More crashing sounds came, and Glim smiled wildly. Slowly, he opened his door, and when the timing was right ran out, screaming and shaking his hands.
The kids screamed and ran out of the room, through the door, and ended up locked in a cage in the previous room. All were crying, and shaking, scared of what was to become of them. Glim smiled, and walked over to the cage. “Now, don’t you worry. Your lives will end for a good cause,” laughing until his stomach hurt, Glim walked away from the few children he caught.
The next few days, he kept them in the same cage, all together. Then he started to separate them, taking one male into the other room. Strapping the male to the table, Glim wheeled his other table towards him.
“Now, what shall we do to you?” he said, reaching down and grabbing a metal object off one of the tables. Holding it in front of the young gnomes face, his eyes went wide, and his skin went pale.
His horrifying scream filled the hallways as Glim went to work. His blood sprayed as new cuts were cut into his skin, new objects were put into his body to keep wounds open, body parts were removed and modified to see if anything would change. Glim smiled at his creation. He sewed up all the wounds he had made, and left the body to heal.
A few days later, Glim came back to the body, and poked it a few times. Nothing happened. Taking the straps off of his victim, he made it sit up, and it fell over as soon as no support was on it. An attempt failed.
Glim stormed back into his room, and tore out the pages of his experiments. Looking over them, he made new sketches in his book, added some more logic, and went to grab another victim.
After a few weeks of cat and mouse, and failed attempts, Glim had finally gotten some result. He had given life to some sort of mutated gnome. It had enlarged teeth and nails, his eyes changed to blood red which allowed vision in the dark. They were hostile to Glim but no each other. And not one of them would attack another person of their same kind, no matter how provoked they may be.
That was the last entry in the diary.
Aramil closed the book, and stood up. “So Glim only used his kind for experiments on them. He was nothing more then a vicious murderer.” Looking around at the room, he had forgotten completely that if Glim had just died, that there would be no where for him to go in this place. Aramil started looking around, but the only thing he found out of place was the picture from before.
Looking at the picture he noticed that it seemed to be a portrait of races. Everyone of them was scratched out except for the face of gnomes. Aramil put his finger on one of them and ran his finger over it face. Suddenly the sound of metal grinding filled the room.
Aramil jumped back to the center of the room, and looked around. Suddenly the picture of the many races opened up, and the smell of decay filled the room. Plugging his nose, he wondered over to the picture and looked inside. The last remain of a person, and a small satchel, were the only things inside this small safe.
Pulling the bones out, he thought that these bones could only belong to the one and only Glim. Aramil let the bones drop to the floor, and kicked them away once they were there, letting them scatter across the floor.
Inside, the bag was blue velvet, and lined with gold stitching. It was a small bag used to hold gold, but this one held something more then that. Inside were three small necklaces. Each one holding a small charm on it. Pulling them out, Aramil noticed another thing. It was a piece of parchment. It was folded so that it would fit in with the other pieces of jewelry.
Using one of his hands to unfold the paper, he held it up, and started reading the paper:
“If you’re here, I’m sure you’ve seen my ‘supposed’ diary. Please, don’t remember it. Nothing of this is true. The few gnomes that were experimented on were my very own family. There was another person doing those cruel things to them. Inside this pouch is three very important pieces of my life. Each one holds a part of my power, but it cannot be used unless the fourth is found. The man here before me has it. If you’re good at soul, you’ll seek him out and do what is right.”
Aramil looked at the three necklaces hanging from his opposite hand, and sighed. More work just to find this power. But this is what his quest had led him to; he wouldn’t just end it now. Sliding the necklaces over his head, he tucked the paper in his pocket, grabbed his sword, and ran back to the chamber.
There was little stopping him, except for the bodies, which he stopped at, and said a prayer. His final words to them were, “I will avenge each one of your lives.” Aramil continued on his way and to the chamber.
The only way out was up, except for it was ten feet, so he couldn’t reach it. Stepping onto the goo, which he had landed on, he started jumping, hoping the bounce would help him. “Dammit, UP!” Aramil yelled, and the goo started to lift.
With a smile, Aramil headed towards the light. As he reached the way out, he quickly lifted his body over the edge, and looked around. He was standing no more then a few inches above the muddy water now.
A last rumble filled the ground, and made everything shake. Aramil was now trapped on the edge of the building, as it started to sink. The water rose fast, covering his boots in mud and he needed a way out.
The sinking of the temple and the hole in the top sucked in most of the water, the water dragged across land destroying the edge of the swamp, and the trees fell into the water. It was all happening so fast, but it was the chain reaction that would save his life, since the rickety bridge was already under the swamp water and no one was around.
One tree drifted towards the temple, and Aramil took the first lunge to save his life. He landed on the trunk, and regained his balance. Trying to walk quickly towards the next tree was hard on something in water. Somehow he made to think of how hard a logger must find this, since they did this on a regular basis. Something, more like practise, must have been what made them stay on the logs and not fall off.
The next tree was a few feet away, and slowly heading his way. He readied his feet, and jumped at the perfect time. He landed on the trunk, and already had his balance. This time running towards the end of this tree, and jumped to the next one.
This time it was much worse then the last time. He had jumped right into the dead branches at the top of the tree. Using his free hand, he started tearing and snapping the branches and headed towards trunk again. As he stepped on, the village of wild gnomes had made their way to see all the commotion. A few of them pointed at him, but did nothing to help him as he was too far off. He kept heading towards them, as a goal.
Finally, with one last push, he jumped off the edge of the final tree. But his one foot slipped and he was only just able to reach the ledge of the swamp. It was about five feet tall, but it was pure mud. Trying to scramble up it, his armor only dragged him back down.
He could feel his legs getting wet as he slipped farther and farther, until soon he only get his hands in the air. Feeling something wrap around him, he could soon see again. Those stupid wild gnomes, were now saving his life. Rope had been tangled around his hands, and the wild gnomes were in a line pulling him up.
Before long, his body was out, and sitting on somewhat dry land. With a sigh, he opened his hands, and saw that he still had the three necklaces. With a light chuckle, Aramil stood up, and looked at all the little gnome people. "Thank you....Oh thank you!" he called out, happy just to be alive.
"What did you find?" one of them said, but he noticed the blue glow as the elder came back. "In the Devil's Bed, what did you find?" the ringing came back.
"Well, a false journal, and this note, as well as these necklaces," Aramil replied, holding them all out, except the false journal. "Read the letter, you'll understand, but the necklaces are a reward for me," he continued putting them into his pocket.
The elder took his time reading the letter, then looked to his people. He started talking in their own language, and turned back to Aramil. "Then the man who came out of their was not Glim, but another man," pointing to where the temple used to be. "He left, the way you came. This was a long time ago though, almost thirty years, I do not know what is left of him. The necklaces are yours as we have no use. But now, we must go back, and rejoice for the true finding of what happened that day!"
Somewhere along there the people had moved on, and so did the elder. Now the only thing left to do, was find out some information on where this man went too, whoever he may be.
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