Seeing things differently
It was late Marday evening and Anvar Stonehammer was making his way back to Crystal Spires after a successful day’s work.
"Two solid contract," he thought to himself. "Even Gurgin will be pleased with that."
His good mood soured slightly as he saw the queue to get into the central cavern, until he remembered that he hadn’t used up all of his samples today.
"Let’s see now, who’s in charge tonight," he murmured to himself as he scanned the guards. Catching sight of the guards’ squed he grinned as he recognised Harril Rockskull. After catching Harril’s eye it was only a few moment s before the Squed made his way over.
"I’ve seen you passing through a few too many times recently," announced Harril, looking sternly at Anvar. "I’ve got a few questions for you."
Anvar made a few token protestations before being led away by Harril, who kept up his stern look until they were inside the guard post.
"You picked the wrong time to be heading home tonight Anvar," laughed Harril. "We got some smugglers and no-ones getting through anytime soon."
"Except perhaps those who were mistakenly taken aside for questioning?" Suggested Anvar, holding out a bottle.
"Exactly. I always like to see a fellow who can see the truth of things." A few minutes later Anvar was out the other side of the guard and into Crystal spires.
"Seeing the truth. Yes, describes me perfectly," he thought to himself just a before he felt a faint tingle in the back of his head. The sensation didn’t last more than a moment, and with a quick shake of his head Anvar continued walking towards his home. But something started nagging him. It was like he had missed something back at the guard post. Stopping for a minute Anvar thought back and then realised what it was. Harril hadn’t looked quite the same. It was the beard, infact it was all of the guards’ beards. They hadn’t been as neatly trimmed and brushed as usual, and up close there had been something about Harril’s face.
"Just over thinking things.'’ Anvar thought. ‘’Trying to be too insightful for my own good. Of course he looked out of sorts if they’ve been dealing with smugglers." Anvar started walking again, but as he looked around he noticed that the tunnel he was in seemed less cared for than usual. He’d walked through here dozens of times recently, but tonight it was like his vision was unusually sharp, and he could see the cracks in the tunnel walls, the trash against wall between two tunnels, and little breaks in some of the statues. Anvar knew it couldn’t be that much different compared to the last time he’d walked along here, but it was like a fog he hadn’t even been aware had been removed from his vision. After making a mental note to have a closer look at his own house when he got back, Anvar resumed his walk. He hadn’t expected to see many people out, but it seemed a bit more deserted than usual. He was almost relieved when he entered one of the residential parts of the cavern and saw a few people moving about. Ready to give a friendly greeting, the words died on his lips as he noticed that something wasn’t quite right with the passers-by. A dwarf’s skin can be expected to be sensibly pale, unless they spend too much time above ground, but these people had skin that looked grey and waxy even at a distance. Making a sharp turn Anvar moved away from the unusual looking people. Then it hit him. That was what had been wrong with Harril. His skin had that same greyish tinge. Thoughts of horror stories from his youth instantly came to mind. "No it couldn’t be,’’ he tried to reassure himself. ‘’Maybe out in the deep tunnels, but not here in Khezdur." Carefully peering around a corner, Anvar took another look at the people on the other side of the street. The more he looked the more he became convinced that there was indeed something wrong. Their beards were unkept and dusty, the telltale glow of eyes suited to the tunnels was a little too red, and they seemed to shamble more than walk. Growing increasing nervous, Anvar desperately tried to recall anything that could help with what he was seeing. "The temple. Got to get to the temple. Only place to be safe," became a chant in his head as started making his way between buildings. Everywhere he looked he could see signs of decay, with shutters hanging loosely from buildings, and large cracks running down the sides of the buildings. Every time Anvar saw another person, he sought a place to hide so he could observe them, hoping against hope that they would appear normal. But each time he saw the grey skin rather than a healthy pale glow he drew deeper into the shadows and waited for the person to pass. After a nerve wracking couple of hours spent traversing the cavern, Anvar finally came in sight of the temple. However, rather than the beacon of hope he was expecting, he saw only a broken structure with the giant hammers that normally flanked the main doors lying shattered on the ground, and a host of grey-skinned people milling about in the space before the doors. "There was meant to be a festival tonight," went Anvar’s thoughts as he struggled to deal with what he was seeing. "What in the stone happened here? Where to now?" Suddenly Anvar felt a hand on his shoulder, and he span around panicked. Standing before him was his brother, but it wasn’t his brother. This thing had a tangled beard, peeling grey skin, and glowing eyes. When it opened its mouth it emitted a low moan and revealed broken teeth. Desperate to get away Anvar swung his bag and hit the thing in the face before setting off at a run. Hands seemed to clutch at him from all around but he forced his way onward. Reaching a deserted tunnel, Anvar stopped to catch his breath and tried to collect his thoughts. Khezdur had fallen. It seemed impossible but there was no doubting what he was seeing. "Only thing to do is get out. Get a weapon or three and get out." He was about to try making his way to his home when he heard a footstep behind him, and turned just as greyskinned figure slammed a club into his head. As he succumbed to the unconsciousness he saw a group of the shabby looking creatures moving towards him with a hunger in their eyes.
"No Healer." replies a stout man in the robes of an apprentice. "We've kept him sedated since he starts screaming whenever anyone approaches."
"Probably for the best. At least this one didn't do any permanent damage, though his brother will be slow to forgive the broken nose. I take it you haven't found anything in common with the others."
"Only the lack of an obvious cause"
"Very well. Keep an eye on him. I'm going to speak to the guards again. This is getting out of hand."
"Two solid contract," he thought to himself. "Even Gurgin will be pleased with that."
His good mood soured slightly as he saw the queue to get into the central cavern, until he remembered that he hadn’t used up all of his samples today.
"Let’s see now, who’s in charge tonight," he murmured to himself as he scanned the guards. Catching sight of the guards’ squed he grinned as he recognised Harril Rockskull. After catching Harril’s eye it was only a few moment s before the Squed made his way over.
"I’ve seen you passing through a few too many times recently," announced Harril, looking sternly at Anvar. "I’ve got a few questions for you."
Anvar made a few token protestations before being led away by Harril, who kept up his stern look until they were inside the guard post.
"You picked the wrong time to be heading home tonight Anvar," laughed Harril. "We got some smugglers and no-ones getting through anytime soon."
"Except perhaps those who were mistakenly taken aside for questioning?" Suggested Anvar, holding out a bottle.
"Exactly. I always like to see a fellow who can see the truth of things." A few minutes later Anvar was out the other side of the guard and into Crystal spires.
"Seeing the truth. Yes, describes me perfectly," he thought to himself just a before he felt a faint tingle in the back of his head. The sensation didn’t last more than a moment, and with a quick shake of his head Anvar continued walking towards his home. But something started nagging him. It was like he had missed something back at the guard post. Stopping for a minute Anvar thought back and then realised what it was. Harril hadn’t looked quite the same. It was the beard, infact it was all of the guards’ beards. They hadn’t been as neatly trimmed and brushed as usual, and up close there had been something about Harril’s face.
"Just over thinking things.'’ Anvar thought. ‘’Trying to be too insightful for my own good. Of course he looked out of sorts if they’ve been dealing with smugglers." Anvar started walking again, but as he looked around he noticed that the tunnel he was in seemed less cared for than usual. He’d walked through here dozens of times recently, but tonight it was like his vision was unusually sharp, and he could see the cracks in the tunnel walls, the trash against wall between two tunnels, and little breaks in some of the statues. Anvar knew it couldn’t be that much different compared to the last time he’d walked along here, but it was like a fog he hadn’t even been aware had been removed from his vision. After making a mental note to have a closer look at his own house when he got back, Anvar resumed his walk. He hadn’t expected to see many people out, but it seemed a bit more deserted than usual. He was almost relieved when he entered one of the residential parts of the cavern and saw a few people moving about. Ready to give a friendly greeting, the words died on his lips as he noticed that something wasn’t quite right with the passers-by. A dwarf’s skin can be expected to be sensibly pale, unless they spend too much time above ground, but these people had skin that looked grey and waxy even at a distance. Making a sharp turn Anvar moved away from the unusual looking people. Then it hit him. That was what had been wrong with Harril. His skin had that same greyish tinge. Thoughts of horror stories from his youth instantly came to mind. "No it couldn’t be,’’ he tried to reassure himself. ‘’Maybe out in the deep tunnels, but not here in Khezdur." Carefully peering around a corner, Anvar took another look at the people on the other side of the street. The more he looked the more he became convinced that there was indeed something wrong. Their beards were unkept and dusty, the telltale glow of eyes suited to the tunnels was a little too red, and they seemed to shamble more than walk. Growing increasing nervous, Anvar desperately tried to recall anything that could help with what he was seeing. "The temple. Got to get to the temple. Only place to be safe," became a chant in his head as started making his way between buildings. Everywhere he looked he could see signs of decay, with shutters hanging loosely from buildings, and large cracks running down the sides of the buildings. Every time Anvar saw another person, he sought a place to hide so he could observe them, hoping against hope that they would appear normal. But each time he saw the grey skin rather than a healthy pale glow he drew deeper into the shadows and waited for the person to pass. After a nerve wracking couple of hours spent traversing the cavern, Anvar finally came in sight of the temple. However, rather than the beacon of hope he was expecting, he saw only a broken structure with the giant hammers that normally flanked the main doors lying shattered on the ground, and a host of grey-skinned people milling about in the space before the doors. "There was meant to be a festival tonight," went Anvar’s thoughts as he struggled to deal with what he was seeing. "What in the stone happened here? Where to now?" Suddenly Anvar felt a hand on his shoulder, and he span around panicked. Standing before him was his brother, but it wasn’t his brother. This thing had a tangled beard, peeling grey skin, and glowing eyes. When it opened its mouth it emitted a low moan and revealed broken teeth. Desperate to get away Anvar swung his bag and hit the thing in the face before setting off at a run. Hands seemed to clutch at him from all around but he forced his way onward. Reaching a deserted tunnel, Anvar stopped to catch his breath and tried to collect his thoughts. Khezdur had fallen. It seemed impossible but there was no doubting what he was seeing. "Only thing to do is get out. Get a weapon or three and get out." He was about to try making his way to his home when he heard a footstep behind him, and turned just as greyskinned figure slammed a club into his head. As he succumbed to the unconsciousness he saw a group of the shabby looking creatures moving towards him with a hunger in their eyes.
Several Days Later
"Is there still no improvement in young Stonehammer's condition," asks an elderly woman looking down at Anvar who was tied to bed."No Healer." replies a stout man in the robes of an apprentice. "We've kept him sedated since he starts screaming whenever anyone approaches."
"Probably for the best. At least this one didn't do any permanent damage, though his brother will be slow to forgive the broken nose. I take it you haven't found anything in common with the others."
"Only the lack of an obvious cause"
"Very well. Keep an eye on him. I'm going to speak to the guards again. This is getting out of hand."
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